Erebor, the Lonely Mountain, greatest of dwarf realms in the Third Age. It's solitary peak stands alone in the plains of Rhovanion, just outside the borders of Mirkwood. Here dwelled many of our forefathers, We dwarves are strong, as the roots of the mountain. The winds may blow and all the earth quake and tremor but the mountain shall always stand. So are the sons of Durin, strong as the mountain. We will endure. The dwarves owe no allegiance to Elves or Dark lords, we are free and care for our own. Erebor is the jewel of Dwarves, its great halls are filled with riches, and arms. It stands tall among the wilderness of Rhovanion, a challenge to all who would oppose. Our people are strong, our armor is the finest in Middle Earth, our craftsmanship unopposed, except perhaps by the elves. But even them we surpass in the making of jewels and metal. Our trade runs across the mountains, from the Sea of Rhun, to the Havens of Lindon; our coffers overflow, our people are strong.
Yet we are not without dark times; our wealth is the envy of all people but especially the envy of Sauron. Ever since we drove the Dragon from Erebor he has coveted our riches and arms that would fuel his conquest across the world. Yet he fears dwarvish Iron, our warriors are great and skillful and it would take a true horde indeed to drive a dwarf from his mountain, he would be foolish to meet us here, in our towering fortress. But not all dwarf lands are as such, Khazad-Dum, Moria has been overrun by goblins, many of our mountain halls along the north are all but abandoned, and as such they are ripe for the plunder of orcs. But as our strength grows we will look to reclaim and refortify our long forgotten halls, the sons of Durin are not as weak as Sauron thinks. Long has he been our foe, and long have we opposed him. Our furnaces will be reignited with the fires of war, our armies will march to meet him in battle, and overthrow the Dark Tower itself; Dwarvish halls will spread the breath of Middle Earth! But alas it is all but folly. Our people are too few now to march openly against him.
But perhaps with a true bearded son of Durin in command, our armies could withstand these days ahead, and carve a new future for our people. But the Darkness will come, and when it does it will strike hard at Erebor and few would hope to stand in the day of his wrath. He will come with orcs, and trolls and Southrons and cruel men of the east, and perhaps even the Dragons will assail us with him. We are overrun by orcs and goblins and dark lords, and shadow seems to be all that is foreseen...but our people are strong, strong as the roots of the mountain. The wind may blow and the earth quake, even the Anduin overflow, but yet our people as the mountain will stand. And though all his strength may assail us, he will see true sons of Durin, with axe in hand and battle cry in the air! Baruk Khazâd! Khazâd ai-mênu! And he will come to see, that Durin's folk above all others, are STRONG, STRONG AS THE MOUNTAIN!
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