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Chapter Three: Tavern

The group had stopped for the night in a nice little plains area that was just about a day or two's walk from Dale. Turin's eyes scanned for any sign of a cave or outlook they could stay in.

Alassien chuckled from behind him. "Oh, my dear Elf, we've made you our scout, have we?" He grinned a bit. "It's safe near Dale, we can stay out in the open."

"Oh." The younger Elf blushed, setting his pack down on the grassy ground. The entire group set their things down, forming a circle around where Alassien was putting firewood. It didn't take him long to spark a fire in the noticeably drier weather than the night in the rain near Rohan.

"Story time?" Remme mumbled tiredly as he rested his head on the shoulder of the dwarf to his right. Khumen grumbled, but to everyone's amazement, made no move to push him away.

"Who would you like to tell the story, child?" Rialle teased lightly as she stretched her legs out, her hands dangling near the fire to get warm.

Remme smiled deliriously and pointed at Alassien. The elf just sighed and rubbed his fingers together. "I guess you all should know what we're doing exactly, right? Even if I don't know it all myself."

It appears everyone sat up a little bit more. They all knew the general tale: Melkor was prophecized to come back from the dead. How, no one knew exactly. He had supporters in Middle-Earth, and they had killed one, the shapeshifter in Minas Tirith. It seemed, however, that Alassien knew more than the rest of them.

"Melkor is dead, everyone knows that for sure." Alassien began, his cloak huddled around him. "But he was supposed to come back to life, or that's as far as the prophecy says. He is part of it, but someone has to let him in on the mortal side. His five closest lieutenants are the only ones who know how to get there. The shapeshifter was one of the five. If we can track down the other four, the world is saved."

"Do we know who they are?" Turin asked curiously, stretching out, his head resting on his pack.

"We know two of the remaining four," Alassien clarified. "One is of each race, or so it's said. Barur the Dwarf is one. He's incredibly powerful and has been spotted multiple times near Moria. It's impossible to locate him unless you're trying very carefully. Another is an Orc by the name of Golag. He's the leader of a band of Orcs and mercenaries alike. The Elf and the Human, we do not know."

Turin sighed deeply, scrubbing his eyes with his hands. "How do we find any of them? It appears we don't have a lead on any of them."

"Without a wizard, which we've been without for years now, I can't think up a way," Alassien took a breath. "Without them revealing themselves."

The group sat in silence. Khumen was staring into the flames, illuminating his nearly coal-like eyes. Remme was leaning up against him, finding the sturdy dwarf a natural pillar to lean on. Rialle's eyes were closed, deep in thought. Turin was quietly picking at the ground with a stick he'd found.

"What about the High Elves?" Rialle asked.

"Yeah!" Turin exclaimed, snapping his fingers. "They have nearly infinite knowledge as well, surely they could give us something that could help us locate them."

Khumen looked at the two of them as though they were mad. "You do know the three High Elves, don't you? The first is Himladir, the High King of the Elves. They say he's one of two to live in Rivendell these days, and he's intelligent, but half insane. The second is the Elvenking of Greenwood, but he's secluded and rarely steps out of his forest. The third is the lady in Lorien, who could be an asset to us, I suppose."

"Not Lorien," Alassien said immediately, his expression guarded.

"What?" Remme protested, looking at him. "He just said that's our best bet, and you say we shouldn't go visit the non-recluse non-insane one of the bunch?"

Alassien nervously gripped the hilt of his sword that was on his belt. For the first time, he looked cagey, unwilling to answer. He seemed to feel the weight of the eyes on him. "Fine." He sighed. "We can't go to Lorien because she hated it when I left. She won't let me back in."

"Alright…" Turin said carefully, sidestepping the giant question everyone had in their minds. "What about this High King guy, surely he knows more than the Elvenking."

"Yeah," Remme replied, his sleepy eyes concentrating on the fire now as well. "Who was this other guy who lived in Rivendell? His assistant, was it? Lover? God, I'm tired."

"Assistant, I believe. A friend," Rialle said. "I can't remember his name now, I swear I learned it."

While they'd been talking, Turin's face had gone white, and his eyes were as big as dinner plates in the fanciest of the Dwarven halls. It took the rest of them a while to notice the state of fright he appeared to be in. When Rialle finally noticed it, she chuckled. "Remme touch you again?" She joked.

"No," Turin said swiftly. "I just know the name."

Alassien sighed. Rialle was interested. "Let's hear it."

"Alassien," Turin turned to him.

The elder elf had the grace to turn away. Everyone else sort of watched him as he seemed to grapple with the idea of everyone else knowing. They stayed quiet while Alassien formed words to say.

"Everyone has a past occupation," Alassien said with a hint of a smile. "Yes, I worked alongside the High King Himaldir. Did in fact, right before this."

"So, you should go ask him if he can help!" Turin said joyfully. "We have an in already."

Alassien frowned, his hands working on smoothing out the tunic he was wearing. "I'm not sure he'll want to see me much either."

The rest of the group sighed, twisting over to sit down and prepare to go to sleep. It was going to be a long road to Dale, or at least it appeared that way. While everyone hunkered down in their cloaks and coats, they appeared to neglect to see that someone had followed them from Gondor…

Perched high on a rock overlooking the plain where the small group rested, a man clutched a sword. He had been days behind them for a while, attempting to catch up to the rest of the group. He'd seen them when they left Minas Tirith and had decided to pursue them. As he crept down the rocks, he missed his footing on a loose collection of rocks partway down. Cordred cursed as he began to tumble, beginning to glide down the hill with his back pressed against the rocks. It hurt like hell, with some pebbles scratching and tearing at his clothes.

The first to awaken was Alassien, his ears hearing something beginning to crash down upon them from above. When he looked up, he saw a man with a huge sword in his hands. "Ambush!" Alassien cried, grabbing his sword from his waist and pulling it from its sheath.

Before he knew it, the man was upon them. Because of the dark cloak the man wore, the symbol of the White Tree was hidden beneath it. Alassien's sword slammed down in an arc, catching Cordred off guard.

Driven by a desire to protect himself, the guard's sword slammed back at Alassien, but the quick-footed elf danced out of the way. The rest of the camp was slow to get up, only Rialle on her feet already. The elf and man grappled, their swords clinging away, useless, into the dirt beside them. The muscular man seemed to have the advantage at first, Alassien beneath him and fighting from below. However, Elvish strength shouldn't be ignored, for the elf shoved him off as easily as a blanket after a night's rest.

"Wait!" Turin cried from behind them. The rest of them whipped around to see what he was on about, and they all began to pace backwards. A group of men, all wearing strange-looking clothing, stood before them.

"Bandits," Remme said, grabbing a dagger that Khumen had passed to him.

Although likely smarter than the Orcs they had come across, this group of men had considerably less armor. "Pass over the valuables," The man in front said, holding out his hand.

Rialle had retrieved Alassien and Cordred's swords, pressing them into their hands. "Not to fight each other," Rialle said in a strict voice. "For them." She gestured at them with her head.

Alassien didn't have to be told twice, sprinting at the group with his sword raised. Just before his attack, three arrows pierced a few of the men near him, sent flying by Turin's bow. Khumen and Cordred ran in after the elf, Rialle wielding a shortsword and dashing in behind them. Remme nervously stayed near Turin, not a fighter in the slightest sense of the word.

The bandits surely weren't prepared enough for the attack, the small group easily overwhelming the mediocre swordsmen that had been sent to harry them. Only Cordred and Khumen had small slashes, having been fighting closer to the men they had been tasked with taking down.

Alassien's sharp blue eyes turned to Cordred immediately once the fighting was over. He pointed his blade at the throat of the man. "Who are you?" He said coldly. "Why are you here?"

The Gondorian soldier's face turned into a sneer, staring down the elf. "I'm here to help you, idiot."

"Alassien," Remme's voice came from beside him, tugging at his shirt sleeve. "He says he's trying to help."

The elder elf put down his sword and muttered an order to Remme, who nodded. The group began packing up, and Remme approached the new man. Cordred was standing off to the side, away from the group by a little way. "Why are you here?" Remme asked curiously, walking with him on the road to Dale.

"What are you?" Cordred replied to him, standing a half foot taller than the slimmer man. "The Elf's courtesan or his slave?"

Remme didn't even blanch, used to that sort of treatment from soldier-types. "I'm just curious." He put his thumbs in his pockets as they walked. "If you're coming with us, it's best to have an ally or two within the group. You've already made an enemy of Alassien, and I don't think Rialle thinks much of you either."

"Fine," Cordred said. "If you must know, I'm trying to help kill Melkor's servants. I overheard them talking to you at the brothel, and I knew that it was my destiny to come along. Even if it meant dealing with stuffy Elves and man whores."

Remme shrugged a little bit. "Well, that's what you've got. Plus, a Dwarf and more elves. I think you'll grow to rather like everyone."

Besides pleasant conversation between Cordred and Khumen, the talking was mostly reserved for those that were in the original grouping. Turin was walking by himself, as he usually did, enjoying the sights, sounds, and smells that he could find along the way. He was smiling, putting his face into different flowers to try and smell them. Cordred and Rialle were amused, slight smiles creeping onto their features at his antics.

The city of Dale laid ahead of them before too long. The city, proud and reinhabited since the dragon's fire had taken the first city of Dale down with it. Kites hung in the air, traveling merchants crowded the city's streets, and it seemed the whole down was bursting with a happy energy that was unrivalled in this part of the world. It took little convincing to get them inside the city limits.

"We need to track down anyone who may know of this Silmaril," Alassien looked at the group. "Is there anyone you know, Remme, that could lead us there?"

He looked regretful. "Unfortunately, not." Remme's eyes glittered with a realization, however. "Though there is someone who owes me a favor…"

"There's a tavern down in the city center," Khumen explained. "Remme can go with a few others to get this person, and the rest of us can head down there to begin piecing together a plan for the future. Right?"

"I can go alone," Remme protested. "She may not like seeing that many visitors. Besides, I know this city better than any of you. I'll be able to find you guys."

Alassien shared a look with Khumen, unsure if they could trust their new companion, particularly in a place that he knew better than them. But they each gave a slow nod. "Alright…" They said, leaving Remme to run off after his friend.

Through the cobbled streets he went, his feet flying as he ran. He bumped into merchants, cascaded down slick hills, and nearly stepped on a bird that was low to the ground. "Sorry!" He exclaimed each time as he raced towards his destination.

He knocked eagerly on the door, a bright smile on his features. The door opened slowly, a woman coming to the door. "Addiel!" Remme grinned brightly as the woman frowned deeply.

"Remme," She replied uneasily, folding her arms across her chest. "Wh-what are you doing here? I thought you were going south for a while. I didn't expect you to be back…so soon."

"I ran into a bit of trouble," Remme admitted, running a hand through his curly dark hair. "And I'm going to need to cash that debt you owe me."

Addiel was even shorter than Remme, taking on nearly a boyish appearance with the long legs, flat chest, and bright eyes. Her hair was wild and untamed, in curly mess that she nearly never sorted out. "A-already?" She said uncertainly. "I-I don't know. What is it?"

"An adventure," Remme shrugged. "I don't understand half of it, but we could use someone like you…with your abilities, you know."

Addiel frowned darkly. "I don't like the sound of that," She rubbed her foot against the frame of the door indignantly. "But I do owe you…for everything you did for me."

"Come on," Remme smiled at her, gesturing. "It'll be fun. Besides, we're only tracking down like four people, so it shouldn't be that bad, should it?"

Down at the tavern, it was approaching evening time. People had packed into their seats, for they were lucky that there was going to be a bit of entertainment with their meal. The tables were small, only allowing for a few to sit at each one. Cordred and Khumen packed into a table together, while Alassien, Rialle and Turin went into the other.

The lights were turned down low, a spotlight of sorts on a segment of the floor ahead of them. A man with copper hair was standing with a piece of parchment in his hands. "Hello everyone," His voice boomed. "I am proud to present tonight's entertainment as your innkeeper!" There was polite clapping and a bit of grumbling. "We have some special company tonight from our friends in Erebor. Prince Thrael, we are glad to have you."

A grinning dwarf was at the other end of the tavern, waving to the crowd. He had braided blonde locks, wild and unruly as well. Not the crown prince, or the King, Alassien remembered as he looked at him. But a known fighter…Alassien got to his feet quietly, slinking to the back of the room to watch.

"And now, our main event, our singing minstrel!"

The man that was before the had light blonde hair, rather uncharacteristic of those in Dale, who were known to have more darker colors. He was slim, wearing bright blues and greens. When he began to sing, it was apparent that he was good at his job. Everyone paid close attention, apart from Alassien who slid into the booth next to the prince from Erebor.

"An Elf, in Dale," Thrael began, his voice slurred from what seemed like excessive alcohol consumption. "Travelling with two other Elves, a Dwarf, and a Man. Why, it might seem like you're up to something."

"I may be," Alassien said neutrally as he glanced at the smaller dwarf. "Would you care to join us? I know the prince of the Lonely Mountain has been rumored to be a fearsome warrior with an axe. We could use some of that with us."

Thrael busted out into a laugh, hitting his drink against the table loudly, startling everyone else in the tavern, who had been paying close attention to the singer. "An Elf asking for help from me? Why, I couldn't turn down that! Sure!" His voice boomed, overpowering the singer. Some shot them looks, but most ignored it for they all had fond memories of the Dwarves of Erebor.

"Just one second, though." Thrael got up onto the tabletop and pointed a finger at the minstrel. "You!" His voice boomed. "Come here." He jumped, landing nearly next to the startled minstrel, whose instrument had nearly gotten in the way.

Alassien was confused, watching in horror as Thrael grabbed him by the shirt collar and tugged him out of the room. The tavern was quiet, people starting to sip their drinks as the innkeeper blustered into the microphone. "Uh hum…must've had a bit too much to drink." He let out a nervous chuckle.

Alassien had thought the same, but as he replayed the conversation in his mind, it hadn't seemed like a decision made strictly in the moment. He carefully followed down the hallway that the dwarf had taken the minstrel into. A door was open ahead on the right, angry shouting coming from it.

Alassien carefully edged into the room, the slim minstrel tied to a chair with some rope. Thrael was sitting up on a counter ahead of him, his feet propped up. "So, Leon, would you like to tell me where the Silmaril went, or would you like to play dumb today?"

Alassien's interest piqued, staying near the doorway as he listened.

The man frowned. "I don't know where it went, you idiot." He tossed his hair back. "I just know that the one that was here in Dale was in the possession of a Mrs. Euphemia Glari, a wealthy businesswoman from town. However, I know she and her husband work as merchants, particularly with the Woodland Realm. If she's not in Dale, she's probably somewhere between here and there."

"Likely story," Thrael snorted.

Alassien came fully into view, his crimson hair tied back loosely behind him. "I know you don't know me," He began, staring at the man who was strapped to the chair. "But if you could lead us to her, that would work wonderfully for us."

"I don't see why we need him, Elf," Thrael snarled at him. "He's a no-good con man, we don't need him on this thing."

Alassien shrugged off his concerns, stepping out of the line of fire. His blue eyes concentrated on the minstrel. "Could you do that? Lead us to her?"

"Yeah, I suppose," The man shrugged nonchalantly. "Wouldn't be too hard, I mean, she's either here or there, it's not exactly a hard search."

Alassien untied him. "Thank you," Leon said cheerfully as he hopped up, taking pains to ignore the Dwarven prince's burning eyes as they headed back to the rest of the group, who was assembled at the tavern. With one look from Alassien, the rest followed them out into the street. As they were leaving the tavern, Remme and Addiel bumped straight into them.

"Good luck?" Remme grinned as he playfully rubbed his hand down Turin's chest. The elf blushed and Remme laughed loudly, the group assembling outside in a circle.

"What now? We're being torn in two directions," Rialle said, having been caught up by Alassien. "We can't just split, it'll be hard for us to know what's going on with the other group, if they're succeeding or even still alive."

"We have to, don't we?" Khumen argued. "The High King has too much valuable information to give up, and he might even be a target. I say we split in two, one group going for the Elvenking and the other for the High King."

"Here's how we do it," Alassien said, grabbing a bit of parchment and beginning to write names down with a quill out of his pocket. "Turin and Rialle will go to the Woodland Realm, being two elves, they will help get you in. I meanwhile, will lead the other group to Rivendell, along with Remme. Khumen, you're in charge of the group to the Woodland Realm."

By the time Alassien was done speaking, everyone knew where they were going. Alassien, Remme, Cordred and Addiel to Rivendell, and Khumen, Turin, Rialle, Leon and Thrael to the Woodland Realm. Thrael passed several coins to Alassien, helping pay for their way.

"We meet in precisely six months," Alassien said to Khumen, embracing him. "In Moria. Not a day later. If the other group doesn't show up within four days, you must assume they have failed."

"We won't fail," Khumen's eyes glittered.

"I hope not." Alassien returned.

A/N: Yes, I'm breaking the group in 2 :D The group was getting so big, to manage it would be hard as one whole thing. Besides, I've got great stuff planned for both ones. I'm sorry I've been unable to post a new chapter, I've had about half this thing done for about two weeks, but I got sick with mono and wasn't able to continue. However, a very well-timed snow day aided me.

I am closing submissions from new submitters on Monday at Noon Central Time. People who have already submitted a character and if I want another from you at a later date, I will keep that open. I am not going to be harsh and say if you want to join later, you can't, but it will be a significantly higher threshold than it is now. If your character hasn't been introduced (Balmod and Rosemary, I believe are the only 2), they are still coming. Thank you! Let me know what you thought/what you want to see/what you look forward to!