~-January, 3019-~

As I recuperate, I look about me. It appears as though I am on a section of track used for mining carts. Beneath me a deep abyss… black as the eyes of an Auroch bull. My luck however was not with me today, I heard a slight cracking noise as the support for the rail trestle started to give way. I ran as fast as I could to the opposite side, boards cracking beneath my feet as my boots hit them. I made it to the other side just as the trestle gave way completely, falling into the darkness bellow. I stood at the edge of the rocky ledge, listening for the rail to hit bottom. Above me, many more trestles crossed the chasm. Dust was so thick now I could not see the top of the large room. I look back at the chasm bellow me, holding my hand to my ear. Many minutes passed as I stood there, until a loud splash echoed from the shadowy depths. Pleased with the sound, I continued walking down the tunnel, humming a tune from back home.

The tunnel I followed seemed to narrow and twist through the stone as I continued. I eventually came to a tight room, the walls were made of solid quartz, it seemed to glow and reflect the light of my torch. After many more hours of wandering I came to a large room, the walls of the cave were streaked with yellow veins. Glorious gold! Its mine! The mother of all lodes is mine! I look for my axe at my waist… but it is gone. My axe! My poor pick-axe! After many minutes of grieving I pick myself up and begin collecting chunks of ore that had broken off from the vein, filling my packs to the brim.

With my packs full, I begin searching for an exit…

Two days later I manage to crawl from the cave, the sun is too bright for my eyes…  With my gold in my pack I head back to town to gather more supplies. While In town, the postman stops me and asks my name, I reply to him proudly “I am Droriin of the Lonely Mountain, and Marchwarden of Ennorath.” He then hands me a letter addressed to my name. I wonder who could possibly send me mail, and most importantly know I would be in ~this~ town.

I open my letter, which seems to be from Michael Delving, and it appears to be an invitation to visit the Pathfinders for dinner at their home in the Shire. Hopeful for a good meal, I continue reading… only to find that the Dinner would be starting in just minutes… I jumped on a horse I borrowed from the local stable-master and rushed to the Delving Fields. As I arrived, I had missed the main courses… but not the desert. Pies! And more pies! And the beverage to end all… Ale! A keg of ale! I filled my two mugs I had stored in my pack with ale and rushed towards the fire, placing them down and running for pie. The pie was delicious, pecan, berries, and many others, but I am disappointed that the Hobbits had never heard of ‘Butterscotch pie’ tis the king of all pies.

With desert finished, the master of the home, Tyrgrimm and his wife Aerhinn showed us outside… before we continued I ran over and obtained more ale from the keg… immediately after I completed filling my mugs, Master Tyrgrimm put a lock on the keg… it seems I was not as welcome as I had thought… I am almost insulted! To lock a keg! The nerve!

The good lady Aerhinn Pathfinder seemed interested with my pack I protected from the devious elves that stood not but a pick-axe reach away. As I moved it around the cover of the pack opened slightly, exposing my precious treasure! Aerhinn noticed this opening and saw the sparking minerals, I saw her eyes widen with glee, I knew at that moment I should leave… Or I may have a mob of elves and hobbits attempting to rob me of my treasure! Quickly I left the green fields of the shire, returning to my temporary home in Thorin’s hall so that I may properly store this stash… and return to my mother-lode deep in the mountains…

And they say I AM greedy, those Hobbits and Elves were fixing to mug me they were!

((I may have screen shots at some point for this… maybe))
((also, thought I might add that the mine does not exist, do not waste you life away trying to find it))