The morning was crisp and warm when the company woke. York-ie rose yearly and caught a rabbit in the fields; the company praised him for the meal, and ate a hardy bite before their day’s journey. As they walked with short, lazy strides, York-ie watched Gordon lead his band. The old, bent Dwarf looked grim and worn; his white hair was dirty and clumped in long locks, his eyes were tired but still shone brightly under their heavy lids. he did not look as a feared warrior, but rather a crooked hermit, tattered by battle and weather. York-ie walked beside him and laid his claw on his right shoulder.
`Comes friend, let me walk with you,’ he said; York-ie lifted Gordon’s sagging shoulders up a bit, so to give him a stout stature.
`Do not waste your strength on an old thing,’ said Gordon. `I can carry my own weight, or I shall be left behind for the wolves.’
`Then we all would’ths be in deeper peril,’ said York-ie. `You keep us moving.’
`And only moving,’ said Gordon. `But I can’t keep your bellies full, or your legs rested. I fear this mission may be at its end before the task at hand is concluded.’
`And what’s is the task at hand?’ asked York-ie.
`To defeat the great evil that threatens the northeast, of course,’ said Gordon. `Surely you have not forgotten.’
`No, but this is nots all the tasks. What others are at this hand?’
`I only kept this information from you so I may see your true loyalty; you have proved yourself beyond most hopes. This Orc in the north, Zork-uk, is holding the last remnants of Sauron’s evil forces. And he threatens both Elf and Dwarf.’
`But Sauron was defeated, and his evil is no mores,’ said York-ie.
`The heart of Mordor is as deep as any ocean. The King of Men in that time could not have driven out all the filth that lives in the deepness of the world, nor could any now, I should think. Not only are Orcs of the weak Mordor now in Zork-uk’s army; he is bringing forth creatures from all corners of Middle Earth. Even that pleasant country away east has been stirred. They wander the country gathering wolves and Trolls, so I’ve heard. The fortress of Zork-uk is growing in power, a power that no one army can withstand alone. I believe that Dwarves and Elves must unite as one force, and be rid of evil. The uniting of Dwarves and Elves may be folly, but we must remember the tale of Legoles the Elf, and Gimli, son of Gloin, the Dwarf.’ Gordon looked away to the high mountains veiled with mist.
`Tell me this tales, if it is not long,’ said York-ie.
`They were simply an Elf and a Dwarf befriended in hard times, and together they overcame,’ said Gordon. A silence fell on them, and with curious green eyes, York-ie broke it.
`Whats of my mission?’ he asked. `The mission I have excepted to at my trial.’
`The Dwarves of Lonely Mountain has amassed a grand army in which to assault Zork-uk, however, the gates of his fortress are strong skinned. No army can penetrate his walls, and it is madness to attempt breaking through along with his forces waylaying us with arrows and siege discharges. Only one, one way to breach the gates and enter the city, and that is to open the iron doors from the inside. I do not ask you to aid us in any other way, but I do ask of you to lead us to an entrance in which we can enter quietly and open the doors for our armies. You do not enter unless you wish to, and you do not aid us with opening the gates if you do not wish to.’ A deep silence came over them; no word was spoken for many hours. York-ie finally spoke after much thought an debate.
`There is a ways,’ he said, at length for many days.
York-ie walked in the back of the company as they traveled; falling further behind until he would disappear on the far side of a hill, but he would then run forward and join the rest of the band, only to fall behind again. His thoughts seemed to gnaw on his mind and nag at his sanity. He would search his still dark soul for answers, but it only piled more questions onto the ever-growing tower of predicaments that could soon topple and crash. Gordon saw this in him, and was concerned. So from therein Gordon watched over York-ie, keeping close attention to his actions and feelings, not wanting his fragile soul to break. And once they came to a great hill, gold with weeds and dabbled with gray dew, York-ie was unchanged and still lingering in the rear of the line. But his face was lightened when he looked out over the wilder land, and Beorn’s country, for it was so incredibly fair, and his eyes enjoyed looking upon it. So his heart was lifted for an hour, and Gordon was pleased to see his heart was not so distressed after all.