Canther and Kerosion They were sitting around the hearth, in a stone room near the heart of Harondor's castle. The walls are all inlaid gold and the floor is some kind of hard wood that looks like ivory. There is a HUGE chair where Harondor sits and lords it over his guests to remind them who's in charge. Canther and Prather are drinking brandy, and Harondor has a glass of something thick and red that stains his mouth. Canther is reminiscing about the Mirkwood. It was a time of peace. Sauron had not yet placed his mark on Kraun and the clan wars were still in our future. Although I had grown up in the Greenwood which was later known as The Mirkwood, this was my first trip to east since the death of the dragon. Years before, Smaug had been in the habit of turning everyone in the area into toast and people had been slow to move back. Some of the regular residents in the forest may also have contributed to a general lack of population. It was early spring and there was still a bite to the air. I was camped near the Forest River south of the bridge. I had a rabbit that was nearly finished roasting over the fire and I was thinking of ways to get a leg off of it without burning my fingers. In the Mirkwood, even in the clearings, it's so damned black that the trees just absorb a campfire and that night, along with dark came a damp mist that was not quite rain but wet enough to ensure that my blanket would be damp all night. Then I got a feeling that I was being watched. In the wood, it happens all the time, so you get kind of used to it, but this time it made the hair on the back of my hands stand up. I pretended to stretch my legs as I rolled a little toward my sword. I thought I heard the tiniest whisper of movement from the beechwoods to my left and I was about to make my move when a voice, soft, but pitched to carry, says, "Hello the camp." I grabbed the sword and got to my feet anyway but I figured as quiet as this fellow had come up on me, he could have just said nothing and feathered me with an arrow so I told him, "Come ahead, traveler. You may as well have the fire as stand in the bush." He was a dwarven warrior, dressed in light mail but he moved unusual grace and quiet for a dwarf, especially armored. When he got to the fire, he pulled off his helmet and favored me with an easy smile but even then, I noticed something about his eyes under those bushy black brows that made me uneasy. Before he sat down, he wrapped a recurved bow in an oilskin and laid it away from the fire. "They call me Kero, " he said, with a funny grin, "It's short for Kerosion." I'm used to traveling alone and I don't mind a quiet camp but as we got to know each other, I was glad for the company for he told stories about the dwarves of Erebor and his dealings with the wood elves to the north. He seemed to be sort of a freebooter. He made it plain right off that he wasn't particularly concerned about any orderly sense of right or wrong but at the same time, he was honest about it, like it was just his way of life. We got around to talking about his plans for the following day and he flashed a grin that reminded me of a river pike, "If you'll follow me up to Erebor tomorrow and help me steal an ax, I'll make it worth your while," he said. I had been curious about the dwarves for some time and this looked like an chance to slip into Erebor for a closer look so I told him I would think on it until morning. I figured if we got into trouble, He looked like he could carry his weight. I was right about that. Kerosion was always dangerous as hell and a little bit crazy. After while it got quiet and we just sat there, listening to the night. The fire was almost down to coals so I put on a little more wood. "I'll wake you in a couple of hours," I told him and he just nodded and pulled a blanket from his pack. In minute or two he was snoring softly, like he hadn't a care in the world. Before the sun had burned away the mist, the next morning, we were on the trail to Erebor and within an hour or so, we turned on to a wide, stone-laid road that began to go up hill to where it eventually would end at the dwarven stronghold. Seems like the dwarves and the orcs were constantly at war with each other. Maybe it's because they both prefer to live underground and compete for space or something. Anyway, that morning there was a lot of orc activity and by the time we reached the gates, we both had bloodied our weapons on orc sentries. One big guy that Kero killed had a fancy, jeweled sword belt which would have brought a good price at the shops except it wasin pretty poor condition by the time Kero got done with the orc. He stripped it from the body, and hung it over his shoulder. We moved on. The blood from the sword belt stained the back of his cloak but he didn't seem to mind. As we approached the gates, a guard in full plate armor stuck his head up from a boulder strewn ledge, over the gates. The ledge had a clear arrow shot of the approach and he could have picked us off any time over the last fifty meters. "I got orders," he said."Nobody gets in." He spoke in the dwarven toungue which I have a little trouble with still could understand. Kero unslung that bloody belt and displayed it like a muskrat pelt. "Gotta gift for you," he answered. "If you'll open the gate, I'll toss this up to you." What was funny was that I could see that the dwarf was hooked. He liked the idea that we had been killing orcs and he also liked the idea of prying the gems out of the belt. It made us sorta double, good guys. I could see that he was seriously considering cracking the gate. Then a clatter of booted feet behind us changed his mind for him. Up onto the road charged a herd of orcs... must have been six or seven of them, all screaming and waving those stupid, crooked swords that is all the goblins seem to know how to make. "Aw shit!" Kero threw the belt at the dwarf, jerked out his sword and we got ready take some boar-faces to glory with us. Meanwhile, the dwarf caught the belt and tossed a big thick rope over the edge to us. Not being a particularly slow child, I stuffed my sword back into the sheath and started up the rope. It got harder with Kero climbing after me as it jerked and swung all over but I figured asking Kero to stay down there and steady it for me was out of the question. About then the biggest dwarf I have ever seen pulled the rope up with us on it and with almost no effort threw me over the top. Without breaking stride, be did the same with Kero. Talk about your basic brute strength... The orcs milled around at the base of the cliff and yelled rude things until the dwarves poured some boiling oil on them after which they yelped a lot and ran away. I gave the giant dwarf my best smile and climbed down the ladder to where I could see doors going into the mountain. We were in. I could hardly believe the halls of Erebor. The passages didn't seem to be built so much as hewn from the stone of the mountain, all smooth polished surfaces and perfect corners. The only place I could see any wear was on the floors and who knows how many years it took to wear a path in solid granite. Kero seemed to know where he was going. After several twists and turns, he halted next to a door in what appeared to be a dining hall with some dwarves eating at tables. The smell of cooking reminded me that it had been just after dawn since I had eaten. Kerosion waited until one of the dwarves was telling a story that seemed to have everybody's attention. Although I couldn't hear it, the punchline must have been hilarious as it broke up the whole table. Before they recovered, Kero nodded to me and we slipped through the door. The first thing that caught my eye was a throne approximately the size of a house, against the far wall. The second thing that I saw was an axe on the throne. It was beautiful. It glinted in the dim room with a light of it's own. The handle was carved and inlaid with runes, as was the blade which also had a giant ruby mounted in it. The gem gave off a faint, red glow. Without being aware of it, I was drawn to it and I climbed thrown to get it. I remember hearing Kero shouting at me not to touch it up but it was too late and then all hell broke loose! Suddenly I was going head to head with a couple of very- proficient warriors that seemed to come out of nowhere and the next thing I remember clearly was laying on the floor in the now deserted dining room. I was tired, bleeding from several large wounds and Kero was trying to pour some wine from bottle into my mouth while I mostly tried not to choke. He wearing a wide grin and had that damned big axe strapped across his back which was my first clue that we must have won the fight. It was a hell of a scrap! We hiked back down to the campsite beside the bridge and spent the evening resting up, drinking wine and telling each other what bad asses we were. When the sun came up the next morning I woke with a headache and pouch that I had never seen before with 50 gold in it but Kero had moved on. That was how I met Kerosion, there in the woods next to the bridge in the shadow of the lonely mountain.