I apologise for the tardiness of this update; I hope you enjoy it.
The stone walls of the Dwarf hold stretched high into shadows as Jeroihan looked around absently, rooting through his pockets as he did so. He had acquired a pipe and leaf in Durin's Hall when the Men had arrived and had spent most of his time in the stone halls, either alone or with Ruby. The Dwarves were notoriously stubborn and Jeroihan had instructed the Rangers to relax now that they had time in abundance. He withdrew the pipe and some flint, lighting the leaf with a quick strike and turning on his heel to make for the library. Dwarven holds usually held tomes where the holds of Men did not, and while Jeroihan's Khuzdul was not as sharp as it once was, he understood enough of the words to make a rough translation of the works he read. He occasionally met Harrisil within the great library, and he wondered if he'd run into the man again. A Dwarf grabbed his wrist suddenly, breaking his reverie. "Come Longshanks, something afoot." Jeroihan sighed and blew out the smouldering pipe, following the Dwarf's jog with a swift walk. The Dwarf led him through many cramped tunnels until they arrived in another large stone hall where a gathering of Dwarves met Jeroihan. One stepped forward and spoke in a gruff tone "I am Farin, son of Gorin. And I am told you speak for the Rangers that came here with the rest of the Men-Folk." Jeroihan nodded and replied solemnly "I am Jeroihan, son of ancient Númenor. And aye, the Rangers answer to me, master Dwarf. I presume you have a favour to ask of us then." Farin nodded curtly and spoke again, gesturing for a map to be brought forward. "The Dwarves of these Iron Hills cannot speak for our entire peoples, so your emissaries will be taken to Erebor, or the Lonely Mountain in your tongue. Our halls will be weakened while they are escorted there, so you must join us in routing the Orcs that infest these hills." Farin spat the word Orc out like poison before continuing. "Besides, I was raised with tales of Dunedain fighting skill and I want to see it with my own two eyes before I return to the stone." Jeroihan nodded and studied the large map, paying attention to the marked positions of the Orcs. He noticed a tight ravine in close proximity to several large Orc bands. "You and your warriors will form a shield wall here, while my companions and I will lead all the Orcs in the area to that spot. Once there, we will wipe them from the face of this world." Farin smiled and nodded, shouting for the Dwarves to ready themselves while Jeroihan left in search of the Rangers and Ruby.
Jeroihan leant against a cold stone pillar with his pipe in hand as he waited for Ruby to emerge from the cavernous hold. A servant had promised to find her for him and he had sent Calathorn to rouse the rest of the Rangers at the main gate. Light footsteps caught his attention and he looked up to see Ruby hurrying towards him. He smiled and drew her into a gentle embrace, his brow furrowing as he felt a tension in her. He pulled back and saw disquiet in her eyes. "What is it?" His question provoked a strained reply. "There's talk of a battle coming up. I don't want you to go." Jeroihan scoffed a response. "It's hardly going to be a battle. It'll be a killing of a few Orcs and then I'll be back, safe and sound. I promise." Ruby relaxed a little and ventured a brief smile, reaching up on the balls of her feet to plant a kiss on his cheek. "I'll hold you to that, Ranger." A little of her spirit returned as she quickly left to preform her duties. Jeroihan grinned and inhaled a large breath through the pipe. He watched the small cloud of smoke form as he exhaled, before he paced towards the main gate to wait for his companions to muster.
"Orcs. Three hundred paces south-west." Hagrabad pointed in the direction of the fire and the primitive camps that housed their quarries. Jeroihan nodded and signalled for bows to be drawn. To him, the low screech of the strings being pulled back was almost deafening, but he knew there was no possibility of the Orcs hearing. He nodded slowly, and the Rangers crept forward like ghosts through the dense bushes towards the Orcs. At two hundred paces, the Rangers began to take careful aim. At one hundred paces, they stopped and fired. Seven Orcs dropped and a cacophonous cry tore its way from a thousand Orc throats. The Rangers fired again and began to slink away, firing as they went. Eventually the Orcs pinpointed the direction of the deadly arrows and hastily grabbed crude weapons and raced after the unseen threat. The Rangers sheathed their bows and ran towards the ravine where the three hundred dwarf warriors waited with grim faces and bared axes. "Your turn, master Dwarf. Don't worry, this is the easy part." Jeroihan grinned at Farin, who chuckled a reply "Good job, laddie. I'll be sure to leave some Orcs for you." Jeroihan raised an eyebrow. "Is that so? I'll wager more Orcs fall by my hand than yours by the end of the day." Farin's booming laughter echoed across the tight ravine. "A bet it is then. Here they come." The horde of Orcs began to funnel into the narrow battlefield and thundered towards the dwarf shield wall. The impact of the charge echoed loudly, but the dwarves held and struck back with furious retribution. The sound of battle resounded in Jeroihan's ears as he continued to fire arrows into the roiling mass of Orcs, counting the number of kills in his head. He heard Farin shout from across the battle. "I have six so far laddie! Beat that, Man-ling!" Jeroihan smiled and shouted back, without breaking his rate of fire. "I have eleven. You're falling behind Farin." Farin didn't reply, but Jeroihan heard a deep bellow and knew Farin had charged into the fray, eager to raise his tally. Jeroihan rolled his eyes and drew his sword, hacking his way towards the dwarf, finding Farin surrounding by misshapen corpses. "Fourteen now Longshanks!" Jeroihan dispatched a pair of Orcs with a couple of precise blows and stepped in line next to the dwarf. "Good, you're only five behind now." The Man and the Dwarf grinned at each other and swung at the closest Orcs, each determined to outdo the other before the battle was over.
The march back to the Iron Hills hall was filled with boisterous mirth and cheering from both Dwarf and Ranger. Jeroihan had beaten Farin by thirty-two kills to twenty-six, however the Dwarf's spirit was un-dampened and he had sworn to beat him next time. An elderly Dwarf was waiting by the main gate and Farin strolled over to converse. Jeroihan spied on the conversation, concern marring his features as Farin's voice lowered to a more serious tone and he cursed his ignorance of the Dwarfish tongue. Farin caught his gaze and excused himself, walking over as he toyed with his beard. "It seems we have a problem laddie." Farin shouted for the Dwarves to remain at the gate before returning to Jeroihan. "So, what's the problem?" Jeroihan tensed as he awaited the Dwarf's reply. Farin sighed and spoke "Your Gondor nobles never arrived at Erebor. We have scouts prowling the hills looking for them, but I reckon we need a Ranger for this." Jeroihan swore loudly, causing those present to stare in his direction. The Rangers gathered around him, Calathorn asking "What's going on? What's happened?" Jeroihan took a while to answer, mind paralysed with worry. Ruby had been travelling with the nobles. His clear tone masked his inner turmoil as he answered "It seems the fools from Gondor are in a spot of bother. And we have to go fetch them. Don't get comfortable, we're moving out again."