The Clans of Khazad-Dum [Free RP]

[Oro]

The Clans of Khazad-Dum

“And the line of Dain prospered, and the wealth and renown of the kingship was renewed, until there arose again for the last time an heir of that House that bore the name of Durin, and he returned to Moria; and there was light again in deep places, and the ringing of hammers and the harping of harps”
-HoME, Vol 12, Chapter 10 “Of Dwarves and Men”

The Dwarves that returned to Moria and retook the halls with the last heir of Durin created 7 clans, one for each of the Dwarven Clans of old. These clans run the day to day business of the kingdom. This is a Free RP thread where anyone can join any of the clans. Feel free to create NPC clan leaders or go to the Halls of Durin OOC thread and discuss how you want to run each clan. For now I leave it up to each individual how they want to RP within each clan. Below is a list of the clans and a basic description. There will be no location descriptions because each clan can feel free to create their own local within Khazad-Dum.

• Yukogs (smiths, stone masons, carpenters, tinkerers)
• Burx Uzbans (pub openers, brewers, tobaccoists, bards)
• Mojaks (rune/glyph carvers, shapechangers, herbalists, alchemists, shamans)
• Morogs (stone miners, gemdowsers, geologists)
• Mex Uzbans (restaurant openers, food-makers, farm-tenders, hunters, shepherds)
• Ankixogs (earth-guides, wanderers, singers, speakers, poets)
• Kagam Khazads (loremasters, sages, interpreters, advisors)

Rules
Only rules are: this is an RP Thread so please stick to IC posts and follow the Plaza Rules

[Oro]

Morog Clan Halls

Down, down, down through tunnels and over bridges at the bottom of a network of caves and caverns deep under the Misty Mountains there was an large stone door. Over this arched doorway, carved into the wall and inlaid in shimmering silver was the word “Morogs”. The door was nondescript, no markings upon it, just a pair of heavy stone door handles. Standing before these doors was a muscular, broad dwarf with jet black hair. He stood there, one hand on a door handle, the other combing through his thick beard. He shook his head, it had been a long time since these mines were open for business. Shaking his head, his blue eyes glinting in the torchlight, Oro finally picked up the courage to swing the door inwards. He walked into the old dust covered mines, they had been abandoned after a goblin invasion that had been repelled years ago. It was time for the Morog clan to reopen. Walking steadily through a large clan hall and into a side hall, Oro found his old cozy office. Maps were strewn across a small stone desk with a jar of ink and a quill lying beside it. Oro sat down at the Cave Master desk and took in the familiar feeling of being in his office. He wondered if he should instead go into the Big Mattock or Little Mattock’s desks and start cleaning there. Once he started hiring people this place would need a leader and second in command. For now the site foreman, known as Cave Master, was the last title he had owned and he was happy with running the digs instead of working on the politics of the mines.

[Winddancer]

Mojaks Clan

"Lie still or I will make you lie still!" Sigga added the evil glare for good measure, pausing for a moment to ensure Draeg's compliance. "I don't want to accidently cut your leg off", she growled menecingly, trying not to laugh when she saw the young dwarf's face pale significantly. Smirking she shook her head and mumbled a slight insult under her breath. When Draeg finally lay still again, she refocused her attention to his leg. There was a huge splint lodged in his leg, though she had to cut some of the skin to get access to the end so she could pull it out. "Almost there, keep still now.." Biting down on her lower lip with concentration, Sigga carefully sliced away at the skin, ignoring Draeg's hisses of pain. It would not serve him or her any good if she worried about causing him some slight discomfort given how necessary it was to remove the splinter to avoid infection.

"There, I see it now!" Pleased with her efforts, she carefully dabbed away the small amount of blood and then grabbed the instrument that looked like pliers. "These should do the trick.." she gave Draeg a wink, smirking again when he paled even more. "Easy does it.." carefully she gripped the end of the splinter and slowly started to pull. Her brows furrowed when the splinter did not easily pop out, growling slightly as she pulled a bit harder. Wiggling it, the huge splinter suddenly slid out and with a huge grin she held it aloft for Draeg to see "Damn boy, that's almost as big as a sapling!" With a weak sigh, Draeg closed his eyes and sank back on the bed, trying to block out Sigga's chuckle, just relieved it was finally over.

"Not done quite yet, brace yourself this might sting.." and without further warning, Sigga poured some of the most potent beer she had directly on the wound. Expecting Draeg to jump, she reached out a hand and pushed him back down, "Lie still I said! Not done.." Dabbing a bit more beer around the wound to ensure it was clean, she then set to mixing a paste out of honey and turmeric. Sigga then lathered on a healthy amount right onto the wound before tying a clean bandage around it, ignoring Draeg's squirms and hisses. "There! All done, now scoot, I've got more important work to do, come see me tomorrow for a new bandage." Giving him the eye to make sure he didn't forget to come back, she turned and grabbed the flagon of beer and headed to the side room while swigging some of the beer directly from the flagon.

[Oak]

Morog Clan Halls

The little fluff of tiny delicate looking Oak leaves had finally bribed her way into the halls with Orc bite and a riddle. Now she was following the same tunnels as Oro, down, down and down she rustled. She skittered over bridges at the bottom network of caverns and caves until she came to same stone door, which was now open. There was light flickering inside. She peered inside, her golden eyes seeming to glow in the torchlight with their Huorn eye shine. She slipped into the empty clan hall and followed the sounds she was hearing into the side hall. Someone was in here. She peered into the office to see a familiar looking muscular dwarf (Oro) behind the Cave Master desk. She recognized the thick dark beard and his blue eyes. Oakie slipped closer and tilted her round fluffy crown. "Oro?"

[Dis]

OCC: I had a big post and it logged me out and I lost it! Blegh! This one will be shorter.

Morogs Halls

Dis was so intent on finding out if her quarters were undisturbed that she failed to notice Oro's footprints that went through the main hall and down the hall where the miners' offices were. She had sealed her rooms with Dwarven magic. She hoped the spell had held against any disturbance by goblins. She moved quietly by habit down to the end of the hall where the living quarters were. The Morogs Halls were permanently lit with a warm light by gems they had found that had a permanent glow. She were set in sconces on pillars and walls. She found her door at the very end. It was still sealed with Dwarven magic. She put her hand on the knob and said the words. The door opened with a quiet click.

She entered shutting the door behind her. She failed to notice that she did not close it all the way. Her rooms were undisturbed and the only dust was what had drifted down off of the rock ceiling.

Her first order of business was to get something decent to wear and get a bath. She went into her bedroom and threw open her wardrobes. Her clothes were still in the condition she had left them in. She chose a black tunic and breeches and black steel plated boots. She had worn those when she was a Berserker. She went through the trunk at the foot of her bed. She passed over the mithril coat she had worn when she was Queen. Such a thing was too fine for her now. Instead she chose a glittering black chainmail coat -part of her Berserker uniform.

She would have had to build a fire under her copper bathtub for a warm bath. She didn't want to fuss with that. She filled the tub from a spigot that was fed with cold water from a spring. While the tub filled she built a roaring fire in her sitting room fire place. After she was scrubbed and tubbed, she left a layer of sludge in the bottom of the bath when it had drained. She dried, combed and dressed in front of the fire.

She examined her reflection in the hall mirror. The Mirrormere had shown her a filthy wreck of a dwarf. Her once dark brown hair and beard were now white and shone like mithril. The tattoo on her face was faded but her black eyes were still bright and glittering. She picked up her battle axe from the hall tree and looked at her reflection again. She looked like a Berserker again. A really old one. She put her axe down. Who was she kidding?

She froze. What was that sound?

[Oro]

Morog Halls

With a lit pipe in hand, and a bottle of ale on the table, Oro set about finding parchment and began to write out recruitment paperwork. He would need plenty of employees to get the mines going again and he knew there were plenty of potential Morogs looking to be hired. After a few hours of work, Oro heard movement in the hallway. Maybe his verbal announcement in the local tap rooms that the mines were reopening had been met with some interest.

Head down mid writing, Oro head the dwarf approach his door, and then heard a voice. One that he recognized as not being dwarvish but knew immediately. It was his dear friend Oak. Looking up, the eyes of the dwarf widened, brilliant sapphires of light flashing in the dim gem light. “Oak, my dear! How have you been?” And without hesitation the dwarf had risen and approached the huorn. Wrapping the tree in a large hug, Oro continued, “It has been far too long. Are you looking for work?”

Mojaks Clan

Everyone knew that Fjord was an old dwarf. How old? No one knew. His beard a tangle of white and silver hair flowing into a sapphire studded ring would probably touch his toes, if it was not for the intricate braids keeping it from tickling his toes. He had been clan leader of the Mojak’s many years ago and had retired to an advising patriarchal role as his age caught up with him. No longer as dexterous nor as nimble as he had once been, the venerable dwarf was still a true friend to any that bore the clan title, Mojak.

Sitting in the clan great hall, feet up on a stool before the fire, he was currently reading a scroll. Leaning forward, his hand flicked through the air drawing a rune that after muttering a few words began to glow before the parchment. A flash of light later and there was a floating orb of blue fire shimmering above the paper. Fjord motioned to his shoulder and the blue light followed his fingertips, floating just above his left shoulder. Fjord leaned back, his eyes narrowing on the parchment. In the room down the hall, he could hear Sigga with some poor dwarf, working her medical magics on him. He smiled, as he heard the chuckle of the medic, knowing she had inflicted some pain on the poor lad.

Soon after a young dwarf, barely able to support the wisps of hair on his face, come rushing out with a look of panic on his face. Hurried, he shooed off down the hall. Immediately after, Sigga extricated herself from the Medical Chambers. She walked through the great hall heading towards one of the side rooms, and the elderly Fjord ribbed at her, “Didn’t leave the poor lad in too much pain did ya?” He smiled, with the blue light his face was shrouded in a pale ghostly light, “Did you at least have fun?”

[Thorin Firehelm]

Burx Uzbans

Deep beneath the mountains, where no light shone nor birds sang lay the chambers of the clans of Khazaddum. It had been some years since Thorin Firehelm had ventured into these halls, but not for a hundred would he ever forget the ways and paths of them. Boots heavily stomped through the stone archways and down the smooth stairs, Thorin arrived presently at a door. Not any ordinary door. This door had been hewn into the rock so clearly and smoothly that, unless one knew it was there, you would miss it altogether. Taking a large, brass key from his pocket, Thorin inserted it into the lock and clicked it open. Dust and damp came billowing out immediately but that only added to his sense of homeliness. Striding across the smooth floor, he sat down at his old desk. The ravages of time had rendered the colour incomprehensible but it had, in fact, been mahogany at one time. The front was covered in dwarvish runes. "What to do first?" Thorin asked himself. Should he venture forth and discover the other clam members presently busying themselves above him. No, not yet. First item of business would be setting out his vision for the clan and compiling an advertisement to draw people back. He would lead the clan but, in order to restore it to its former glory, he would need bodies and lots of them.

[Dis]

Morog Clan Halls

Dis listened for a bit but the sound was not repeated. She changed out of her Berserker uniform and tried on her Queenly duds. She was clad in red velvet with her mithril coat over it. Jewel studded belt, boots and mantle completed the ensemble. She had no crown: that naturally, went to the next ruler. Gems and mithril looked less out of place on an old dwarf. The finery seemed to make her white hair gleam brighter. The gleaming metal and gems reminded her of another place, where she had seen the Valar. Had she really been to the West or had that all been actually at the bottom of a tankard? Blasted strong drink had deprived her of much of her memory and reason. She had the most trouble remembering people and their names.

She took off her Queenly array. She wasn't ready to go out looking that that. That queen had been somebody else. She could own that she had been a Berserker but not a queen. Now she was old with somewhat addled wits but she was still strong enough to dig. She could do that. She changed into the simple brown and leather of a miner. She braided her thick snowy locks into one long braid down her back. She put her beard into six satiny braids. Her hair looked unusually bright against the brown leather as if it had a bit of it's own light. She made one concession to her former splendor: She donned one big flashing ruby ring. She gazed into the fiery gem. She had a memory of a big fiery hammer. That hammer had been hers -or was that another dream? She thumped the side of her head to knock that odd notion out. She looked at her reflection again. This was the old Dis. A tiny, somewhat slender dwarf with snapping black eyes. Her face didn't look that different. The tattoo was faded but otherwise, it was mostly the white hair that made her look aged.

There was that sound again. She strapped on her shoulder harness and her big axe and slipped out into the hall. Her door clicked quietly as she closed it all the way. She stood listening. This time she heard voices. Her soft boots made no sound as she moved up the hallway into the main hall. She stood and listened again. People were talking over in the offices hall. They sounded familiar, friendly. Friends: How long had it been since she had any of those?

She made her walk less sneaky and paranoid and more nonchalant. But there was that big 'ol axe on her back. She'll pretend like it wasn't there.

She walked into Oro's office and gazed at the pair talking. She pointed at Oro. "You, I know." She looked at Oak. "Weren't you outside by the lake? Did you follow me in here? Oh I know! You were the Christmas tree!" She burst out laughing before plopping into a chair. "Sorry. My wits aren't what they used to be. Don't remember my own name half of the time."

[Oak]

Morog Clan Halls

Oakie has wrapped Oro in soft leafy hug that smelled rather of cinnamon. Then she straitened up, her soulful eyes glinting in the torchlight. " Yes I am," her voice was bit creaky sounding. She produced her old leather pouch. He was worn and weathered. "I may have to set about replacing this. I'll have to check the supply cupboard I had and see what state it is in. I will do whatever you need me to do. I can cut rock, and I can also doctor any one of you that either gets sick or hurt on the job".

Then Oak turned to the Dwarf that had just seem to slip into the room like a ghost. Her white hair seemed to glow. Oakie blinked. She recognized the face with the fading Beserker tattoo. "Weren't you the odoriferous one right outside the gate at the Mirrormere? If you knew about the Christmas tree incident, you must have been one of the Beserkers that caught me in my sleep. I'll have you know there was a rock in that pot!" Oakie scratched her brow thoughtfully. Then she pointed at the Dwarf. "You must be Dis!"

[Winddancer]

Mojaks

Sigga stopped mid swig at the sound of the familiar voice, swinging round to face Fjord with a huge satisfied grin on her face. "These days, you only have the fun you make yourself!" Raising the flagon, she finally took another drink, letting out a long breathy sigh as the strong beer warmed her gut. "Damn this is good stuff, almost a shame to waste it on wounds, want some?"

Without waiting for a response, she headed over to the elderly dwarf and plonked herself down heavily in a chair next to him, throwing her feet up next to his on the stool. "Aaah, that's more like it.." Letting out a growled sigh as the fire started warming her tired limbs, Sigga took another swig before setting the flagon on the floor between them so Fjord could help himself. "Is it just me, or are the younglings a little less.. hardy these day? I mean, a splinter! A frigging splinter! Back in the day, they would have pulled out their dagger and cut the bugger out themselves and head back to work, am I right?! Of course I am right.." she mumbled a few unpleasantries under her breath before reaching back down for the flagon, taking another long sip before replacing it.

"Not like Ravna! You know, my granddaughter? Of course you know her, what am I saying.." Sigga shook her head, pushing one of her gray locks back behind her ear. "Anyway, she wold never come to me with a stupid splinter I can tell you that! Now that girl is hardy! Hardy like we were back in the day, you remember?" Sigga chuckled softly to herself as she let her mind wander back to her youth.

[Oro]

Morog Halls

The bush shaped huorn smelled of cinnamon and tree bark, and Oro couldnt help but smile as he felt the hug returned. Pulling away, he spoke softly, “A doctor would be much appreciated, ma’am. We have plenty of injuries in the mines.” As he was talking, Oro had also noticed that there was a second visitor in the hallway. She was moving nonchalantly but Oro recognized her immediately . He dropped the hug with Oak and dashed over to Dis wrapping her into a hug as well before she dropped into one of the chairs in his office.

Oro stepped around the desk and sat back down, “Well we have plenty to talk about, but first ill give you the business update. As you know after the last goblin incursion there was damage to the mines.” He pulled out a map and started marking on it, “I was able to determine the weak structural points, but we will need manpower.” Swapping the map out for a few of his fliers he continued, “Was hoping to get a chance top get the word out about the situation and our hiring updates. That way these mines can get moving again.”

He stopped and then turned to Oak, “The old supply cabinet should have plenty of replacements for you. Grab one whenever you need. Our supplies are still pretty high, since we havent had a chance to use the,” Then turning back to Dis, he put one hand on his beard and the other on his desk, “It’s been so long, where have you been?” He noticed that her beard had gone shock white, and he had a weird feeling that it wasn’t just the gems that were glowing in the room. His hand slid up to his berserker tattoo on the side of his face, as he looked at Dis. He had been the commander of the Berserkers after her, when she had taken the throne. And had served as her right hand for many years.

But now it was back to the simple life. There was no King or Queen on the throne, the council of clan leaders would lead and that would be enough for Khazad-Dum.

Mojaks Clan

Sigga stopped her walk down the hall and plopped into the chair across from Fjord. He smiled and waved for her to continue as she started a rant about the young kids these days and he nodded appropriately as she offered him some beer. Taking the flagon, Fjord gulped heavily on the strong beer and sighed deeply as the liquid flowed across his tongue and down his throat. Ahh the good stuff. He leaned forward returning the flagon to the floor before the matronly, Sigga, and then settled in for a conversation. Taking a pipe from deep within his robes, he packed it slowly, listening intently to Sigga as she first talked about her patient.

Knowing she wouldn’t hear him over her rant, Fjord mumbled, “Well Sigga, that seemed to be more than a minor splinter..but I take your point, the young uns these days seem rather soft.” His fingers fumbled over the pipe as he dropped some tobacco on his lap, “Dagnabbit, these old fingers aren’t what they used to be.” He began cleaning his robes as she talked about her daughter, who she esteemed to be a hardy young girl. “She pick a clan yet? Sounds like a Morog, or a Yukog to me. Work hard down in the mines or the smith.” And then his eye twinkled, “And I remember. I remember pulling your ass out of the fire more than a time or two.”

“We were impatient, foolhardy, and had wonderful times.” He smiled, finally getting his pipe lit and then offered the pouch of tobacco to his old friend, before snapping his fingers and with a sizzle, his pipe lit at the end of his fingertips. He smiled and slipped it between his lips, playing with it for a moment before finding a comfortable spot to set it. A moment of thoughtfulness later and he released the pipe and then blew out a large smoke ring that floated up into the corner of the room. “I’m too old for those types of things now, but sometimes I wonder, should I go on one last great adventure?” He smiled at his nonsense, the crazy light in his eyes dimming for a moment.

[Dis]

Morog Clan Halls

Dis wondered where to start and if she would be believed. "Um- well I kinda been all over. Got thrown out of more taverns than I can count. Cheesed off a bunch of orcs in Mordor. Boy did I run then! H-herm! I even saw the undying lands if you can believe that. And I saw the Halls of Waiting. Saw Thorin Oakenshield there. He looked kinda sheepish. All that fuss over the Arkenstone. It's sitting on his bones under the Mountain and he's over there in the Halls." As she talked she tapped nervously on the desk, not sure how what she said would be received. "I talked to Durin the Deathless." She laughed. "Deathless, he ain't. Mahal wouldn't let him go back after so many returnings." She stopped realizing how crazy she sounded. "I also talked to some dwarves who know what's down there." She pointed to the floor, her eyes gleaming. "What they saw before they woke up the balrog.There's more mithril to be had. So much more."

She looked at her companions. "There's us three. Mebbe a tour to survey the damage is a good place to start. Goblins wreck everything they touch. Glad they didn't get into our halls."

[Mognar Firebeard]

Burx Usbans Clan hall

Mognar walked up to the clan halls of the Burx Usbans. His love of pipeweed, singing, feasting and tending bars had led him back to the long lost clan hall. He found the stone door and saw that it had been opened. This was a good sign, it meant that there would be someone present. As Mognar used to be part of this clan and had spent some time tending bars and even looked after the clan for a while he wondered who he would find familiar faces, or all new dwarves and that he would only be a mere stranger comming back to these halls. As he walked through, he noticed that it was only quite recent that someone had entered these halls.

As he was weary from the journey he had taken to get back to his beloved clan he walked over to where the clanpub used to be. After a short walk he found that it was still there. "Ahh, the clan pub, glad to know that it is still there, now I hope I can find a barrel filled with some good dwarven ale to celebrate my homcoming." He said to himself and to anyone who wanted to hear. He opened the wooden door and walked in. Dust lay everywhere and Mognar let out a sigh. This place has been abonded for too long, it needs tending. He found some candles, lit them and was happy to see that there was still wood lying near the fireplace. He got a fire going and a grin apeared on his face. "Ahhh here we are again, the fire burning, candles are lit, now I just need to find a barrel af ale and then I can have a drink and will start cleaning up." He was looking for some barrels but couldn't find any at first sight. So he decided to just sit by the fireplace and smoke his pipe and think about he good old days before cleaning up, he needed to rest.

[Winddancer]

Mojaks

Sigga waved a no to the offer of tobacco, paying no real attention to Fjord just having lit his pipe with his fingers. She was a mojaks as well and knew how to do most of the magics herself. And while there was no doubt that Fjord knew more, there was no way that Sigga would ever admit that, to him or anyone else.

"Ravna? Pick a clan, you mark my words Fjord, the way she is, she will likely start her own! It has been a while since I have seen anyone with such fire, such spunk.." a melancholy smile spread across her lips, softening some of the lines on her face, allowing for a rare glimpse of the beauty she had once been. But the glimpse quickly faded as she shook her head, the silver rings in her braided hair tinkling. "Nah Fjord.. our adventuring days are over. It is their time now. Oh, speaking of the devil, look who it is!" An even bigger grin lit her face, pride shining brightly in her slate gray eyes as she saw her granddaughter walk over.

"Hello me dear! What brings you by?" The elderly dwarf made no move to get up, though did tilt her head to allow Ravna to kiss her on the cheek. "Sigga, Fjord.." Ravna allowed with a nod knowing full well her grandmother would slap her if she used anything but her name, quickly pecking her grandmother on the cheek before knocking both of their feet from the stool and slapping her bum down on it. Without being offered, the young woman leaned forward and grabbed the flagon, scowling when she realised there was almost nothing in it. "Should have known with the pair of you here.." she growled before downing the remains. "So, what did you do to Dreag? Hmm?" Ravna gave her grandmother a stern glare, though a slight amused twinkle lit her eyes.

[Oak]

Morog Clan Halls

"So there's hope my medical supplies are not wrecked," Oakie replied. I see you have turned up all washed up and in unspoiled clothes. Maybe my bath and cabinets are not spoiled." Oakie rustled down the hall and took a turned to the left. There there was a door with a red ruby set in it just level with her eyes. It glowed with its own light. It was carved with the shape of what looked like an Oak. There was dust at the bottom of the door. It looked like it had not been opened in ages. Oakie touched the ruby. The door made a snap and swung open a crack. She pushed the door open. There were still the granite shelves lined with all kinds of bottles There was her granite tub with the spigot fed by a underground spring. Oakie didn't need to have her bath heated. She just liked to soak in the water under the glowing stones which were set in sconces in the walls. A good number of them were in Oakie's 'Office' to make her happy as she loved light.

She opened the glass doors on a cabinet and found a fresh pouch. She transferred her supplies into it. She also stocked up on new supplies. She returned to Oro's deck with the fresh tawny colored pouch. "Those foul Orcs didn't touch my quarters either".

[Veowyn]

Yukogs smith workshops
(Open to anyone joining me)

"NO! Father! I am not going to start making your weapons and such now!" Vigri folded her arms across her chest. "Who was the one who told me, 'You would not know the first thing about working with such large smithing materials...' Instead of actually teaching me! I am too far behind dwarves of my age, in the art of weaponsmithing. You gave me a child's pretend smith kit, and taught uninterested Vali and Herli. I made a career out of what I was given, perfected it even. I make jewelry. And probably the finest pieces this clan has seen in some time!" Her gray eyes lit with a bit of pride. "Not my fault that you had not banked on both my brothers taking after Mammy's family and prefer to be topside, hunting." She turned away from her father, even though he was no longer trying to argue. It was not that he wasn't mad, with the same temper as any dwarf, he just had not thought of a comeback yet.

Vigri went back to her work space, as small and child like as it seemed. It was suitable with small tools and equipment, for small, delicate work. Sure, she knew the basics would apply on the bigger scale, but she was just no longer interested in making weapons or metal armor. She wanted to design, and create beautiful things! Things that anyone could wear; not something people would be expected to learn how to use in battle. Right now, on her work table she was bending very delicate gold wires to make a couple ear baubles. She would adorn this setting with the wonderful little pearls she'd found inside the oysters at a lake side tavern on their way to Khazad Dum. A rare and wonderful score these were. They shone in the light in a way that was very different than gemstones, but they were obviously no less valuable. Some day she would have a whole set, but for now she only had these two to work with.

She could hear her father still pacing and muttering around behind her. He was behind on his work, but was not going to find any help with her.

[Nerwen Nuke-queen]

Frea - Yukogs Clan
A carpenter

Frea had been down to the workshop early that day. The early morning was the only time she managed to work on personal projects. The current list of orders from across Middle - Earth was extensive and dwarven handiwork was often in demand. Though the Clans worked efficiently, high quality products took time and the Masters would never send anything out which wasn't below standard. Just before the gong was rung to mark the start of the working day, Frea smoothed a hand over the carved figurine she had made. It was one of a set of thirteen dwarves. She put the final one down next to its fellows and leant back to view her work. Now she just needed to prime and paint them, but that would have to wait until tomorrow.

The dwarfette stretched and set off across the workshop to get a cup of water. As she moved past the smiths and metal workers, she heard raised voices coming across the workshop. A dwarfette with deep gray eyes was standing, arms crossed, against an older weapons smith. Frea took no real notice, but having been to the water tub, she circled around and stopped, eyeing the wares on the young dwarf's (Vigri) @Veowyn table, "Say", she said, not wanting to touch but definitely drawn to the shiny work before her, "so you are working as a jewller?"

[KingODuckingham]

Kagam Khazads
NPC Nali

"Och, 'tis a bit hard on the bones, you'd have to agree?" Nali said. He was grouchy at being roused so late in the morning. He usually rose fantastically early, then took a morning nap, but it had been interrupted by a call for help. He was told by the young dwarf messenger that some higher-ups had had dreams and visions last night, all of the same thing. Nali was being called on to interpret. While this was his job, he still didn't enjoy being asked to do it. Besides, it was a fair mile and a hop to the upper levels where those leaders conregated. They had to, it was a more central location, but Nali preferred to descend deep into the dregs of Khazad-Dum, and spent almost all of his time there.

His eyes were going milky, and were very large. His limbs were flaccid with age, and he had to ask the messenger to lend an arm when ascending the steeper stairs. His beard was nearly as long as he was, and was white with only occasional streaks of deep grey around his jowls. He walked very slowly, partially from necessity but also because he could not be bothered to hurry. He carried an axe out of pure ceremony, being far too aged to fight in battle, and it rested along the now-natural bent in his back. He creaked and groaned as he walked.

"This had better be important, don't they understand how difficult it is for me to leave the deep mines, my home?" he asked irritably. He got no response, which was just as well, because he would have lashed out no matter what was said. He was just looking to complain. He knew better than anyone that nobody else could do the interpretative work he did. The only question was what had come to the dreams of the leading dwarves that had disturbed them enough to summon him.

[Nerwen Nuke-queen]

Nerwen Meneldur,
Clan Leader
Kagam Khazads

The dwarfette put both palms on the table and pushed herself to standing, raising her voice over those of the other dwarves. "Enough!" She smacked the table for emphasis. "You are making a sham of yourselves! The learned scholars and lorists of Khazad-dum squabbling like children. I truly despair". Nerwen swept out from behind the table, pushing her high backed chair away and made off down the cavern, turning to face her clan at the mid point of the table. "You all know that only Nali can help us with this, so please, may I respectfully ask you all shut up and wait for him to arrive". The dwarves seated around the long table all started muttering behind their hands and pointing across the table and their colleagues with various whispers of oh he started, yes it was that one, always a argumentative one she was, dwarf should keep her beard on in a crisis. Nerwen pushed up her purple sleeves and fixed them all with a beady eye, "And may I also remind you, to be respectful to the dwarf. He is doing us all a service." She moved back to her chair, sitting down on the silver cushion and tilting back, holding on to the arms with hands that bore many rings, continuing to eye her clan.

[KingODuckingham]

Kagam Khazads
NPC Nali

Nali was huffing and puffing by the time he made it to the great hall. It was not how he wished to make an entrance; his pride was insulted by having to appear before the council in such a state. These circumstances were causing his already fragile temper to deteriorate further. Yet he held his tongue in the presence of his clan leader. If anyone was deserving of respect, it was she, and for her sake he remained stoic, turning his bow in her direction, but acknowledging each of the leaders at the table.

"It is my understanding that several of you have received a vision," he said, with labored breath. "And furthermore, that when you consulted, you realized you had all had the same vision. Highly unusual." he said gruffly, as though he still could not quite believe it.

He asked for permission to take a seat off to one side of the room. The trip up had been long and arduous for his frail bones, and to concentrate he needed to regain his strength of body and mind. While a pillow was brought for him to sit on, he said,

"Alright lads, let's not wait. Someone give me the details of what ye saw. Bari? Oin? Someone. Come on, speak up, my ears aren't what they used to be." He chided the leaders, gently for him. They were higher than he in authority, but much younger, and age counted for a lot in dwarven culture. Nali glanced over at Nerwen. Had someone already taken notes from a previous discussion? Not that it mattered--he needed to use his ears, not his watery eyes. If there was one dwarf in the whole clan who specialized most heavily in dreams and visions, it was Nali.

[Ta'leus Shieldsong]

Bani Caverunner
Clan Ankixog: Visiting Ananr

Bani never felt at home in the Halls of Clan Ankixog. Certainly the Dwarves there were friendly enough, they had adopted him into their clan when he was only a small child and been found wandering through the streets of Dale by a traveling bard. That Dwarf, Kodir the Drummer, had taken him to the Halls under the Lonely Mountain. And when the Dwarves set forth to reclaim Khazad-dum, the young orphan set out with them. As a child, he had felt quite free. While others his age attended school and were prone to find apprenticeships at a certain age, the young Bani wandered openly. He had learned some runes from an elder Dwarf-woman, who was always gentle to him because he would bring her little wooden carvings that he made. But for the most part, he avoided any sort of education and simply traveled through the Halls and did as he pleased. He was always provided for, as several Dwarven families let him dine with them when he visited, but he kept to himself. He had few friends, though those that he had he was fiercely loyal to.

One family, the Redhands, had a daughter named Ananr of a similar age to him. Once, when he was around nine years old, he had been out exploring in some of the abandoned mineshafts. He had no business being there, of course, but he went where he pleased. But this particular mineshaft had been abandoned for a reason. The rock there, for whatever reason, was unsound. Years before when it was first being mined, in the years of Khazad-dum's late glory days, several Dwarves died in its excavation. Ever since it had been left alone, even when the Dwarves resettled the old kingdom. And so when young Bani pried away from the old and rotting wood and climbed into the tunnel, he thought he was off to find adventure. With a small torch, he pressed on, only to reach a dead end. He set his torch down and started to move rocks, thinking he could crawl through and find treasures on the other side. Suddenly though, the rocks shifted, and a deep rumbling was heard overhead. Rocks started to fall, and soon he found himself trapped underneath a pile of rubble.

Desperately, he screamed and pleaded for anyone to come and save him. He knew though, even at that age, that no one would be near this part of the city. He was going to die. That was beyond certain to him, yet he still kept yelling. Perhaps it was simply his Dwarvish spirit, he would not pass without a fight. Even if all he could do was uselessly struggle under the rocks and scream himself hoarse, he would die fighting. But in truth, Bani was terrified. It wasn't courage that kept him yelling and fighting for his life, it was fear. He did not want to go, he was not ready to go to the Halls of Aule. His cries were those of a boy, alone, abandoned, with no home or family. There was no father, no mother coming to rescue him. No siblings would hear his pleas and hurry to find help. The only thing that heard him were the cold, carven walls of the mines. His small voice echoed, carrying his words farther than he would have guessed. Yet still, after an hour, there was no help coming.

He had yelled and yelled as long as he could, and his voice was nearly gone. Desperately, perhaps a final effort before his voice gave, he cried out one last time for help. His voice reverberated around the rock, sprinting along the tunnels and crawling its way through. He craned his neck, lifting his head as far as he could, wishing upon every star high over the mountains for someone, anyone to come along. But there was nothing. His torch had almost gone out, with only an hour of light left, if that. He hung his head and began to weep. His sobs were short, guttural, and weak. He did not have the energy or the strength of voice to cry deeply. Alone, far below the earth, he would die. Forgotten and nameless he would be, and he would pass forever from the minds of Clan Ankixog and all who knew him before. He had never before felt so hopeless, not even as a young child realizing that his parents had abandoned him in Dale. The end would come soon and he would cross over to the other side. Perhaps things would be different with Aule and his vast halls. Perhaps there, he would find a different life.

Suddenly a light appeared at the end of the tunnel. It was faint but grew slowly larger. But he did not see it. He had passed from consciousness already. What he did not see was a Dwarf girl, around his age, walk up to him and set her torch down. She slowly started moving rocks from his body, deliberately and very carefully so as not to upset them again. It took her nearly an hour and a half, and she had to relight his torch halfway through as hers was starting to die. But with time she freed him. She grabbed his small body with one hand and held her torch aloft with the other. It was difficult work, dragging him, and took far longer than she believed it would. But again, with time, she worked her way to the mouth of the tunnel. She dropped her torch, as some residual light illuminated the tunnels they were now in, and she dragged his body through the broken boards with both hands.

And there she left him, picking up her torch once more and running away to find help. When Bani finally came to, he was in the home of the Redhands, lying on a bed and being tended to by a Dwarven woman. His body was beaten and battered. Bruises, open cuts, and broken bones. Everything ached, but he was warm and felt strangely peaceful. And sitting next to him on the ground, holding his hand, was young Ananr. And it was that moment, looking at her face and holding her hand, with her mother tending his wounds, that cemented their friendship. 109 years had passed since then, and their friendship remained strong. She had since become a mother, wedding Karnok Ironeye of Clan Morog, and had two beautiful children to whom Bani was a beloved uncle. And it was to their home in the Halls of Clan Ankixog that he now ventured to, as they had lived with her clan since her husband had no living family. Yet even now, visiting the home of his oldest and most beloved friend in the clan in which he was raised, he still did not feel at home.

He finally came across their home and called out to them through the door.

[KingODuckingham]

Kagam Khazads
NPC Nali

Nali listened with a frown, but careful attention, as the elders poured out their troubles to him. It seemed there were rumblings, down in the deep. Literal rumblings. They had turned into more metaphorical rumbles as they made their way up into the Dwarven community of Khazad-dum, as the grumpy, sometimes superstitious children of Aule bickered and bellowed about what to do. There had never been such sounds in the deep. Some took it as a sign that they should cease vertical operations entirely, attempting instead to expand the tunnels to the north and south. Others argued that to reach the rumblings was precisely what would produce the greatest riches, and to do otherwise than dig was antithetical to Dwarven culture and their future. Still others sought some sort of compromise, to the scorn of both sides' extremes. The elders themselves were split along these lines, with no consensus able to be reached.

So they had dug Nali out of a different hole, and forced him up to their meeting place. What wisdom did he have, they wondered. Did he see signs they did not?

"Of course I see signs you do not." he barked. "Comes with the territory." The tenor of the room strained under such rudeness, but nobody dared say anything now. They needed him.

"You lot can't hardly tell what the weather will be tomorrow," Nali continued, "so it ain't no surprise you can't read the signs of the times." He looked around the room. He could no longer see much with his failing eyes, but he knew it was opulent. Decadent, even.

"Aye, decadence, that's the sign of these riches," he said. "Why, just look at this absurd pillow I'm sitting on as much you are! I ain't got one of these down in the depths. And why not? I'll tell you why." he said, spitting on the outstretched edge of his pillow. "It's because I ain't decadent! I know what to value, more than riches. I know what real riches are." he growled.

He paid no attention to the muttering and glares.

"Khazad-dum is more than prosperous. It's too prosperous. You don't get to be this rich without paying a cost somewhere else." Nali said firmly. "That cost is down there in the rumble. Avoid it. Now was there anything else?" he asked brusquely, knowing there would be many objections.

[Nen]

Kagam Khazads
Gaba

Gaba sat in the council of the dwarves, his brown eyes glittering with an inner red light. His red-brown beard was in intricate braids and was adorned with the sparkle of emeralds and sapphires glinting in the well lit fire of the council hall. About his stout neck lay a thick chain well studded with jewels that offset the myriad of rings on his fingers. His cushion was especially fluffy and comfortable. Gaba liked it that way. His face twisted into a sneer as he listened to old Nali's self-righteous tirade on decadence. He would show him decadence!

He had kept quiet thus far, determining his course of action from the start. But, as the old interpreter of dreams sat down, Gaba decided he must have his say. He tapped his fingers rhythmically upon the table before him, as he began low and quiet, "What are these real riches that you value more, you Old Grey Beard? The fact that you're still alive? It is these riches that you scoff at that keep our clans going; that take us back to the glory days of our forefathers!"

Aware of nodding heads about him, Gaba was inspired to sit forward and spread out his be-ringed fingers on the table before him. He rose steadily off his chair, and his deep voice rumbled with disagreement. "As one of the clan who greatly supports the richness and greatness of Khaza-dum, that helps make these halls of the children of Aule reflect the might and power of their maker, I do believe we have nothing to fear. Those rumbles are nothing but the sounds of more things to discover. Fantastic and formidable, and bound to put this currently generation of Dwarves in the historical books of the wise of both our race and that of the other races." He looked as many members in the eye as he could. "I say we keep digging! Let it never be said that Durin's Folk were afraid of a few noises from the very earth that our clans have, since the beginning of the ages, considered a friend, a mother that yields up her riches for her children with good will. Keep digging and see what has, as yet, to be yielded into our hands!"

Sparked by his own unplanned words, the red light of avarice in Gaba's eyes seemed to leap forth aflame, and his voice reverberated through the halls, "We keep digging!"

[Afird Splitax]

Ankixogs

Drifa gazed at the Hall where once a great tent had stood; where many a song, tale and poem had been shared. The Tent of the Ankixogs.
The clan of earth -guides, wanderers, singers, speakers and poets. A place where friends gathered and friends departed. Now only a faded scorch upon the stone floor marked where the tent had been. All other traces of the fire had disappeared over the years.

"Dear Mahal', Drifa thought. "Has it been fifteen years already since I lost you, kimli?"
Fighting the lump that suddenly filled her throat, she wiped her misty eyes and sighed deeply. She had come to the conclusion that the pain of loss never went away, it just took to wandering and extended holidays.

Her sister kimli had perished in the fire that had rage here. Devastated by events, Drifa did not linger long with the clan afterwards. She departed and went back to the Lonely Mountain to grieve and heal.
But some how she always knew that she would return to Khazad-dûm. There was a deep longing inside of her to spend the days of her life where her sister had found such happiness.

Looking around her, she saw that the Hall was quite empty. And dusty! A light shone from the residence's district (home of the Redhands), but she was not ready to socialize just yet. She was in need of lodgings and time to settle in.

In These Halls of my Choice

Now my course I must not regress
Death, close sister of mine,
stands in the past, in the past
And with resolution
And with remorse
I shall gladly live my life here
In these halls of my choice
And by perchance meet your ghost
In these halls of my choice
I shall gladly live my life here
I shall gladly wait my death here

[Afird Splitax]

Ankixogs

Drifa was settled in (all dust in her rooms had met the broom and the brush and had been swept and scrubbed). It had taken awhile, the accumulation had been years old. Strange thing is dust. If the rooms had been closed up, as they were, where did the dust come from? The stone ceiling, walls and floors, were all solid. The heavy wooden door sealed quite tightly. The air-hole in the corner of the ceiling, was designed to pull air upwards. She had climbed up and placed her hand upon it not long ago. The suction was good, which was important if one wanted a fire in the hearth to boil water for a pot of tea. Still the question was, where did the dust come from?

Sitting with her feet up, tea cup by her elbow, she mused over this as she went through a pack that had once belonged to her sister kimli. She had taken it with her when she had left Khazad-dûm and stowed it away. And here it was back where it started from, and she had never even looked in it until now.
Loosening the belt that held the pack closed, she open it and reached inside. The first thing she brought out was a yellowed piece of parchment. The Cirth script was beautifully done. She began to read.

The quarters of the Ankixogs are located in the East end of Khazad-dûm, on the Seventh Level. Upon entering the Great Gates you stand in a hall bright with daylight, lit from light shafts in the East. To the left is an archway where soft light emitting from within can be seen. As you pass through the archway you enter a cave that is surprisingly large. The walls shimmer with soft hues lit by the many torches that glow within. In the middle of this cave you will find an enormously large tent. This is the Tent in the Cave the Ankixogs home.

Upon enter the tent you will find yourself at the head of a long hall with many doors on either side. To your left, firstly, you will find a cloak room and two crowded storerooms. Ankixogs, being inclined to wandering, have lots of gear, especially packs, walking sticks and boots. Continuing down on your left, you will find two more doors that lead to the separate sleeping quarters of the male and female Ankixogs. Each room is furnished with mattresses of sweet smelling straw and warm woolen blankets: rooms have a hearth and separate bathing areas.
Continuing down this hall, further in towards the back, a kitchen can be found where a fire burns low in a large hearth. A large pot of soup can be found warming on the hearth at all times. Towards the right a dining area with another smaller hearth. On the left-hand side of the kitchen you will find an alcove with a storeroom, a pantry, a bathing area, and an Ice House. Constructed in the cave wall adjacent to the tent, the Ice House has 2 feet (0.61 meters) thick, ceiling, walls, floor and door made of oak. It is kept cool by ice blocks transported from Caradhras. A wonderful construction that keeps the Ankixogs food supplies fresh. You will also find a exit door leading out of the cave to a trail that leads into the mountains (where the ice can be found). Exiting the kitchen and heading to the right you will find two other rooms. One room has storage and another exit . Going through this exit you will find yourself in an alcove where cloaks are also hung for colder weather. In this room an opening leads you outside. Higher than the Great Gates upon the East side of the dale, a stone veranda has been constructed. This is the Look Out. Off the Look Out, stairs have been built into the side of the mountain and lead down to a path which leads to the Mirrormere and Durin’s Stone. The other room is a a guest bedroom with private bathing area.

Back inside you make your way down the hall once more. Advancing to the front of the tent, you will find on the right hand side three more rooms: a large Keg/Icehouse constructed in the same fashion as the kitchen ice house ( it is also kept cool by ice blocks transported from Caradhras): a Common Room where a large hearth and comfortable chairs are about: a Library /Study, where books, ink and quill lay about on tables. Artifacts decorate the walls while harps and other musical instruments can be found about. A fire burns in a hearth giving the room a soft glow. There are many smoke holes in the roof of the Tent in the Cave.

These are the quarters of the Ankixogs.

[corlisswyn]

Yukogs
Yukog Smithing Cave #54

Ludhin smiled as the wood began glowing a near white yellow, generating a heat wave that washed over him like a comforting blanket. Since leaving the Lonely Mountain two months ago to return to Khazad-Dum, he had been yearning to start up his first forge fire. This was the first step to him settling into his new cave and his new life here. He was already an old man at 208 years old, but centuries of crafting and wielding axes and hammers kept him strong and in better shape than most dwarves five decades younger.

He took a seat on a slab of rock as he watched the fire burn. He brought with him little but his blacksmith tools and his weapons. Furniture was the first on his list to build; a proper bed and a table and chairs. While not the traditional skills of a blacksmith, the years at the Lonely Mountain gave him the opportunity to work with wood as much as metal, and both skills were core to the Yukog clan. He would still need to purchase items, and while he had no intention of leaving his cave tonight, he would soon have to venture out to the markets and the other clans to find wares and goods.

[Afird Splitax]

The quarters of the Ankixogs are located in the East end of Khazad-dûm, on the Seventh Level. Upon entering the Great Gates you stand in a hall bright with daylight, lit from light shafts in the East. To the left is an archway where soft light emitting from within can be seen. As you pass through the archway you enter a cave that is surprisingly large. The walls shimmer with soft hues lit by the many torches that glow within. In the middle of this cave you will find an enormously large tent. This is the Tent in the Cave the Ankixogs home.

Upon enter the tent you will find yourself at the head of a long hall with many doors on either side. To your left, firstly, you will find a cloak room and two crowded storerooms. Ankixogs, being inclined to wandering, have lots of gear, especially packs, walking sticks and boots. Continuing down on your left, you will find two more doors that lead to the separate sleeping quarters of the male and female Ankixogs. Each room is furnished with mattresses of sweet smelling straw and warm woolen blankets: rooms have a hearth and separate bathing areas.
Continuing down this hall, further in towards the back, a kitchen can be found where a fire burns low in a large hearth. A large pot of soup can be found warming on the hearth at all times. Towards the right a dining area with another smaller hearth. On the left-hand side of the kitchen you will find an alcove with a storeroom, a pantry, a bathing area, and an Ice House. Constructed in the cave wall adjacent to the tent, the Ice House has 2 feet (0.61 meters) thick, ceiling, walls, floor and door made of oak. It is kept cool by ice blocks transported from Caradhras. A wonderful construction that keeps the Ankixogs food supplies fresh. You will also find a exit door leading out of the cave to a trail that leads into the mountains (where the ice can be found). Exiting the kitchen and heading to the right you will find two other rooms. One room has storage and another exit . Going through this exit you will find yourself in an alcove where cloaks are also hung for colder weather. In this room an opening leads you outside. Higher than the Great Gates upon the East side of the dale, a stone veranda has been constructed. This is the Look Out. Off the Look Out, stairs have been built into the side of the mountain and lead down to a path which leads to the Mirrormere and Durin’s Stone. The other room is a a guest bedroom with private bathing area.

Back inside you make your way down the hall once more. Advancing to the front of the tent, you will find on the right hand side three more rooms: a large Keg/Icehouse constructed in the same fashion as the kitchen ice house ( it is also kept cool by ice blocks transported from Caradhras): a Common Room where a large hearth and comfortable chairs are about: a Library /Study, where books, ink and quill lay about on tables. Artifacts decorate the walls while harps and other musical instruments can be found about. A fire burns in a hearth giving the room a soft glow. There are many smoke holes in the roof of The Tent in the Cave.

These are the Quarters of the Ankixogs, a group of happy-go-lucky Dwarves that enjoy music, good food, good ale, trekking about, the stars, the moon, more good ale, friendship, sing-a-longs, cooking, knitting, and much more.
Everyone is welcome to enter The Tent In The Cave and share a song, a poem, a tale, or just their company. You will find Drifa here, busy doing what she does best - keeping the soup pot full and making sure everything is clean and tidy for your visit.
Come on in!

Mark which room you are in, please.
A fun RP, mind you rules apply, please.
Whiteout your OOC, please.
Posts over 300 characters, please.