I hate to pile onto Turbine.  The game is still by far the best MMO out there and as an RP’er there could not be a better world for the immersion I seek in a game like this.  However, the massive nerf on hunters that was dealt to us with the launch of Book 7 has made the hunter class far too easy play. 

In the past Aggro Management was one of the things that separated huntards from great hunters.  After the launch of MoM hunters were pretty uber in strength stance.  So uber in fact that many thought they were making the content obsolete.  I disagree.  Were there 10k heartseekers?  Yes.  However that was the exception and not the rule.  For a hunter to truly dish out the massive, mind-blowing DPS we needed to be in strength stance and hit Burn Hot.  That meant that we were grabbing all aggro and were about to be out of power.  A hunter worth his salt would only flick on that mind blowing switch when the fight was all but won.  I loved, loved playing a hunter immediately after MoM because it was actually a challenge by making us the top DPS class in the game!  Now…it is easy to drop aggro and if you have a really great tank you might be able to never get aggro away!

You may be told by the guardian, champ or warden of your group to stick to endurance stance when fellowing.  Sorry but following this simple rule makes you an unneeded member of your team.  Why?  Because nearly every other class can now out DPS you when you are in Endurance.  Also, as I will explain in later editions, you can’t protect your healer properly when in Endurance. The truth is you need to know how to do the stance dance.

This actually takes a little bit of time to properly learn, but if you can master aggro management then everything else you need to do as a hunter is simple.

Trash Mobs:

My goto stance is Strength Stance for trash mobs.  Why?  Because I’m targeting a single target and laying waste to it.  By the time the single target can do much damage to me it should be dead.  The best groups will have a fellowship assist, which to me should always be a hunter.  A fellowship assist means that whichever target you select, the rest of the team can focus on killing it.  If you are not the fellowship assist, that is ok.  Stay in Strength and beat down on the fellowship assist’s target.  You’ll likely get aggro, but again you will kill the mob before it does any serious damage to you. 

If you are fellowship assist your job is simple. As the guard holds the mobs you should then select a target and start laying in on it.  As soon as the mob is dead, grab another.  The way I always select my targets is first by strength.  Weakest first…so normal, signature, elite and then elite master.  If the mobs are the same strength then I hit buffers, healers, ranged and then melee targets in that order.

This method of peeling off mobs and killing them one-by-one is pretty standard and highly effective if you have a real good healer and tank.  There are a few pitfalls though.  You should never, ever use Rain of Arrows while the tank has aggro on multiple mobs.  If you are in strength then all of those bad guys are going to turn and focus on you.  The minstrel now has to keep your squishy butt alive and the tank is pissed cause he has to rein everything back in.  Rain of Thorns can be used on occasion, but those are special circumstances as dictated by your fellowship leader.

Bosses:

Most people will tell you that the best way to start out a boss fight is in Endurance and then build slowly to Strength.  I disagree.  I always start in Precision.  If the tank can’t hold aggro off of me while I’m in Precision than we have a big problem and he is a guardtard (made that up…).  Precision has no increase or decrease to threat.  It is threat neutral.  What it does is allow more of your shoots to hit and increases your crit rating.  You MAY steal aggro from the tank if you crit.  However there is a beautiful button named Beneath Notice that will drop your aggro and give it right back to the tank.

So I start a fight in Precision by using only Quick Shot and Auto-Attacks for the first 30 seconds.  This allows the tank to establish threat on the target while also doing some damage.  Never open with Heart Seeker.  If you do you will get immediate aggro and make your tank very angry, as it will take some time for him to establish aggro for the first time.  (There are exceptions to opening with Heart Seeker if your Fellow leader gives you the ok.  But to be honest Heart Seeker has been over nerfed and is used rarely).

After that first 30 seconds I then go through my normal routine of Swift Bow, Quick Shot, Penetrating Shot.  Always try to stand out of melee range so you hit with a ranged auto-attack instead of a melee attack.  That way you do much more damage.  I go nuts when I see Hunters pulling their swords during a turtle fight.  Step back a few feet!

After a few more minutes I will move up into Strength Stance and start again with 30 seconds of Quick Shot and Auto-Attacks before going all out.  If you start to get aggro then hit Beneath Notice and drop back down to Precision.  If not, let in on the boss with all you have.

If you grab aggro on the boss and you do not have Beneath Notice available, you can finally drop down to Endurance Stance.  The secret is to keep hitting the boss with Quick Shot.  This has a negative threat, meaning you will quickly lose aggro back to the tank.  Once the tank has aggro keep on with Endurance Quick Shot and build again slowly through Precision to Strength.

That is the dance.  Always remember that even though you have the best armor a hunter can find you are still pretty squishy (though not RK squishy…how do they solo?!).  So the goal is to allow your team members to do their job (especially your tank and healer) by properly doing yours.

Future Additions:

Protecting your healer
Crowd Control
Maximum DPS
Power and your hunter
Learn to Love Needless Haste
Melee Fighting
Legacies!
What about… (those unused skills)

I RP…a lot.  Currently I have a dwarf that is causing trouble in the Shire and, though I haven’t published the story yet, lost his beard.  I also have a bit of a scoundrel helping to run a pit fighting tournament in Ost Forod while scamming locals in games of chance.  Finally I have my main, Valdikr, who is leading a rag-tag team through the darks of Moria in an effort to reach Lorien.

Turbine has done a fabulous job of creating Middle Earth thus far.  It does not take too much imagination to imagine yourself as one of your characters fighting against the growing shadow from Mordor.  The world is beautiful and the graphics are top notch.  I LOVE RP’ing in LOTRO.

Though you won’t see my characters too often in Bree.  Not that Bree isn’t great.  It is a fabulous place to RP.  It’s just that there is so much more out there that I find it difficult to give my characters an IC reason to stick to that one place.  So for those of you that haven’t explored roleplay outside of the Prancing Pony, I give you my Top Ten rankings for the best places to roleplay at.

10.  Forochel - No great interior places.  But you can almost feel the cold when you RP there. 

9. Moria - Yes all of Moria.  I was extremely disappointed to find no good RP interior places (I know…it’s all an interior place.  But you know what I mean).  Shouldn’t there be old pubs or something?!  Didn’t the dwarves have barracks?  Oh wait…there are a few but after you finish a quest you can no longer get access to them.  *Faceplant*  Give us some places to RP!

8. The Forsaken Inn - If anyone from Turbine is reading this please, please, please allow us to turn off NPC chatter!  If you do then the Forsaken Inn would be a classic place for RP. 

7. The Breelands - I’m setting this aside from Bree the town because it really does have a different feel to it.  There are some great little places to RP in Bree.  Ever hung out at that campsite near the lake north of Archet?  ((I’ve seen lots of couples there!)).  How about going into the ruins north of Crickhollow?  Or have you really ever RP’ed in the Old Forest or the Barrowdowns (other then cussing at Lalia!).  Good zone.

6. Bree - There is a reason Bree is where everyone plays.  It is done extremely well.  However, the best place to RP in Bree is NOT the Prancing Pony.  It is the Hunters Lodge near the AH.  Still it is a great zone and, thrown in with Combe and Archet, there is a lot of fun stories you can do.

5. Lorien - Yes.  The quests are junk in Lorien.  The Battle Instance is fun, but doesn’t bring anything new to the table that we didn’t see in the Angmar Battle Instances or 2.5.5.  My character has been saving the world and you really want him to go picking berries or to cuss out drunk elves?  I nearly fell out of my chair when the elves asked Ohnundr to do that.  He immediately grabbed a bottle and sat with the first drunk he saw.  Finally an elf with some personality!

All of that aside.  Wow.  What a beautiful zone with some great places for RP.  Lorien was the place the Fellowship rested, and that is how it should be played by your characters.  There is also the fun of IC getting turned away until you have proven yourself to be a true friend to Lorien.  Just wish you could prove your friendship by doing more then carrying arrows.

4. Shire - I know.  Way underrated on my list.  The Shire was just perfectly done.  The pubs are great.  The houses in the homesteads look great.  Turbine really did this zone well.

3. Rivendell - Ok I’m going to say it.  If you RP an elf and RP in Bree you are possibly breaking the lore and definately doing yourself a HUGE disfavor.  Why in the world would anyone that plays an elf RP in the Prancing Pony when they have Rivendell!?!  The Hall of Fire alone should entice every elf to RP there.  But I question anyone that RP’s in the game and hasn’t spent time with friends sitting by the pond in the Rep area.  

2. Gath Forthnir in Angmar - Let me start by saying that I hate, hate questing in Angmar.  Why?  Cause it is depressing.  The place is ugly and filled with the most vile of creatures and men.  There is NOTHING beautiful in Angmar and the place is a hole. 

That is why is so great to RP in!  A few months back my kin decided to take on the Balrog IC.  We lost.  And I’m glad!  I was glad because it allows me to go back to GF to spend some time RP’ing in that desolate wasteland. 

Now yes, there is no RP hub in GF.  The camp is too small and there is no place where your character would just sit around and chill out.  But that is the point and why it is such a great place to RP!  Imagine you as your character for a moment.  You have received word that the Rangers are shored up in a few secret encampments in the west of Angmar, within sight of Carne Dum itself.  You sneak through the enemy lines, search the hills and eventually find the camp.  The Rangers are stressed, worrying they may soon be discovered.  There are secret missions to be had to sneak into Carne Dum and aid the Hillman in the city.  There is a great evil growing under a cracked seal that needs to be investigated. 

On top of that you have learned that the Angmarim are massing and preparing to march on Aughaire.  Those Battle Instances are GREAT for RP!  One of the best quest lines that Turbine has put into the game (Turbine if you reading this, make them always available!!!).

1. Evendim - This was the watershed zone for Turbine.  Yes I know there is a major bug with anti-exploit in the zone and everyone hates swimming.  But even with those problems you cannot beat Evendim for RP.  First there is the Keep, an RP’ers dream location.  You have a large number of chairs that you can sit in and kegs and beds.  I have spent countless hours with my kinmates de-stressing from the war in Annuminas while drinking in the Keep or discussing battle plans on the large table up the stairs.  I wish Turbine would add more locations like this.  It is untouched anywhere in the game.

But the Keep is just one small part of the zone.  There is also the war in Annuminas.  Turbine did a top notch job of making you feel like you are stuck in the middle of a winless war in an ancient city.  Constant attacks by Angmarim and trolls.  Enemies just outside of camp.  Dead bodies littering the battlefield.  Enemy generals commanding their troops and launching attacks on the rangers to wrest control of important checkpoints.  Brilliant.  For months my kin could be found fighting the good fight alongside the Rangers in the hope of retaking the ancient city. 

Then you have the Blue Elf’s grotto!  Maybe one of the most beautiful places in all of ME.  Need a place for your character to relax?  Want to find an out of the way NPC to serve as some kind of an expert or wise sage?  Who better then the Blue Elf?  Or the Ent to the North?!  So far the only place in the game where you can RP with an ent. 

Ost Forod is also a great place for RP!  The fighting pit, the unwary locals, the feeling of all eyes glued to your every moment.  Just a fun place for less then honorable characters.

Summary - I really wish there were more interior places like the Tinnudir Keep or the Huntsmen Lodge in Bree.  Those are some great RP places.  But there is really some great places for roleplay if you want to actually live the adventure your players are setting out on. Get out of Bree!   I can’t handle when I hear people complain…”The only place in this game to RP in is Bree.”  Balony!  I can’t tell you how many friends I’ve made while out in the world.  If you are RP’ing, and your RP is quality, people will notice.  They will send you tells asking if they join in or, even better, they will just approach you IC.

“Not fair!  Orznog is smart!  Groznold is dumb!”  The orc complained loudly as he scampered along a small ledge in Eregion.  “They are bigger then Orznog but they are not smart like Orznog.  Orznog will find the grey wizard.  Orznog will be chief!”

For days the squardran of orcs silently tracked the nine travelers after they turned back from Mount Caradhras.  The orcs were getting closer.  The odor of manflesh floated on the wind.  While the others slept Orznog decided to have a closer look.  So he left the camp and followed the smell of the nine.  As he climbed over a small outcroping of rock he saw them sitting, staring at the wall.  The grey wizard was with them.  Orznog smiled.

“Orznog will be chief,” the beast thought to himself as he watched the nine closely.  His orders were simple.  Find the wizard, kill him and his friends.  Then return with everything they have.  Leave only their bones.

As Orznog turned to tell the others a loud noise erupted from the place the nine stood.  The mountain shook and an opening appeared in front of the grey wizard.  Orznog watched in horror.  His dreams of being favored by the master and being granted revenge on the larger orcs was slipping away as the nine stepped into the darkness. 

Orznog slid down the small outcropping of rocks.  Perhaps Orznog could surprise them.  Kill each before they could attack.  He pulled his weapon from his belt just as the water began to stir.  Orznog could smell the danger.  He scampered back up the rocks as a long tentacle slipped out of the water and grabbed a fat hobbit.  “This good!  Monster kill them. I bury their things and bring master here!  I become chief!” 

The battle lasted for several minutes but eventually the hobbit was dropped by the monster in the pond.  Orznog growled as the nine escaped into the cave.  His thoughts immediately focused on the others.  They will have to get into the cave and seek out the nine.  Kill them in the dark.  Before he could leave his plan failed again.  The creature, in his fury, tore down two large trees in front of the cave entrance.  He then grabbed rocks and boulders and began to pile them at the door.  It would take a force of one-hundred orcs to remove the debris and kill the beast now.  Orznog was angry.

“ARGGHHH!” he roared as the monster slide beneath the waters.  The orc jumped from his perch and ran to the pile of stone and fallen timber.  “Master will flay Orznog!”

For hours the orc sat staring at the stone.  Finally he stood and began to return to his brethren.  He would tell them nothing.  Groznold will take the blame. 

As he stepped forward, however, something stung the bottom of his left foot. The orc howled in pain as he fell to the ground.  Examining his foot he saw blood.  He could feel something stuck far into his sole but his fat fingers could not pry it free.  Orznog was injured.  This will slow him.  The others will kill him.

Orznog considered running.  There were other orc camps.  He could pretend to be from another clan. 

“Yes.  That was a good plan.  Orznog will run.”  His hand fell to the floor to prop himself up, landing on something not quite stone or wood.  It was cloth.  He picked up the tiny object in his now bloody hand.  It was a hat.  Too small for a man or an elf.  Dwarf heads are too big.  This is a halfling’s hat.  

Orznog smiled.  This could be a fine prize.  Maybe he would be chief after all. 

 ”Orznog!  You maggot!  Give me the prize,” the war chief Groznold growled as the smaller orc limped into the orc compound on a bloody paw. 

“The prize is mine!  Orznog found it and killed the owner,” the beast snarled as he gripped his rusted sword tightly in his war scrarred mitts. “Orznog saw the wizard!  Orznog is chief now!”

Groznold let out a loud warning roar, “I WILL KILL YOU! TELL ME NOW!” 

“No!  Orznog will only tell the master!  You listen to Orznog now!”  The orc stood atop a small stump and glared eye-level at the much larger beasts in front of him.  “We run to the master!  He must know of the wizard!  You try to take Orznog’s prize or injure Orznog, master learns nothing. His trolls feed on your flesh!”

Orznog’s band made good time through the Misty Mountains, crossing paths with none of the Free Peoples.  When they finally reached Southwestern Angmar they were exhausted and Orznog’s foot was becoming badly infected.  However they were finally within eyesight of their master’s castle. Mordrith would be very pleased to learn that the nine have entered the goblin’s domain in the captured dwarven mines.  His prey is now trapped.

“We are nearly there maggots!  Master will have the prize soon!” Orznog held the hat up high as he swayed on one leg. “We will dine on the flesh of she-elves!”

The band moved quickly and quietly through the swamps of Malenhad.  It must have been a shock when the dwarf leapt up from under the water, his hammer crushing the skull of Groznold and two other orcs with one mighty swing.

Two Weeks Earlier
“Huski.  How long should your banishment be this time?” The ritual between Huski Alegut and Barliman Butterbur was playing out yet again in the Prancing Pony.  This time the old digger destroyed four barrels of fine elven wine. 

The dwarf had made a bet with a hobbit named Kristyl that he could hit the Boar Statue in Bree with a barrel rolled down the hill in front of the pub. He had five chances to make good on the bet.  The first barrel hit the wall surrounding the pub.  The second crashed through a neighbor’s window.  The third passed the statue and broke the leg of a Bree watchman.  The fourth somehow ended rolling behind the dwarf and landing in the fountain…uphill.

How he got the kegs out the front door without Nob, Bob or Butterbur seeing?  Who can tell.  All the tavern keep knew was that the entire road was now a lovely shade of purple and the mayor was expecting him to clean it up. 

“Guess two months should do it Barli,” Huski replied as he lifted his large backpack up on his shoulder and grabbed his hammer and shield. 

“Well be safe out their old friend.  I want to see you back here soon.”  Butterbur chuckled as the dwarf prepared for his journey.  “Where are you going this time?”

“I hear that there is a dwarven mining community up past Aughaire.  Figured I’d see what Angmarim ore smells like,” Huski replied as he left the building. 

“Huski wait!  Where is the fifth barrel!?” The heavyset man called out, but it was too late.  As soon as the front door slammed closed Butterbur could hear the crowd cheering.  He looked out the window just in time to see the keg shatter against the Boar Statue at the far end of the road.  The crowd erupted into cheers and the man smiled to himself.  While he lost five expensive cases of elven wine the celebratory drinking would end up bringing him a profit.

“Thirty silver.  When will I learn to stop betting against that old digger?!”  Nob declared as he handed Bob a bag of coins. ”Forgot about the fifth barrel.” 

What in the world does that story about the orcs have to do with old Huski? …

“Min-Rimmon! Min-Rimmon,” the grizzled old dwarf bellows through the main room of the Prancing Pony.  “Bunch of namby-pamby diggers too worried about not hurting the mountain to do any real mining!”

Huski glares across the table as the Iron Mountain dwarf crosses his arms and snarls at the bald old digger.  “You insulting my kin?” The senior Alegut asks through his clenched teeth.

“He’s insulting your kin, your clan, your mountain and your… mine.”  The last word is said with a tinge of disgust by one of Junta’s two companions.  “You are a bunch of cowards and cheap drunks.  Not fit to hold as much as an ore-cleaning-brush!”

Huski’s furrows his brow as he looks over the group of dwarves.  Jurna - a serious dark-haired craftsman with a barrel chest and large arms.  His black beard is full and covers most of his rotund belly.  Next to him and joining the conversation is an older female, most likely his wife.  Her red hair and beard is carefully braided and her perfectly shined armor includes ancient dwarven runes hinting at a regal past. 

Behind Jurna’s wife stands a ravishing dwarf, most likely Jurna’s daughter.   Her long white hair and beard are braided in the style of the fashion set in the Iron Mountains.  Her robe is older, yet still magnificently crafted from the finest of cave claw skins and spider silk.  Most incredible of all is the two full mugs of ale balanced perfectly atop her enormous dwarven bosoms. 

Huski’s fist slams hard on the table, sending food and ale spilling onto the floors and walls.  “We do not MINE! I challenge you to a Trail by Ale!”  He dares.  The crowd in the Pony quiets immediately and two dwarves away from the argument gasp in shock.  Jurna and his family are stunned, they were hoping for a simple brawl.  A Trail by Ale was only used under the most heated of moments.  Still Jurna could not back down.

“Fine…A Trail by Ale it is!”

“What’s a Trail by Ale,” Bob asks his partner Nob as the two join the rush to find a spot around the table to watch the contest.

“I don’t know Bob.  But I got 10 silver on Huski.”

“Deal…the dwarf can’t always win.”

One of the other dwarves in the Pony pushes his way through the crowd and declares, “According to the ancient and revered ritual of Trail by Ale, a dwarf must serve as judge and referee.  I would be willing to accept that role if both of the contestants agree.”  Both Huski and Jurna nod their heads and the dwarf climbs up on the table.  The dwarf addresses the crowd and explains the contest, “In the past conflicts amongst dwarves were settled by simply seeing which dwarf could drink the most ale.  Unfortunately these battles could go on for days and the competitors often not only forgot their complaints, but forgot that they were competing at all.  So a new duel was crafted, the Trail by Ale.”

Huski glares at Jurna as he waits for the long winded dwarf to finish.  “The challenge in the Trail by Ale is NOT tolerance, but finesse and creativity.  Whichever dwarf can drink their ale in the most unique and interesting fashion…will win!”  The dwarf’s voice lowers and he locks eyes on Huski, “And I know about the Alegut Ram…  So you will need to find another way to impress me.”

As the challenged, Jurna is required to go first.  Using two silver tubes from his wife’s hair he begins to snort up the ale from two large steins.  As the liquid disappears, he also sings a hearty refrain of “Who gives a damn about Elven Gold”.  Once both mugs are fully drained he lifts his head from the table and sprays the crowd with nearly a pint of ale. 

Huski is impressed and claps his hands along with those in the crowd not fully disgusted by the sight.  As two more pints of ale are brought to the dwarf, the old digger’s mind races as how to best top that performance.  Finally a smirk crosses his wrinkled face and he climbs over the table, standing between the two female dwarves. 

The digger cracks his old knuckles and bounces a few times on the balls of his feet.  He slaps his face to prepare and lifts one of the mugs into his right hand.  “You may want to step back,” he says to a young red-headed woman standing behind him as he brings the mug to his lips.  He shakes his head a few times and then quickly reaches out to grab the first dwarven female’s large breast. 

The white-haired dwarf immediately starts pummeling the digger.   She hits him in the eye, knees him the stomach, picks up a chair and smashes it over his bald head and even bites down on the offending hand.  The whole time she is beating on the old dwarf, however, Huski slowly drinks his ale – careful not to spill even the slightest of drops.  Once he sets the first mug down, he releases the dwarf’s breast and grabs hold of the red-haired female’s boob.  Both dwarf females are beating on him now.  Fists fly, bites are taken, at least one hobbit is used as a club!  All the while Huski slowly drinks down his ale and keeps his hand firmly placed on the dwarf’s chest.

When the senior Alegut finally places his mug on the table the white-haired dwarf grabs the digger’s bald head and drives it into the table.  Huski collapses on the floor but is able to hear the judge call out, “Winner – the Min-Rimmon dwarf!”

Money changes hands amongst the crowd as the red-haired dwarf grabs her husband by the beard and pulls him out of the pub.  “You lost to a Min-Rimmon’er! “

“I’m sorry love…”

“And when was the last time you gave me a grope-n-chug!”

The white-haired dwarf straightens her robes, fixes her hair and beard and then bends down to look at Huski.  After a few more punches in the face she lovingly picks out splinters from his short, braided beard and whispers into his hear, “My name is Dossi…  Feel free to call on me any time you wish.”  She then turns to follow her parents.

“Bob… ,” Butterbur proclaims as the crowd disperses back towards their tables.  The area around the trial is in ruin and the two hobbits stare down at their feet.  “Bob you lost the bet.  So clean this mess up and tell Huski, when he awakens, that this one is a two-weeker.”

“Yes sir,” Bob answers as he fishes out a few coins and hands them over to a laughing Nob.

“Just a second miss,” the dwarf bellows loudly, his voice soaring over the shouts of others. “I have to win this bet first!”

Ithildis watches in dismay as the entire room seems to form into a crowd around the old digger. Several men begin to shove and push people out of the way as they make a clear runway for Huski about fifty feet in length. On the opposite end of the stretch is another, yet far younger dwarf, with a large helmet on his otherwise entirely nude body. Huski slams a helmet onto his own head, lowers his body, and stands at the ready.

“Thanks Ithildis,” the dwarf slurs as he reaches inside the bag and pops two acorns into his mouth. The elf lady immediately strikes him on the back of the head with her staff, forcing the seeds to pop out and onto the ground.

“These are not for eating Huski! They are for you to give to your friends,” she declares as she picks the two acorns up and puts them back inside the bag.

“You mean you are giving me a bag of nuts for my friends to eat while I get none? That’s not very nice.”

“No Huski. These are magic acorns. You give one to a friend. When they are in trouble they will blow into a small hole in the bottom. No matter where you are in Middle Earth you will hear this sound. It will alert you to any of your friends that are in danger. The sound will lead you to them.”

Huski Alegut stares at the bag for several minutes. While he mostly considers dropping the bag and running back into the Pony, he also considers the idea of a magic nut that warns him to his friend’s danger a rather useful tool.

“There’s more Huski,” Ithildis answers as if sensing his thoughts. She turns and points at a rather brilliant looking pony on the other side of the alley. “This is Runya. His name means Red Flame. He previously belonged to a young elvish lad from Lindon. The elf has since outgrown the animal and his father has awarded him a full-sized horse. This pony needs a new owner so I purchased it for you. Now when your friends call for your help you can be at their side with your shield quickly. By riding there!”

Huski stands speechless. A pony, for him? 

Ithildis whispers a few things into the pony’s ear before turning to give Huski a goodbye hug. The dwarf and the pony spend the next few minutes just staring into each other’s eyes.

“Ok pony. Let’s give this a try,” the old dwarf says as he reaches out for the reins. The pony immediately nips at his hand. “Hey! That wasn’t very sweet tempered,” Huski bellows as he grabs the reins and puts his foot in the stirrup. As he lowers all of his weight into the stirrup and begins to lift his right leg over the animal it bucks, sending the dwarf slamming heavily into the ground with a loud thud. The pony then runs off.

You want more don’t you?  Well you have to wait…

Huskeeehhh!!” The high-pitched squeal of the pixie pierces the main room of the Prancing Pony one early morning.  Five dwarves, sleeping in various locations on the floor and the furniture each grunt loudly at the elf’s wake up call.  The elf glides effortlessly through the room, her eyes scanning the floor for any sign of her old digger friend.  As she passes the keg room she eyes her pray laying on the stage in only battle helmet, his naked white rear facing her.

“Huskeeehh!  Wake you!  I got something to show you!  You really do sleep too much!  And you need to put on your clothes before other elves come in!  You are going to make them sick to their stomachs you know that!  Honestly, I don’t know why I love you so much!  Do you want some berries for breakfast!  I was out hunting yesterday I picked a fresh batch of strawberries!  It was the funniest thing, a hare…or was it a rabbit…I can’t remember.  I wonder why they call them a hare.  Why not a hopper or a big ears?  I mean wolves have hair, but we don’t call them a hare.  And why strawberries, I mean…..”  The elf blabbers until interrupted by the sleeping dwarf.

“Eilka!  Please…I need my sleep. I’m an old dwarf!” Huski bellows at his friend before she kicks him in his soft giggly behind.

“Please Huskeh!  I just got back from Rivendell and I want to show you something!  Please! Please! Please! Please!”  The elf continues with her pleases for several minutes before the remaining dwarves bellow in unison, “Huski go!”

After taking several minutes to dress himself and search around the room for half filled mugs of beer to drink down, the old dwarf exits into the bright sunlight where he finds Eilka standing proudly with a new bow.

“You came to show me your bow Eilka?,” he asks as he shields his eyes from morning sun.

“Don’t be ridiculous Huskeeh, it’s not….wait I did get a new bow the other day.  I had a friend make it for me.  He’s a nice elf, I used to have a crush on him until Celebrodwen yelled at me for chasing a married elf.  Did you know that I’m staying at Celebrodwen’s house. It’s quite boring.  She has too many books.  Why would an elf…” 

“Eilka!  Focus miss!  The bow!”  Huski interrupts as he pulls some leftover bits of bacon from his beard and scarfs them down.

“It’s for you!”  Eilka states very simply for the young sprite.

Huski takes the bow and examines before giving his dear friend a puzzled look, “For me?  What use would I have for a bow?”

“Well Huskeeh,”  Eilka answers with a snide glare, “I’m trying to save you from getting any uglier.  I mean, everytime you get that fat skull of yours hit you seem to get less and less….presentable.  Any more close battles and you may end up looking like a goblin.  That’s when you’ll turn evil.  Everything ugly is evil.  Well except you.  You are ugly. I’m not going lie to you.  But as near as I can tell you aren’t evil…yet.  You can’t afford to get any uglier Huskeeh.”

The senior Alegut seems unfazed as he stares at the bow, “I don’t know how to use it.”

“I’ll teach you!,” Eilka excitedly replies as she grabs the dwarf by the shirt collar and pulls him towards the north gate of Bree, “We’ll go hunting!  Oh I’ve always wanted to take you hunting!  You can enter the forest from one side and all the animals will run away from you!  I can wait at the other side and shoot!  We will catch enough food to feed….oh wait!  Then you can’t learn to use your bow.  Hmmmm.  Maybe we should hunt goblins.  I will enter from one side of their camp and they will flee…no.  They like pretty things, chase me and I’ll have to kill them all.  You won’t get to learn to use your bow.  Hmmm.  I know!  You can shoot at rocks!  Rocks can’t run away from you or towards me!  That’ll work!”

“Rocks,” Huski asks with a curious expression.  “Won’t that break the arrows?  Why not trees, they…” Before the dwarf can finish he is interupted by a smack in the face from the wry sprite.

“No!  Bad dwarf!  You never, never, never, never, never shoot at trees!  How would you like it if I started practicing my archery on you?!  Trees feel Huskeeh,” Eilka proclaims as she crosses her arms and huffs.  “It is a wonder I am friends with you.”

“Sorry Eilka.  We don’t have trees under the mountains.  Thought they were just like big mushrooms…”

“Mushrooms!  Mushrooms!  Huskeeh they are nothing like Mushrooms!  Mushrooms are disgusting little plants that grow in the dark.  The only purpose for mushrooms is to feed hobbits!  Trees are different.  They are regal and kind and beautiful and …  well they are almost like elves.  Would you shoot me Huskeeh?!  Would you?!  Huh!”

“Not today no.”

“Not today!  It’s happening isn’t it!  You are becoming evil!  I knew it…you are too ugly!”

“Eilka…the bow?”

“Oh yes.  Well if we shoot at rocks then you can learn.  You can shoot at rocks right?  I guess I never thought that perhaps you didn’t like to hurt rocks the way I don’t like to hurt trees.  Oh Huskeeh…I’m so sorry.  I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I don’t mind shooting at rocks Eilka.  I was just worried about your arrows.”

“Oh don’t!  If the arrows break it gives me a reason to see Ranaech again.  He is SO dreamy.  Why he ever married that…”

“Eilka, can I get an ale while you are talking?”

“No!  Bad dwarf!  We are going to practice!”  The elf grabbed the dwarf by his dirty shirt collar and dragged him to the north.  Soon after the two odd friends find themselves on the hills of northern Bree.  Eilka hands the bow over to Huski and waits for him to try and shoot. 

“I’m always in front of you when you are shooting this thing Eilka.  I don’t know how it works.”  Huski explains as he holds the bow backwards.

“Well, that’s another problem that we have Huskeeh.  You need to learn to watch me while we fight.  My armor is quite lovely and I love the way it glistens from the glow of my dagger.  Which is what we need to talk about next.  That hammer is too heavy.  If you are to be a proper warrior you need lighter weapons.  I mean seriously Huskeeh..how do ever manage to stab anything with that.  All you do is break their bones.  Though I imagine that COULD be effective.  But I think a quick stab is far more ….look a hare!  Oh…shoot the hare Huskeeh hurray.  It’s getting away!……Wait. Don’t shoot it.  It might be heading to a berry patch, we should follow it!  Oh I hope its raspberries, I need more raspberries because I’m running low!  Huskeeh are you coming or…..oh.  The bow.  Yes.  Watch me.”

The two then spend an afternoon of archery practice interrupted by the occasion dwarven belly scratch, berry snacks, elven modeling sessions and hare chasing.  By the end of the day the dwarf, exhausted and in need of a beer gives his elf friend a big hug and lumbers back to the pony to find his missing underpants.

Did you know that Huski has a pony?  Runya.  Stubborn as the dwarf.  The pony openly dispises dwarves, especially our chubby protagionist.  But that is next time.

“At home at last,” Huski Alegut thinks to himself as he steps into the Prancing Pony in Bree after a long journey from Min-Rimmon.  As Huski wanders through the tavern he is greeted with pats on the back and handshakes from those that missed his company.  The dirty pub full of unsavory characters will serve as the old dwarf’s temporary refuge.   While here, the fear of the unknown war ahead is will lift as he enjoys the company of men-folk, elves, dwarves and even hobbits.

The anxiety over the past day’s event slips away as Huski sits down to have a drink with Cynewynne and her brother Broddi.  Huski chuckles as young Broddi desperately tries to gain the attention of a particularly lovely young lass while Cynewynne combs flour from her hair.  The music of a hobbit lifts the dwarf’s spirits as he quickly downs two pints of ale.  

 Hours, and dozens of pints of ale, disappear in a blur.  During the night friends of all races stop by to ask Huski about his unusually long absence from the pub, only to be answered with an abrupt grunt and shrug of the shoulder.  As morning approaches the old dwarf notices that Broddi is vomiting in the corner and Cynewynne has gone off to bed.  He looks around the room for a friendly face and, noticing none, stumbles off to one of the back meeting rooms for some quiet reflection.

 A bit tipsy from the heavy drinking, Huski makes his way to his favorite chair in front of the fireplace and immediately begins stripping off his armor and underclothes.  Unfazed by the thought of Butterbur angrily chastising the dwarf for being fully nude in a public room, the old dwarf takes a piece of cloth, dips it in ale and begins to wash his hairy, plump body.  After being sure that he is fully clean, and grunting a hello at two unfortunate elves that walk in on his weekly bathing ritual, the Alegut clan leader slips on his dirty underclothes, downs the ale that served as his bath water and relaxes in his chair.  He has found his new home.

“Everyone get their bets down,” Ohnundr bellows as a flurry of activity surrounds him.  Chits quickly change hands and Ohn struggles to keep up with those betting against the old digger.”Ok Huski.  You told me this left you unconscience last time.  Don’t pass out til the ale is all gone,”  Arion orders Huski as he helps him focus on the task at hand.  “I’ll have 40 silver down on you making this.  So don’t fail!”

  Huski looks up at Arion and gives him a grin.  He slaps a large helmet onto his head and nods that he is ready to go.

 ”Bah…there is no way that you can do this dwarf!  Give up and admit that you are a liar.  You are going to break your damn neck,” yells out a Bree-Land noboby.  Earlier in the night, in the midst of drinking, Huski bragged about a drinking contest against dwarves in the Thorin’s Hall when he first left his home.  He explained his winning contest and was surrounded by a table full of guffaws.  After being called a liar, and being prodded on by Ohnundr, Huski jumped up and announced that he would prove his skill. 

Ohn, excited to earn some coin by exploiting the crazy dwarf, pushes the barber out of his corner. Four men grab a keg of ale and place it on a table.  Arion then clears out a path from the front door of the inn to the keg.  Butterbur, noticing the commotion and eyeing Huski with a helmet bellows out, “Don’t you dare Dwarf!  Whatever you are planning Huski the answer is no!”

The old digger looks back at the innkeep and gives a devilish grin.  He then turns to the keg, lowers head and runs at full steam.  As he reaches the table his head crashes into the keg and he quickly jerks it onto his broad shoulders. 

The crowd goes absolutely mad as they stare at the stocky old dwarf with his head buried in a keg on his broad shoulders.  Huski tips back and forth for several nearly ten minutes.  While large amounts of ale pour out the hole and onto his shirt, the dwarf is obviously downing insane amounts of beer.  Once the keg is empty Huski bellows a few words in his native language and Arion lifts the empty keg from his shoulders.  The digger gives a broad smile and then immediately passes out drunk.

Chaos erupts as money changes hands quickly.  Ohnundr is forced to muscle a few squelchers, but eventually his pockets brim with newly earned silver.

“Arion!  Ohnundr!  Sober him up and tell him he’s earned himself a month away from the Pony!  And let him know he owes me for that keg,”  Butterbur demands as he hands over 20 silver to his excited employee Bob.

You know there is more….

For the next few days the two travel through the Shire (where Huski is officially labeled a ’Disturber of the Peace’) and finally arrive at the Prancing Pony in Bree.   By the end of their journey the old digger amazingly finds himself enamored with the young sprite and they quickly become close friends and quite inseparable. 

Upon arriving at their destination the two begin questioning the residents of Bree about the man named Arion.  They learn that he frequents the Prancing Pony on occasion and the two unlikely friends make the filthy pub their home.  Huski is immediately drawn to the Pony.  The crowds, sounds, dark lighting, smells and (most importantly) ale all blend together perfectly for the old digger and he quickly finds a favorite chair next to a burning fire.

Eilka however has a different view.  “This place is filthy!  Why don’t they open their windows?  They should take out a wall and make the place more open.  Ale is a nasty drink.  You should drink wine….it’s made from berries you know!  I’m bored.  I’m going hunting.  Do you want me to bring you back some boar meat?”  The elf blabbers on as she glides effortlessly out of the pub.  Huski chuckles to himself as slumps into his favorite chair.  He pulls out his platinum ore and begins to examine it.

“That’s an unusual elf you travel with dwarf.”  The voice echoes through the pub and Huski turns and looks up into the eyes of a giant of a man in full armor.  “I heard you were looking for me.”

Huski is excited to finally find the man named Arion and his lovely elf friend Ithildis.  The three spend hours talking about battle, the need for brave warriors to fight the menace rising in the east, and about a secret group of soldiers named the Elentiri.  For the next few days Arion and Ithildis introduces Huski and Eilka to other Elentiri soldiers, each of which Huski takes a liking to and calls friend.  (Well ok…Not at first with the hobbit he calls Skittlebritches Roundbottom, but that is another story.)

It doesn’t take long for Eilka to become bored with life in Bree however.  “I’m going back to Rivendell to join the Elentiri Huski!  Do you want to come with me?  Oh wait…you are too ugly to be in Rivendell.  Perhaps you can wait in the forest.  Oh no…then the trolls will eat you.  Or think you were one of their own.  Wouldn’t that be funny!  Huski Alegut, King of the Trolls!  Though then I would have to kill you once I join the Elentiri.  I think it would be fun to be a soldier!  I even bought a new bow.  Do you think the Elentiri will like me?  I wonder if any of the Elven men in the Elentiri are single?  I’ll miss you while I’m gone.  Write to me.  You do know how to write don’t you?” 

For the next few months the dwarf continues his friendship with the Elentiri stationed in Bree and even joins them on some of their adventures.  On one notable occasion Huski overhears the elf lady Jeridien planning a journey to the Ranger camp of Esteldin in the North Downs.  Huski, fearing for the elf maiden’s safety, demands to serve as a body guard as she travels.  Ignoring the snickering from the elf, the elder Alegut joins her.

Upon arriving in Esteldin the three meet up with the remainder of of the Elentiri force.  Huski, feeling a strong connection to the Lady Ithildis, sticks near her side to protect her (at least he thinks he is protecting her) as they join the entire Elentiri organization in a battle to retrieve a lost treasure.  In the midst of the fight, as goblins and trolls storm around him and his companions, the old digger spends five minutes to pull a large chunk of raw silver from the ground.

“Master dwarf, now is not the time for prospecting!”  The elf declares as she single handedly brings down a troll that was about to crush the old digger.

Huski looks up with a grin as the troll slams to the ground next to him, “Silver for my new collection Lady!  I’ll always remember you and this troll when I study it!”

Ithildis begins to chastise the dwarf but instead gives a smile and charges back into the fray, leaving the dwarf alone staring at his silver.

After helping the Elentiri in a few more battles, the digger receives a surprise visit from the other clan leaders from the Min-Rimmon Mountain.  It is finally time to return home.  Without so much as a goodbye, the old digger packs up his gear and follows the other dwarves towards the east.

The group of old dwarves travels for nearly 40 days on the dangerous trek to the White Mountains. Luckily, however, the journey is without too many hardships and they reenter Min-Rimmon to a thunderous greeting.  All of the clans are there to greet the returning leaders and a large celebration ensues.   Huski, however, is heartbroken to learn that mere days after his departure his cousin Panti discovered a large silver strike while rechecking Huski’s work. 

“How had I missed the smell of silver,” Huski thinks to himself as he returns to the Alegut clan cavern and stows his belongings.  Panti, the new hero of the family, was immediately chosen as the clan’s leader after making the find.  The old digger, having failed the family by missing the smell of silver, is demoted to a simple rock chipper.

“Sorry Huski.  I only rechecked the work because as I was leaving the mine I thought for sure that I caught a whiff of silver.  I wasn’t trying to underdig you.  I tried to give you the credit but the clan ignored my pleas,”  Panti begs, his eyes staring at the floor.

“It’s not your fault cousin.  I don’t know how I could have missed it.  My nose must not be as fine tuned as I thought,”  Huski mumbles under his breath as he hands the traditional clan leader’s wooden tools to Panti.  “How big is the vein?”

Panti tries to contain his joy but fails, his excitement boiling through, “We’ve already removed 120 feet of silver and still haven’t hit stone yet.  This is shaping up to be as large as Climo’s copper strike.  The Aleguts have been restored to our position as first among the clans!”

Huski’s heart sinks even as he feigns excitement.  “Great work lad!  I always knew you would be a great leader one day.”

Panti  puts his hand on Huski’s shoulder and tries to console his older cousin, “Listen Huski.  You still are revered here.  You are the first Min-Rimmon dwarf to fight in battle in over four hundred years.  Many people are whispering that you will be elected to replace Aggior Thunderhand as leader of the Min-Rimmon clan council when he dies.”

Huski nods and considers his new leader’s words for a few minutes.  Finally he turns to his newly appointed master with hurt in his eyes, “Panti I want to ask a favor.  I want you to send me back to the surface.”

Panti nearly falls over hearing Huski’s words, “Why?  Our kind doesn’t leave the mountain.  What business do you have on the surface?”

Huski sits his cousin down and relives his experiences, proudly showing his two souvenir ore samples.  “They may need my help cousin.  You have plenty of Aleguts that can serve as chippers.  My place is above ground, at least until this war is won.  I won’t leave without your blessing.  But think of the honor it will bestow on the family if I can be part of the solution on the surface.  No other Min-Rimmon clan will have that honor.  Please, for the family and for me, send this old digger to the surface again.”

Panti thinks it over for several minutes, Huski continuing to chew his ear.  “Fine…you can go.  But please send word to us that you are safe and let us know about your adventures.  And return in one piece!”

Huski hugs his cousin deepily and rejoins the celebration in the tavern.  Two days later he leaves his cavern again, joining a party of Gondorian soldiers traveling to Rivendell, where he hopes to find his friends.

And yet more!