The City of Dale, One Day After the Council of Elrond
The midnight blue banners of Dale blew lightly, a gentle breeze causing them to ripple and sway. The early morning mist was slowly fading away as the sun rose into the dawn sky. Beneath the bright banners, the town was already alive and full of busy people going about their everyday business. Shouts of traders selling their wares and the laughs of playing children could be heard wafting through the air, and the scent of freshly cooked food followed them.
Dale had once been a great city, a hub of trade and commerce. But then the vile dragon, Smaug, had come in a storm of fire and ash, and he had left the city a smoldering ruin. When Smaug was finally defeated, the hero who had killed him, Bard, returned to Dale and set about restoring it to its former glory. Now, nearly sixty years later, it was once more a great city. The dwarves of Erebor had been more than eager to help, and it was largely because of them that the city was in its current state of prosperity.
Bard's grandson, Brand, now ruled the city with a kind hand and the correcting rod of justice. While his people carried on with their lives, he was left to plan against the coming storm. Other than his advisor, Kell, he was the sole defender of Dale. Such a position was a heavy burden for him, and he was desperate for help. And so it was that he and several of the leaders of Erebor had come together in Brand's throne room, to discuss recent events.
"Welcome to Dale, King Dain and company!" Kell said as the dwarves entered. Kell moved to take his place at the seat beside Brand, a heavy limp slowing his progress. He had been maimed in a bandit raid, and although he managed to defeat them he had been permanently crippled. But despite this, he still remained Brand's strongest supporter, as well as his closest friend.
"King Brand is honored by your presence," He said as he sat down slowly. "I apologize for the seeming lack of respect that I may be conveying by sitting down, my liege," He whispered as he turned apologetically to Brand before wincing slightly.
"Think nothing of it, my friend. Rest your leg, standing isn't good for it," Brand said with a smile. He then turned to King Dain, who had already taken a seat at the opposite side of the table along with his entourage.
"Ah, lad, it's been too long!" Dain said with a laugh as he took a swig of ale. He pursed his lips in satisfaction, clearly enjoying the drink. "We should do this more often!"
Brand nodded slowly, knowing that it would be unwise to rush past pleasantries... Especially with someone as short-tempered as Dain. "I agree! A toast! To King Dain, and to continued peace between our people!"
As one the group raised their mugs in the air and downed their drinks. Dain let out a hearty laugh and slammed his mug onto the table.
"Aye! To peace! And to the people of Dale!" He exclaimed before finishing off his mug. When he had finished his face grew serious. "Now, I know you didn't invite me and my friends here for merely a social gatherin', so let's be on to business!"
Brand raised an eyebrow in surprise. He hadn't expected Dain to be so open. But although he hadn't expected it, he definitely didn't object. The sooner they discussed matters, the better.
"I wished to discuss the threat of Mordor," Brand said slowly. The dwarves leaned forward, and one of them, a burly warrior named Dwalin, spoke up in a hushed voice.
"Aye, and right you were to bring it up," He whispered. "Strange things be afoot around the Mountain... Things that'll effect your people as well. The ravens, for one thing. Flocks the size of which no dwarf has seen before have been flying to and fro from the Mountain. And these ravens are no friends of ours."
"Spies, many of us think 'em," Another dwarf added.
"And what makes you think that?" Kell asked skeptically.
"They fly everywhere!" Dain exclaimed. "Even into the armories. I think they're servants of Sauron, and they're gathering information for 'im!"
Brand scratched his dark beard thoughtfully. He too had seen large flocks of birds over Dale, but until now he had thought nothing of them.
"What's more," Dwalin began again. "Our sentries caught sight of goblins on the northern slopes. Only a few of 'em, but where one goblin is there's bound to be more."
Just then a guard entered the room. He quickly strode straight to Brand and saluted.
"M'lord, the messenger of Sauron has returned. He demands parley with the dwarves."
Dain stood quickly from his seat, his hand on his axe. "I didn't expect the bugger to come back so soon! I'd love to give him a wallopin' right here and now!"
Brand shook his head. "No, try to delay him for as long as possible. The longer it takes for him to return to his master the more time we'll have to prepare. If we kill him they'll know immediately."
"Ach, fine," the fiery dwarf king said with disdain. "I'll go "parley" with 'im then."
As the guards opened the doors of the keep, Brand's eyes immediately landed upon the entourage of heavily armored soldiers that stood in the courtyard. Ah, so the messenger didn't come unprotected this time, he thought to himself. The soldiers wore the distinctive bronze armor of Easterling warriors, and their shields were broad and polished.
At their head were three riders. One was the messenger, known as the Mouth of Sauron. The second was the strange dark-haired woman that had accompanied the Mouth the last time he had come to the Mountain. The final rider was one that Brand had not seen before, but his very being evoked dread. He was cloaked in black, and no features could be made out under his dark hood. A silver helm similar to those worn by the Easterling warriors sat atop his head, and he wore cruel iron gauntlets. It was he who spoke first, to the surprise of all present.
"You were given a chance to side with Lord Sauron the Great. That chance is now gone, you shall get no other. We have come to warn you; Your end is near. Prepare now for eternity, for you shall soon see the face of death." The rider's very voice was cold as ice, and a chill wind seemed to come from the East as he spoke. Brand felt as though his heart had been frozen, and when he reached for his chest he realized that his hand was cold to the touch.
As the rider finished, the woman began to speak. "Do not think that we are merciless. Thrice did we give you a chance to join us willingly, and thrice we were turned away at your gates. No longer. There shall be no dawn for dwarves, nor shall there be a dawn for the men of Dale. You had your chance, and you squandered it."
"Thou hast made powerful enemies, kings Dain and Brand," The Mouth said mockingly. "Thou hast forsaken your people for thine own selfish ambitions. Know that thou couldst have ended this differently."
As he finished the Easterlings stood at attention, and the dark cloaked rider led them away. The Mouth turned back one last time, his horrid mouth turned up in an evil grin. "The end is coming... Death is nigh."