Born from Stone (A Thorin Oakenshield story)

The Forsaken Inn

It was a little more than a week later that Karunn's carriage stopped in front of tavern. Karunn alighted and looked at the swinging sign. Half of the letters were faded by the merciless passage of time.

"The Forsaken Inn."

She humphed pleased at the deteriorating state of Eilin's original abode, happy that she hadn't seen it in it's glory days. Apparently right now it was nothing more than a dirty brothel, a day's ride away from the village of Bree. A place where for the worst criminals of Middle Earth could get a cheap drink, a bed and maybe a prostitute. She looked at the dirty windows and saw several shadowy figures moving inside. Faint music was heard through the thick wooden panels. She wiped away the rain that was dripping from her elaborate hood. No one was outside to give him the care of her horses and she really didn't want to leave all her boxes unattended, but she had no choice. Ever since she dismissed her father's escort she had to handle things on her own. She found no problems on the road and most people she met were accommodating villagers that were coming and going from their work or the surrounding forests.

So now that she was on the doorsteps of what her family would have considered the lowest scum of the earth, apart from orcs, she hesitated. Her deep hatred about that stable bitch and that conceited King was enough to rekindle her courage. She tied the rope around the fence that surrounded the tavern and straightened her cape. She took a couple of steps and placed her hand on the handle. Then she stopped and felt her heart beating almost out of control. She didn't come all this way to back down, did she? She remembered Eilin flirting with the King with an audacity Karunn yearned to wipe out and then she remembered how much the King ridiculed her.

The need for revenge was too strong to be subdued by the fear of coming face to face with murderers, whores and drunkards. When she opened the door she was assaulted instantly by loud music that was completely untuned, a stench that made her gag and too many ugly faces all looking at her simultaneously. The stubbornness of her dwarven blood worked to her advantage. She entered as if she owned the place. When she reached the bar, the owner, a stout woman of grey hair leaned her elbow on the counter and grinned down at her. Most of her teeth were gone, and those that still stood were deteriorating.

"A dwarrowdam so far away from a major dwarven city? This is a rare sight," she cackled.

"Times are changing. Once dwarrowdams never travelled at all, now they feel secure enough in their strength to do it."

The woman raised her brow and looked at the drunken patrons, "she's a feisty one, ain't she?"

"Might be worth going through her once to see if the dwarfish blood is as hot as rumours say it is," an elderly man that smelled of piss said.

"If you can overlook the sideburns. I am not sure I am into that one," another patron cringed.

"You are not the one to choose. You smell so bad, even a sewer rat would have denied you to touch it," another one joined in.

Telling those fools that she was the niece of Dain, one of the butchers of Azanulbizar was tantalising, but she wanted no one to track her to this sleazy tavern. "I have relatives that know where I am and will come searching for me if I don't return soon. I am sure you don't want the wrath of several dwarven clans to fall onto your establishment," she addressed the matron, completely ignoring the two men.

The matron's eyes wavered and she looked at the men, "Shut up. We don't want trouble. Mess with yeh drinks and my girls or else I will remove yeh bowels through yer tonsils! We don't mess with dwarves, is that understood?"

The men flicked their shoulders and began bantering between themselves. A few other customers that seemed interested in the newcomer decided that it was best to mind their own business after the menacing stare of the matron fell on them. The music resumed and Karunn looked up at the seasoned woman.