I am not much one for writing anything down, so I will keep this brief.
I was in the Mestrof neighborhood near Thorin’s Hall, chatting with a dwarf merchant I had met once at Erebor, sometime after Smaug was killed. He said he heard that a group was gathering at the near-by underground river to do some fishing. I have no love of fishing or doing such dirty works, but he mentioned that they might be open to hearing my songs. I could not resist the possibility of a captive audience! I decided to wait for this group to arrive.
I had expected the group to be mostly Dwarves or Men. Much to my surprise, there were quite a few Elves and a Hobbit even. I don’t know what business was brought them to go fishing in the halls of the Dwarves, but that’s not my business to know I suppose. They were an amiable folk, though some wore strange armours that put me in an off mood. I know some of my fellow Dwarves have a love for battle and the ringing of steel but I do not. I am, one might say, more inclined to the scholarly pursuits.
As they fished, I plucked at my lute. They seemed pleased by the sound, though it was a bit hard to hear over the rushing of the waterfall. They mostly talked amongst themselves and I kept out of their talk for the most part. Eventually the hobbit remarked that he had a tale to tell. And what a tale it was! It was the grand tale of Grya and the Fire-Spirit. A great dwarf tale, that it, and the hobbit told it well! I told him he would make a fine Dwarven minstrel. I felt I could not top his grand telling of the story, so I merely played some more songs on my lute, to much applause!
Eventually everyone began to leave and I too made my way out of the halls. A prosperous evening, if I say so myself!