You will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy
Erebor approached the town, the black hill stretching far above the squatty buildings huddling about in its shadow. A large pond of still water was reflecting the rays of the setting sun. A smell of smoke and soot still lingered in the air. he could see a large number of people milling about like an anthill that had been disturbed. A murmur of voices could be heard, setting Erebor's teeth on edge.
He followed the main road into the town. Following the bulk of the people, he saw a large market where people were selling all manner of things: things to eat, things to wear, crafted items, and all sorts of strange things made of metal. Erebor had no idea what those things might be good for. he felt the eyes on him. He felt like a bird surrounded by cats, ready to pounce. He felt the weight of his leather sack and imagined that anyone of the people here would love to plunder all of the treasures that he rescued from the ruins of his camp. Several people smiled, a sick, sugary smile that put him on his guard. He could feel the hairs rising on the back of his neck, he tightened his grip on his hammer.
Erebor saw a few men in chainmail, carrying swords and shields. He took them as guards, people charged with protecting the town and the people of the town. He approached a pair who were sitting close to the edge of the market square. Hoping that they would be able to help, he raised a hand to lower their guard. "Allaro" he said wishing them a good day, "I have just arrived and I am looking for a place to stay and where I might keep the few things that I have..." The two looked at him and snorted. "Do we look like innkeepers?" they spat. They looked to each other and shook their heads in disbelief. "You're welcome to bring whatever you want to the garrison ..." Erebor knew immediately that that would be a ver bad idea. He gave a quick nod of thanks, but quickly started moving on.
He continued around the base of the black hill. A strong smell of sulfur caught his nose, he cougher a few times, concerned he might start coughing. He saw a number of people going into a few small buildings. It looked like a place that people might spend the night. Upon entering, he looked around the large common room and again felt trapped. Several people started sizing him up. He had felt the same on the battlefield, when an opponent was ready to jump in and try to stab him in the heart.
He walked out again and sighed. Where was he to go? Was it a mistake coming here? Where coule he go that he would be safe, his treasures would be safe, that he could stop and just rest for a bit ...