After they
were inside the keep, they were greeted by the sight of a long, great hall,
greyed and worn by age and disuse, but with an intact ceiling at the very
least. “Bifur, Bofur, could you please see if you can find anything to burn so
we can set up a fire in the hearth?” Thorin asked the others, pointing in the
direction of a hearth that was off to the far end of the hall. “And Bombur,
well..You can see to cooking once the fire is lit.” Thorin said, and looked to
Gandalf. “I suspect you will venture out through these halls to find out more?”
The wizard nodded. “Yes. Though I must implore that you do not burn any scrolls
or somesuch. I would very much like to read it, if possible.” Thorin nodded in
agreement, and then continued to look around. “I pray that this little detour of
ours does not take too long. We really should be halfway to Hobbiton as it is
already.” “Don’t worry, Thorin. All things have their time, and you
will be on your journey before you know it, I am sure.” Gandalf continued,
before he disappeared down one of the hallways leading out from the Great Hall.
Thorin wasn’t
as keen to leave things as is, so he took to making sure the hearth was still
capable of being used and looking for whatever useful he could find for the
fire. It didn’t take long before there was a fire roaring, and Bofur ventured
out to find Gandalf in the hallways of the strange keep. He came upon the grey-donned wizard in one of
the studies that could be found on the higher floors of the keep, and gave a
small knock upon the stone wall before stepping in. “I’d reckon Bombur will get
the food on the way soon, I thought I might as well come and tell you.” Bofur
stated slowly, before realizing that the wizard was nose-deep in an old, frail
parchment. “Found anything of interest yet?” the dwarf continued into the room.
The wizard did not yet meet his gaze, nor acknowledge his presence, even as he
came to see the content of the parchment. The scripture, whatever it was,
couldn’t be read by him, and his brows furrowed curiously. “Gandalf…?” “Ah,
Bofur! My apologies.” The wizard startedly came to life and gave a small jump. “It
seems there was some sort of tragedy here, but I’m having trouble actually
determining what it is that happened.” Gandalf shook his head, and scratched
along his bearded chin in thought. “I
don’t think it’s possible for me to find out what there is to know about this
citadel within reasonable time, so I might as well take whatever scrolls and
books that might pinpoint me in the direction of what happened. Bofur, would
you mind helping me with this?”
