Well, this is my first story here in FF. Hope you guys like it.
"Baruk khazad! Khazad ai-menu!" The deep and powerful battlecry of the Dwarves roared through Erebor. The dwarves celebrated. It was a merry and eventful night, as the son of the King under the Mountain, Nain III Steelhand. Some thought that this could be the birth of Durin the Last. At the time of the battle of Azalzunibar, it was prophesised that he would reclaim Khazad-dûm. Under the reign of Thorin III, mithril mining operations had been started, yet there wasn't a permanent settlement in Khazad-dûm.
The king rejoiced, as he held the boy in his arms. He looked at the mother of the boy, and his face became grim. While his kid had been born, the love of his life, died during the process. Nain was already quite old, and this was a hard blow for him, yet he would live, until his son could succeed him, or at least, until he could roam the world. His beard had grown long, with the woman he loved, but she was gone, and he would follow her soon. Dair, an old friend of his, who had fought many dragons, and had uncountable scars, stood beside him. He whispered a few words in Khuzdul to the king. "Khuzd tada ma ublûri zuzna, ma furukhî sakh ghelekh."
Timeskip a decade or so. Our young heir is a curious little dwarf, who tends to get in trouble.
"Son? Where are you?" Shouted the king, looking for him frantically. It was Durin's Day, and a party to celebrate this special day for the Longbeards. His uncle, Dair, was also looking for him. Dair headed for one of the armories, as quite a few times he had found the little one there, trying to swing the heavy swords, or trying a helmet. As expected, Dair found his nephew, sitting, and with a puzzled look, trying to open a sealed barrel that (he thought) contained arrows. He looked up to his uncle. "I want to open this barrel. It seems to have arrows!" Dair just laughed at this. While the royal feast was on Durin's Day, the dwarves on Erebor celebrated for the whole week, and it seemed that some of the people in charge of the armory had brought a barrel of ale, to celebrate. He crouched, and patted the kid on the head. "That, is a barrel of ale. I mean, you might not have read that it says "Ghureg", but it's got a siphon. Barrels that contain arrows don't have siphons. Now, your father is very worried about you, so, off you go. There is a feast you must attend." Said Dair, standing up,and then walking towards the door. The heir to the throne felt quite embarrassed, mistaking a barrel of ale, for one of arrows. He ran up to Dair, and asked. "You won't tell anybody of this, right?" Dair laughed at the question. "Sugùl ma." Dair looked concerned as the boy ran, in direction to his father. Then, the old warrior thought. "Why the hell would you store arrows in a barrel?" Dair thought about the prophecy about Durin. This kid was showing some of his traits.
Dwarven Vocabulary:
Khuzd tada ma ublûri zuzna, ma furukhî sakh ghelekh.= A dwarf that can't endure the bad, will not live to see the good.
Ghureg= Ale
Sugùl ma = Sure.