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The Chamber of The Rangers

Ciryaher

Witch of Resurrection
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A morning dawned blearily as a chill drizzle arrived, hiding the sun. The solid stone foundation had been long built, and the outer wall was rising as work began on the inside for the barracks, armoury, storehouse, keep, and several other minor structures.

Goldhram stood upon the only tower that was near complete, in the corner where the walls would intersect. He stood about a score of rangar from the grass below. "You should put a majority of workers on the outer walls, for that is what is needed first," the dwarf said to one of his foremen, "Next in line should be the keep, followed by the hall, barracks, storehouse, armoury, then the infirmary."

"Yes, Lord Goldhram!" said the taller- and heavier-than-average hobbit to whom he spoke.

The dwarf surveyed the worksite and nodded in a pleased way. His dwarven kindred cut the stone, the men built and operated the lifts, and the sharp-eyed and nimble hobbits guided the massive stones into place as they were pushed and pulled onto the walls. Other dwarven and hobbit masons worked busily, cutting massive, flat stones that were to be the face and back of the wall. Human bricklayers set the bricks for the smaller buildings and helped heft the large stones for the keep into place. Hobbits raced about on scaffolding, putting hard-to-reach timbers into place. It was a perfect organization of men, hobbits, and dwarves.

This is as it should be, thought Goldhram.
 

Ecthelion

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Days went by and Tim and Tom now helped out building the fortress, the schedule for Tim was simple. During the day he helped in the building and on most nights he spent with his dwarf friend Goldhram. Tim smiled on this bright morning, it was a beautiful day and the fortress was coming along great, he greated the fellow hobbits he worked with almost everday and started working.
 

Ciryaher

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A day or two before, a messenger had come and delivered a message to Goldhram. He told everyone that he would return in less than a week, and that his hobbit-friends could keep his supply of ale with them.
 

Ecthelion

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Tim and Tom waved as their friend went off on his travels, Tim turned smiling to Tom who was also smiling, simutaneosuly they both looked behind them and stared at the ale left for them, in a flash they ran and got their favorite drinking mug and before they knew it they were dancing, singing, and telling stories they made up of how they killed Balrogs and took the ring to Mordor and such.
 

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