The Company of the Whiskey Drinking Bear

Thorrs Journal post 3
Nightmares

After our encounter at the tower, my dreams were haunted by that damnable spider. Darkness is growing around us and I must overcome these nightmares before they take hold of me. I take heart in the fact that our dreams were once haunted by Smaug the Golden and we prevailed over that terror. This fellowship and this dwarf will find a way to crush the darkness and set things back to their rightful ways.

My armor, my mattock and this hard head of mine will persevere. No orc, no hobgoblin or even marsh dwellers will stand in my way. I will bring the nightmares to the dwellers of darkness and split their heads open. We must rise up and rescue Ankle Biter at all costs and these bloody bastards best pray that we are not too late…

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The Naming of Baldac
Sang by Elabrimborn

Elvish boat met Dwarven stair
Now in Shadow, Orcish lair
So battle did begin
Upon construct of Dwarven kin
Thorr’s maddock rang like thunder
Hobgoblin shield torn asunder
Elabrimborn with bow bent
Bladed trio Elven sent
Feathered bird finds its mate
Flying through cribiform plate
Crezbif falls as a rock
Now at peace upon the dock
Goblin spear all were beat
By the dance of wooly feet
Togo’s blade painted red
Forest goblin now is dead
Top of skull freed of head
Now upon our wooden stage
From a hovel violent rage
Sacred timber of the earth
Gave forth to violent birth
No time for idle contemplation
Origin of Morgoth’s abomination
Stench of buck, tusk of boar
Simian chest belches forth a roar
Veined eyes about to burst
Mortal blood quenches its thirst
Freakish limbs cast of lead
Jagged axe above his head
Aucbodh the Great Orc captain
Slayer of a hundred raftsmen
Baldac spied his Orcish quarry
Thirsty axe and seeking glory
Thus began furious charge
Leaping off Elven barge
Baldac in his open stance
Naked steel begins its dance
Striking blows of fables told
Ever valiant, always bold
With Orcish wound upon his chest
Spilling lifeblood from his breast
Weary on the Dwarven stair
Renews with power of the Bear
Fatal blows with every stroke
Melkor’s child, bent and broke
Final insult never said
Aucbodh’s body relieved of head

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The Taming of Tyulquin daughter of Shelob
Sang by Elabrimborn in the Feast Halls of King Thranduil

[[:thranduil | Elabrimborn]]The artifact of Theonor, the gem of red light
Had mysteriously disappeared from Elven sight
The Company of the Whiskey Drinking Bear hoped to deliver
Seeking the ancient treasure along the Forest River
Within a white gable, a wee hobbit fast asleep
Held the treasure in his hands, not making a peep
Togo and Elabrimborn crept as quiet as mice
Although became entrapped in Tyulquin’s device
For the Ungol had wove illusions in her silk
To trap King Thranduil, to feed her ilk
Her size massive, that of an Oliphaunt
Her stench so foul, the spawn of Ongoliant
Otbert spied his companions in her grasp
And threw forth a spear before anytime past
The javelin of hickory was so well sent
All present thought it was thrown by an Ent
Elabrimborn and Togo trapped in a ruined tower
As boulders fell upon them like a meteor shower
All around the party red eyes did gather
The spawn of Tyulquin began to slather
Then Togo of the Shire began to gasp
The Star of Theonor was within his grasp
At first the giant spider began to scoff
Until the hobbit held Naur Fuin aloft
Togo’s face enraged with hallowed light
Caused the ettercap to shriek with unholy fright
The jewel bathed her with searing red heat
She feared for her life, knowing she was beat
Finding her brood’s situation so dire
Again confronted by a folk of the Shire
Shared tales amongst spiders began to ring
Arachnid nightmares envisioned of Bilbo and Sting
Tyulquin’s and her filth, began to flee
To the cheers of the Wiskey Drinking Bear Company

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Rhyme of Lore of the Marsh Dwellers
Recalled by Elabrimborn at the Stairs of Girion

The Marsh Dwellers, Hobbit mothers say
Are thought to be myths to keep children at bay
They take small children who wander a stray
To their swamp treasure caves by night or day
They are clumsy and slow with clammy flesh
And plump Hobbit children are their favorite dish
Be it Wil-o-wisp or their eyes of fell light
Wise children run home at first sight
For they shamble so slow, they will never beat you
But if they do, with sharp claws, will eat you

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Elabrimborn in the audience of King Thranduil

“My Lord
I bring bad tidings, which you may be well aware of, orcs and wargs have come down from the Misty Mountains again, and invaded the Greenwood, the spiders have left their webs and two riders were seen coming up from the South. My company had direct contact with a man corrupted by men of Angmar to poison a mortal elder.

And what disturbs me the most is my own kin have been transformed into Wayward elves, favoring isolation over the aiding of other races.

What lessons did we learn from the Battle of Fives Armies that we soon forget and devolve into our old ways, of isolation, selfishness, and self preservation?

Are not we foolish to not join forces with the other races against the Shadow?
Yes, mortals they are, and easily corrupted. But history tells us they can accomplish great deeds. For was it not a man who slayed Smaug the Terrible, Elendil and Isildur who slayed Sauron in the War of the Last Alliance. And who was by their side to guide them? Our kin, Lord Elrond and King Gil-galad.

Should you not also be be by the side of these mortals to aid them My Great Lord King?
Lord Elrond advised Isildur to destroy Sauron’s ring, but left to his own ways, Isildur became corrupted by the Shadow and it destroyed him.

Was not Thorin Oakenshield “our guest”, and soon after became corrupted by the Shadow? And only through your aid and wisdom, My Lord, did the mortal King Under the Mountain, escape the Shadow before his death.

Mark my words, if we do not assist the other races, small folk and their leaders will become corrupted by the Shadow, leading to the deaths of many mortals and the corruption of nature itself.

Has not our own Greenwood changed its name to Mirkwood in the Third Age after falling under the Necromancer’s control? And our own people have fallen to the Shadow under Morgoth’s corruption, and became the very orcs that threaten now our Western border?

I beseech you My Lord, to aid the alien races, unite our kin in this endeavor, and allow me to be just one of your agents to the free folk, and spread your wisdom."

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Thorrs Journal post 2
To catch a thief

I must have overdone it that first night as I overslept and missed a part of our adventure. I was awoken by Elabrimborn and our journey led on the hunt for that scoundrel trader, Tindyn. Our suspicions were right. He had somehow poisoned our dear host, Legelaven the Ankle Biter and made off before dawn.

We gave a hastened chase from the Old Ford through Beorning lands. My traveling skills were at their best. These feet were swift and nimble through the forests. Not too bad for a dwarf of the Lonely Mountain. It reminded of the days when I would travel with my parents and siblings. We were always traveling to visit different cities and ruins.

I recall those forests south of those ancient ruins in the Ettenmoors. We traveled swiftly through those forests as there were a band orcs after us. We lost a few good people on that journey. Those bleedin orcs captured a wagon and made off with two of our best ponies before we could escape them. I remember my father going off after them with a vengeance. He caught up to them and made them pay with their lives.

Anyway, back to our adventure. We came upon that scoundrel’s trail near the home of Petra Dribble Cup. She was such a fiery woman. Oh, and she was so smitten with our Baldac. Lucky lad. I can’t believe that Tindyn would slay a bear in these parts. What a numskull he was. I’ll be surprised if Beorn doesn’t flay him alive for that one.

It was fortunate that thatEnnalda the Spear Maiden captured him. I’m not sure that he’d be alive if we got to him first. After killing that bear, Baldac would have taken his head before trying to find out about Anklebiter. At least Anklebiter is alive and I hope we can rescue her before something truly dark happens. The Spear Maiden is a strong woman. If she were a dwarf, I think I’d be smitten with her.

We’ve made our way through Mirkwood to intercept Anklebiter before she can do harm to anyone. The stench of that forest is unbelievable. How can any sane people live there. Elves, they are such a strange lot. Although it is good that we had Elabrimborn with us. I doubt we would have came unscathed through that wood.

I’m still a bit unnerved about that chicken thief creature that was being tracked by that headstrong Tarma. The sounds of that creature makes my skin crawl more than any elf. I’m a bit miffed that we couldn’t wreck those orcs. My mattock is always ready and willing to split the heads of orcs. Those elven bowmen sure do know how to let loose those arrows.

Can’t wait to catch up to to Anklebiter and whoever is behind all of this darkness.

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The Legend of Ungoliant
As her spawn crept West along the Old Forest Road

Then the Unlight of Ungoliant rose up even to the roots of the trees,
and Melkor sprang upon the mound;
and with his black spear he smote each Tree to its core,
wounded them deep, and their sap poured forth as it were their blood,
and was spilled upon the ground.
But Ungoliant sucked it up, and going then from Tree to Tree she set her black beak to their wounds, till they were drained;
and the poison of Death that was in her went into their tissues and withered them, root, branch, and leaf; and they died.
And still she thirsted, and going to the Wells of Varda she drank them dry;
but Ungoliant belched forth black vapours as she drank,
and swelled to a shape so vast and hideous that Melkor was afraid
Tolkien
Shared by Elabrimborn to his kin

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Gardening Song of the Brandybucks
As sang by Elabrimborn to Dodinas and Dinodas

Oh the ale we brew is bold
No wonder its color is gold
For the barley of our field
Each year grants us great yield
For we tend each kernel of grain
With the gentle touch of rain
Every hoe, clears a path
For each weed, fears our wrath
And allows the hops to climb
Throwing cones off every vine
To produce an ale so fine
That the Free Folk stand in line
At the Golden Perch Inn
Where celebration ain’t no sin
And you’ll never want to leave
For our ale flows all eve

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Rhyme of Lore of the Dapple Gray Mare
As sang by Elabrimborn to calm horses in the Anduin River

The Horse Lords all Dare
To view the Dapple Gray Mare
Her flanks are a sight
That mimic the dark of night
The stars on her thighs
Are brilliant to the eyes
All stallions pledge their love
To the horse mother above
For if you ever met her
You would not forget her

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The First log of Baldac

The first part of my travels with the company of the whiskey drinking bear were days I would never forget. As a Beorning I felt it was only proper to free a poor bear from his terrible fate as a dancing bear. I bravely single-handedly fought off the evil merchant and his goons through intimidation.

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