The Green Dragon Inn - Part 10

[piosenniel]

We had reached the limit for numbers of posts in Part 9 (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showthread.php?s=&threadid=5629&perpage=40&pagenumber=10) of the Inn.

Welcome to the Green Dragon Inn - Part 10. Carry on, Shirelings!
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GREEN DRAGON INN FACTS:

It is the 4th Age, year 12. By the Shire Calendar it is year 1433 S.R. (Shire Reckoning).

King Elessar is on the throne of the Reunited Kingdom of Arnor and Gondor.

Mirkwood has been reclaimed by the Elves and is now called Eryn Lasgalen.

Paladdin Took, Pippin’s father, is Thain of the Shire. (Thain is an honorary title for the military leader of the Shire. The title has been held in the Took Family since the position was first established in 3rd Age 1979 with Bucca of the Marish as First Thain.) Paladdin Took dies in year 13, and will be succeeded by his son, Peregrin, ‘Pippin’, Took.

Samwise Gamgee is Mayor of the Shire, having succeeded Will Whitfoot in 1427 S.R.

The Innkeeper, in the Green Dragon Inn of this forum, is:
Aman – a young woman from Rohan.

Before her, the Innkeeper was Piosenniel, and before her it was Dwarin, the Dwarf.

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Other ongoing characters in the Inn:

Ruby Brown, Hobbit – not married – server and maid

Buttercup Brownlock, Hobbit – not married – kitchen assistant and maid

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Ongoing characters from outside the Inn:

Halfred Whitfoot – local Shiriff from Bywater and Postmaster for this area of the Shire; his pony’s name is Dumpling.

Fredgar Hornblower – local Shiriff from Hobbiton – played by Fool of a Took
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Please Note:



No 'SAVES' are allowed in the Inn.

With the exception of the Innkeeper and the Moderators, no OOC (Out Of Character) comments are allowed in the Inn.

Only the Innkeeper, Amanaduial, or the Moderators move the timeline for the Inn forward.

Visitors to the Inn will need to read the posts that come before theirs to get an idea of what time it is in the Shire, what the weather is like, and what is happening.

Please be familiar with the rules for the Inn and Games in The Red Book of Westmarch, the first topic in the Shire.
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IT IS NOW AFTERNOON IN THE SHIRE. THE WEATHER IS PLEASANT.

[piosenniel]

Newcomers to the Inn

Please note the Inn Facts at the top of the page. They will clue you in to what is going on.

Before you post, please also read a number of the posts previous to yours so that you will get the flavor of what other characters are doing.

Look HERE (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showthread.php?s=&threadid=5629&perpage=40&pagenumber=10) to read the previous posts.
__________________________________

Brief Synopsis

About a week ago, game time, there was a devastating fire at the Inn. The structure was destroyed, and now the workers at the Inn and the villagers and patrons of the Green Dragon are lending their skills to rebuild it.

The foundation stonework is being redone, as is the framing for the main structure of the Inn.

Items are being salvaged as possible, new tables and chairs are being built, shingles for the roof are being fashioned. There is a cooking fire in the yard, and food is being made there for the workers. Tents have been set up, and some folk are staying in the stable.

Come in and lend a hand.

~*~ Piosenniel, Shire Moderator

[Roa_Aoife]

Roa was outside with Valthalion by the time Galadel came out. Swiftly, the Elf answered the questions written in their eyes. "Fear not, he is out of the darkness for now. He is beginning to understand what ails him. Soon he may be healed. But I cannot be certain, and I can do nothing save ease his pain."
Well, some good and some bad, thought Roa, echoing her brother's favorite phrase. She prayed to Eru that things would turn out for the better.

Turning to Valthalion, she said, "Now, my young kinsman, what is it you desire to discuss with us?" Valthalion paused as though considering how to begin.

"I seek... a fulfillment in my life, and a way to achieve rememberance. I will not find these things in the Shire, this I know, but what can I do?" His face was earnest, and his voice desperate. Roa laughed.

She laughed untill no sound came from her, and her face was red for lack of air. When she finally regained herself, Roa looked up into the face of a rather indignant Valthalion, and a quite amused Galadel. "Forgive me, my friend,I should not have laughed," Roa apologized with a smile. "You seek what many young men seek, and I have heard such things a great deal. You seek a way to fufill your life. Very well, continue to aid with the Inn, and when the time comes, I will teach you these things." his she said with a wink to Galadel, but Valthalion did not notice. Galadel spoke also.

"I agree, this is a matter not lightly taught," she said, returning Roa's gesture. "It is best you complete this task, for it is large enough, and what we will say may take a great deal of time." Valthalion nodded slowly. He looked to Roa and assured her that he felt no grudge for her laughter, and bowing slightly, returned to the work he had been away from for too long already.

"How long will it take him to realize that his life already has meaning and fulfillment?" Roa wondered allowed.
"He has a good heart, and a strong spirit. He only lacks the wisdom that comes from experience," Galadel responded. Roa smiled and bade her keep close watch on Snaveling, then returned to her own labor. Soon, you will understand, Valthion...

[Kransha]

Toby Hornblower mused silently, slowly taking in what had gone on. No one bothered to answer his question well enough for the elder hobbit, but he gathered they were all too flustered by the event with Snaveling to notice a being barely half their sizes. He sat on the ground now, still attempting to comprehend all that had occurred. A low grumble emanated from his sore throat in the form of a gruff guttural noise that rumbled disconcertingly. He looked around and bit his lip, growing more bored despite the recent excitement.

“What do you think she meant by that?” he said to Snaveling with a contemplative look on his face and an elevated eyebrow, though not looking at the man for response, “All of that nonsense about a beginning or some such thing, doesn’t make a thimble-full of sense.” He chuckled incredulously, which was just another obvious exhibition of Toby’s nervous defense mechanism, “Eh, Elves and their mysterious ways, all the more reason not to get muddled in their affairs. I tell you, they can never just answer a question right out, they have to work their way to the answer with a whole lot of useless drivel first.”

Now, Tobias Hornblower had never known an elf, but he just made the assumption. He had spoke with some elves in the Green Dragon Inn, and of course attempted discourse with Ladies Galadel and Roa, but to no true avail. He could not get much of anything amounting to answers from them and was irritated by that, since he almost always got straight answers from the folk he addressed around the Shire and its borders.

Even though he hadn’t given Snaveling the chance to answer his question, Toby decided to speak up again with a totally irrelevant follow-up. He swiveled in his seat on the ground to face Snaveling, his heavy eyebrows lowering as he asked the second question. He raised a hand, with his index river raised as if an epiphany or startling revelation had suddenly come upon him and he was having trouble converting it into the common tongue. He fumbled blindly for words, his mouth hanging open dumbly. A second later, his mouth began moving, but once again no audible sound emerged from the miniature maw. Toby's mouth drifted closed, he settled himself into his makeshift seat, and continued.

“That hobbit…the one who darted before us prior to your fall…do you know him? It seemed, if merely in my own opinion, that the strange ailment struck you when you looked upon him. I may be only filled with foolishness, but I could swear that is what I witnessed, Mister Snaveling."

[Crystal Heart]

Crystal looked around and saw Hama. She hurried over to him, grateful to see that he was alive as well as her other new found friends.

"Tis so good to find that you are all alive and well. I was so worried. Angry had rushed me away from the fire. I haven't been able to get back up here until now. How are you all?" Crystal asked brightly.

[Lumiel]

Having gotten what she wanted, little Indy cheerfully sat down on the grass beside Fulgrim, waiting while he finished his pipe. She was so happy! She hadn't been this happy since...well, for a while. Although anxious to begin, she had a patience beyond her years, learned through hardships.

She pulled at the grass and as she broke the blades, the fresh smell of lawn floated up to her. Her eyes fell on a clover nearby. Reaching out a small hand, she plucked it. Its neat little purple petals seemed to stretch with upreached arms to the warm, loving sun. It was a pretty, though not beautiful, flower and was edible as well. Many times had she survived because of this very flower.

It reminded her of the only friend she had ever had. She sighed. Poke had died long ago, or so it seemed to her. Poke had been an orphan girl like herself. Raised on the streets, she was a rough child. Yet still inside of her was a heart. When Indy was first put out onto the streets, Poke had taken pity on her and helped her learn the ins and outs of the streetlife. The two quickly became best friends, thick as thieves (which indeed they were). Unfortunately, their friendship came to a harsh end.

At the market one day, Poke was caught stealing. Indy had been trying to distract the owner of a stall while Poke did the real work. But the owner was smarter than they had thought, and caught poor Poke. Angry at the outrage, he took matters into his own hands. He beat the young girl and shoved her roughly away from his wares. Indy tried to get the man off of Poke, but her efforts had no effect. When he was through with Poke, he turned to Indy and raised his hand against her. Before any blow could land, Indy had screamed.

When the man had shoved Poke into the street, he had been unaware of the wagon that was bounding down the streets, reined by a drunk man who was out of control. Poke was tossed headlong into his path. The drunk was too far gone to pull up the horses quick enough, and Poke simply wasn't fast enough. Poke, Indy's first and only friend, had died a horrible, painful death. After Poke's death, Indy grew a hatred toward everyone and everything, and the world seemed only too glad to shove it back at her. She had not known anyone to care for nor anyone to care for her since the tragedy. She thought of Poke as she twisted the clover between her fingers. Poke had been the one to tell her the edible qualities of the plant. She glanced up at Fungrim. Maybe she could find a friend again.

[Witch_Queen]

Cree
"I'm going to stay for a longtime. That is unless I can go to Rohan and see what your life was like. I want to settle down, I want so much but I don't know if I can have it." Her words were hollow. I want so much, yet I'm a cursed elf. I can't have any of it. Once I find him, maybe he will decide to wait a little bit. Cree layed back against the grass. her hair became her pillow. "Grimm do you remember the night we met. Only a week ago and I almost died taht night." Cree paused, searching for what to say.

"I owe you my life. Avalon owes you her life. We are greatful that you were there." Cree placed her hand on Grimm's. "I owe everything to you. Thank you for being there. I could careless about leaving right now. Your the reason I'm still here." Suddenly it was like she snapped back to reality. "I'm sorry Grimm. I'm just rambling on about nonsense. I must sound crazy to you. Perhaps this curse has affected my mind." Cree thought she was going to be sick. "Excuse me."

Cree stood up all of a sudden and began running to the nearest tree. "Are you okay?" Cree turned around to see Grimm behind her. She shook her head. Cree didn't know what brought on her sudden sickness. She turned back towards the tree. MOments later Cree finally left the tree line to go back to Grimm. Her throat was hurtin her, making it hard for her to swallow. She pulled some herbs from the pouch at her side and placed them in her mouth. "The work must be getting to me." She layed back in the grass and closed her eyes.

Visions of her childhood came back to her. She remembered running out to see her horse. White as the whitest cloud and as gentle as gentle could be. Cree thought she had drifted off to sleep but she opened her eyes just in time to see Avalon jump on her stomach. "OUCH! Avalon why? Grimm isn't life sweet. What I would give to be able to go to sleep and be able to dream of home? Instead I can close my eyes and suddenly the smell of the nearby flowers rememing me of Eryn Lasgalen. I miss Pixie. He was one of the fastest horses in Eryn Lasgalen. I had to leave him behind." Cree rubbed her stomach to make sure her side wasn't going to start hurting again.

"I'm lucky she didn't cause my side to hurt again." Cree looked skornfully at Avalon. Her eyes seemed to almost change colors but it was the way the light hit them. Cree sat back and let out a laugh. "I'm fine. Actually I believe I've healed better than a tree can possibly wish to. At least we don't have to worry about it bleeding all of a sudden for no reason." Cree smiled at Grimm as she pushed her hair away from her face and behind her ears.
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Aduthondiel
Aduthondiel looked up and saw Crystal talking to Hama. She had wanted to go talk to him but didn't. She stood up ad walked over to the two. "Crystal." Aduthondiel nodded her head. "I'm sorry about the other night." She looked up to meet Hama's eyes.
In the background she could hear Count. "I hope everything is fine with you and Mr..... Angry is it? Well I'm going to be sending Count back with your necklace. He knows his way around." She turned around to look at her black horse. The star in the middle of his head seemed whiter than ever. Count was always the best horse I have ever had. He will be the best one I have. Horses should be taken care of. He's the one thing that reminds me of Rohan.

[Crystal Heart]

Crystal smiled brightly at her new friend. These people were trying everything in their possible capabilities to make sure that she could live in peace and happiness with Mr. Angry Brandybuck, the hobbit that she had fallen in love with.

"I thank you for your kindness. How can I ever repay you?" Crystal asked. She hoped that she could do something for her. It was so amazing how people that didn't even know the true soul of Crystal Heart were rallying together, against the General Dorian from Rohan, to make sure that she was safe and could live her life. A life without fear, without sadness, without grief. A life without all the torments that she had been put through.

These people were far kinder then any others that she had found in her entire life. She was proud to say that she knew such people, people with true virtues of kindess.

Even more she was more grateful for the fact that she would be able to have the chance at finding out where this new love with Angry would go. She would have to dodge around his parents, get accepted by the people that had raised him but she was unworried. Their lives were bound to be together. It was thing that she believed was a work of fate. She had faith that it would all come together.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Hawthorne had spent the better part of the day helping Regin and the others gather the large rocks that they would need to finish off the fireplace in the Common Room. She had been in charge of driving the pony cart back to the Inn once the boulders were all loaded into the rear of the wagon. But she had also done her fair share of lifting and hauling. Her arms and shoulders ached, but the feeling was not unpleasant or overbearing. It was merely a constant reminder of the hard work they were doing.

In the course of all this lifting and lugging, she had discovered that she did have one special talent. Since Hawthorne was the only hobbit regularly assigned to rock hauling duty, Regin invariably turned to her to dig out those boulders that were deeply embedded in the dirt. Descended from long generations of hobbits who dug down and tunnelled into the ground to make their homes, Hawthorne could do this job better than any of the others, even those folk much larger than herself.

Regin had given the crew a break, making them promise they would come back in a few hours to continue their chores. Overjoyed to have a few moments to spend on her special project, Hawthorne had quickly disappeared down the road, headed for a wooded grove that lay about a mile distant. An hour later, she re-emerged on the grounds of the Inn, carrying baskets and pails spilling over with more of the plants and small bushes she would need.

She had built the beds up high as Samwise had advised her to do, and enclosed them with a wattle fence. She had organized the small garden in the best way that she could: one section for medicinal herbs; another for kitchen and seasoning agents, and the final section for small vegetable and salad plants. This garden had a far different purpose than the gay flowers that graced the beds directly in front of the Dragon, which another guest had recently planted.

Today she had been looking for medicinal herbs. Her arms were ladden down with an assortment of different plants: Liquorice, comfrey, St. John's wort, feverfew, garlic, Hollyhock, valeria, echenacea, and jewelweed, the latter of which was so effective against skin irritations caused by poisonous plants. For the next hour, Hawthorne worked on planting the tiny seedlings, making sure they were well watered and there were no weeds in the beds.

She had just finished her chore and was hoping to pick up something to eat when she heard Regin ringing the Inn's new bell, the sign that they should gather again for rock hauling duty. Dusting the dirt off her hands and skirts, she pushed her curls behind her ears and ran out to where the workers were gathering.

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

Even the mention of the small hobbit made Snaveling’s flesh burn, but with an effort of will he controlled the pain. Toby saw his quick intake of breath and the grimace that contorted his features, and regretted having brought up the topic. Snaveling pulled himself to his feet, and using the stable wall for support replied to Toby’s question. “How should I know who he is?” he snapped. “This is your country not mine! Frankly, I’m amazed that there’s anyone in this…place you don’t know. Isn’t he your cousin’s wife’s half-brother or something?” Snaveling paused when he saw the look of outrage in Toby’s eye. He did not really care that he had offended the little fellow – but then again he was not altogether comfortable that he had done so either. Snaveling shook his head, trying to recover his usual demeanor. Another week here and I’ll be as ridiculously sentimental as this halfling! he told himself to steel his mood.

“I don’t know who he is,” he said more politely, “but I intend to find out.” Snaveling stepped toward the stable doors and then paused, before turning to Toby. It cost him greatly but he finally managed to say, “I would appreciate your help, Master Hornblower. I suspect that the little fellow might be more comfortable speaking to me with one of his own people around.” For the second time that day (and year) he attempted a smile, and while it once more looked more like a grimace than anything Toby would associate with joy, it was somewhat healthier for the practice it had received. Toby returned the look with genuine surprise and jumped up after the Man. “I’d be delighted to lend a hand, Mister Snaveling,” he said. “I want to find out what’s going on around here as much as you do!”

“It’s not ‘Mister’,” Snaveling said.

“Eh?” Toby’s brow furrowed.

“My name. It’s not ‘Mister’ Snaveling; just Snaveling” Snave, they called me once.

“Oh,” the halfling replied with genuine surprise. “Most folk just call me Toby, so I don’t see why you shouldn’t do the same. It takes less time when asking to pass the salt, my old father used to say.” Snaveling did not know what to make of this and did not try. Are food and comfort the only things these people ever think about?. He shook his head in wonderment.

Together Snaveling and Toby left the stables by small side door in order to avoid Galadel, Roa and Valthalion who were talking together outside the main gate. As they moved away from the stables, Snaveling heard Roa’s laugh from across the yard, and he scowled. I don’t know how, yet, but that Woman is responsible for what’s happening to me somehow. He did not let himself think about his actions in the cellar, nor how those might be connected to his situation as well.

It did not take them long to find the small hobbit. He was scurrying out of the Inn with an armload of scrap wood and looking for the world like a frenzied mouse returning to its nest with winter’s bedding. Snaveling had prepared himself for this meeting, but the instant he set eyes on the hobbit he knew it was going to be difficult. The burning beneath his skin intensified and threatened once more to overwhelm him, but the air of Galadel’s herbs in his lungs, and the memory of her song in his mind were enough to quell the worst of his reaction. Still he had to swallow hard before he could speak to the halfling.

“Excuse me,” he began in the politest manner he could, “but I need to ask you a few questions.” The hobbit stopped dead in his tracks and did not say a word. He was extremely small, and almost exactly like a rabbit in the way that he looked at the Man with alarm and nervous energy. For a moment it even looked as though he might flee, but Toby asked him his name. Being addressed by a fellow hobbit seemed to calm him, and he said that his name was Fordogrim Bolger.

“Well, bless me,” Toby said, “I’m on exceedingly good terms with the Bolgers. Brewers of some of the finest ale in the Four Farthings! Do you know Bandoboras Bolger…?” Snaveling was content to let the hobbits ramble on. He examined Fordogrim with interest, trying to determine why this little chap should cause him such discomfort. The burning was returning and he knew that he would soon have to flee. For some reason, his mind turned to the purse of gold that he had stolen, and at that moment his nightmare threatened to return with full force. He staggered back a step and would have fallen, but something the small hobbit was saying to Toby caught his attention. He held on to the sentence like a still point of surety and used it to balance himself.

Toby had apparently asked Fordogrim what had brought him to the Green Dragon Inn. At this, the hobbit fetched a huge sigh and replied, “Ah me. I had come here to do some business. I was going to pay in advance for a year’s supply of hops from a few of the farmers up in Hobbiton. But that fire has ruined me. I lost all my gold in that Inn.”

Snaveling staggered toward the hobbit, grasping him by the arm and glaring into his eyes with such ferocious intensity that the poor little fellow let out a squeal of fright. Fordogrim had hardly even seen a Man, and had certainly never been accosted by one as grim and severe and Snaveling looked now. With the last of his energy, Snaveling choked out, “Your purse…was it made of calf-skin? With red thread and a short black cord to close it?”

“Yes,” Fordogrim said with equal parts terror and amazement. “It was precisely like that. Have you seen it?”

Snaveling staggered forward and fell to his knees. “Yes,” he said, “I stole it from your room” his head swam and his vision grew dark. He held on to the shreds of his consciousness and pointed across the yard to where Galadel, Roa and Valthalion were talking. “Go to those people and tell them what I’ve said. They have your purse.”

Drawing himself to his feet, Snaveling ran back to the stables, ignoring the surprised calls of his companions and threw himself onto his makeshift bed.

[rutslegolas]

Harold Brandybuck was stout and short looking hobbit with a big beard out of the liitle village located south of the Southfarthing.He was known in his village of his excellent carpentering skills.He was a regular visitor at the Green Dragon Inn coming atleast twice a week to have a beer or two.

When he heard of the fire in the Inn he came in the afternoon on his short pony henry,to lend a hand to repair the Inn.He went straight to work once he got in lending his hand to repair some tables and chairs in the common room which were destroyed by the fire.

After work he got some soup out of the pot and had a beer and chatted a bit with the old Gamgee about the new leaf being grown in the Southfarthing,he even gave the old Gamgee some of his own home grown leaf.
He was just sitting chatting with Gamgee and having his beer when buttercup cam to him.

[piosenniel]

Newcomers to the Inn

Please note the Inn Facts at the top of the page. They will clue you in to what is going on.

Before you post, please also read a number of the posts previous to yours so that you will get the flavor of what other characters are doing.

Look HERE (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showthread.php?s=&threadid=5629&perpage=40&pagenumber=10) to read the previous posts.
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Brief Synopsis

About a week ago, game time, there was a devastating fire at the Inn. The structure was destroyed, and now the workers at the Inn and the villagers and patrons of the Green Dragon are lending their skills to rebuild it.

The foundation stonework is being redone, as is the framing for the main structure of the Inn.

Items are being salvaged as possible, new tables and chairs are being built, shingles for the roof are being fashioned. There is a cooking fire in the yard, and food is being made there for the workers. Tents have been set up, and some folk are staying in the stable.

Come in and lend a hand.

~*~ Piosenniel, Shire Moderator

[Witch_Queen]

Aduthondiel
Crystal if you really had known me you would see the real reason why I'm not going to return to your father. "Crystal I'm no saint. Hama can tell you that." Aduthondiel wanted to sound sarcastic but she knew it came out in a harsh tone. "There are many things none know about me that is except for you father. Yet I have seen that not all men are evil. General Dorian is an evil man. No one should have to suffer the way I have, not even my worse enemies."

Aduthondiel looked down at the ground. Her own words were coming back to her. All those years of hate was finally catching up with her. She was going to get what she deserved. Aduthondiel didn't know whether to take the opportunity she was given or to let it pass her by. I never get what I have long time wanted. I'm always going to be alone in this world. General Dorian saw to it. "Growing up I was always told that there is something some demon inside people that make them evil. Yet all those years with your father Crystal has taught me something. Something so evil can spawn a person that is so pure and good at heart."

Aduthondiel didn't want to try to become friends with the girl. She only hurt those around her. Thats how it was since the day she left her home in Eryn Lasgalen. Always running from those who only wanted to become her friend. Not anymore. I must face my fears. From this day on I won't let what he's done to me affect me in any way.
"A soul of water,
A soul of stone.
A soul by name,
A soul unknown.
The hours unmake
Our flesh, our bone.
The soul is all;
And all alone."
Aduthondiel looked up to the sky, every single cloud seemed to tell its own story. A story of creation and destruction. "For that is what it actually means to live. First creation and last of all we have destruction. The everlasting circle that plagues every single one of us. The inn itself was a living creature in its own form. The circle begins again."

[Fool Of A Took]

Grimm smiled to Cree as she remembered him about the night they two met. It felt just as it was yesterday they met. He leaned back and pictures came back to him from that night. "I am really glad I met you, Cree" he said and turned to Cree again. Pulled back his hair that now almost covered his whole face and stretched out his tired body on the lawn. It felt like his muscles was going to explode. His legs felt like they weight hundreed tons and his back was hurt. Cree took his hand and smiled. He smiled to her.

Suddenly she rose up and ran away. Grimm got confused and ran after her. Is her curse hurting her again? He ran after her and she could see she stopped by a tree and leaned to it and choked. "Are you alright?" he puffed Cree as he catched up to her. She shook her face and choked. She leaned against the tree but slowly began to slide down the tree trunk. He took a sturdy grip around her and lifted her up again. He could abrely see anything, his eyes was totally blurred of tears.

He layed her on the ground and shook her shoulders. "Cree? Cree!? Can you hear me?" It looked like she had fainted but he could see in her eyes that she was in pain. "No!" he shouted and hit his fist in the ground.He laid his head to her chest and tears began to fall down his cheeks. It will be alright, she will be fine, his mind kept tellin him but he felt so sad for her, and that curse that never let her rest.

Avalon came flying and landed on her stomach and jumped up and down. Grimm looked up and rubber away all the tears from his eyes so he could see properly. Cree began to move and slowly opened her eyes. Grimm jumped up and smiled. She smiled to him and he helped her up. "I won't let anything happen to you!" he said and hugged her. He sat down again and Cree sat down too. He looked at all the people around, they looked tired. This was a hard time for many, but at the moment things were going better, and now a dwarf helped them and a Shirriff from Hobbiton had arrived too. Fredmar or Fredgar his name was, Grimm couldn't remember which it was.

He turned back to Cree and smiled, his eyes was still wet of tears and Avalon sat beside them and looked at them. "I am so happy you are alright. Maybe you can come with me to Rohan some day." He smiled to her again and leanead back against a tree.

[Nirvana II]

Up out of Longbottom came Carl. He was a young hobbit, being still in his tweens. He had been with his cousin Hildi for a month breeding Pipe-weed (it is said she was a descendant of Old Toby himself). Her cousin Pippin Took had come from lands of Big-folk away South by the uncouth names of Gondor and Rohan. They were breeding what the Gondorians called sweet galenas with Southern Star, Old Toby and Longbottom Leaf. Many attempts had failed, but the ones that were successful were dubbed later "Gondorian Pride".

Carl came for lodgings at the Green Dragon not too long after. The Inn being destroyed by a fire was still in need of rebuilding. Carl lent all his masonry skill to lay the foundation. while taking a break an old gaffer asks him for some leaf. Carl gladly gives him and his mates some of his Pride. He didnt offer any to Grimm of the Mark, as he was shire born. The moment they inhale they were asking where did he get this? They called for Aman and got Carl to give some of his Pride to all in the inn.

Later that day Carl Brandybuck was the talk of Hobbiton and Bywater. "I credit it to my cousin Peregrin Took and Hildi Hornblower," saying "a few suitable words" he was invited to stay at Bag End, but refused. " The tents are perfectly alright, thank you," he replied correctly. All day he labored for rebuilding the Inn, building new furniture and laying the foundations, but always people asking "Where did you get this?". His stock of Pride was growing low, so he planned to later go back to Longbottom and return with more of the Pride.

[Roa_Aoife]

Roa wasn't half-way back to the construction when a small voice called her back. I will never finish my work today, she thought irritably. So much for making up for Snaveling. Roa turned around to see the hobbit fellow from earlier running towards her. Galadel was already walking toward him. Roa sighed and did the same. She smiled wearily as he approached.

"Are you friends with that man over there?" said the hobbit, almost shaking with nervousness. Roa looked to where he pointed. Snaveling was rising to his feet and moving quickly to the stables. Friends? Why not... "Yes, yes we are. How may we help you?" Roa answered. From her angle she could see that Snaveling was not in serious danger, though Galadel, who had remained silent, had a bemused smile on her face. Roa wondered what this hobbit had to say.

"That man and the gentle-hobbit with him asked what my business was at the Inn, and it turns out that the gentle-hobbit knew a cousin of mine..." Roa let him ramble on for a moment. He seemed nervous as it was, and she knew that nervous people tended to talk too much. She tried to be patient, but after a moment she cut him off. "Excuse me, Mister Bolger, but I have a great deal of work to do, so could you please get to the point?" The poor hobbit looked quite startled and moved back a foot. "I lost a purse of gold in the fire, and that man said you had it."

Roa nearly reeled in shock. She leaned down and grabbed the hobbit's arm. "He did what?" Mister Bolger looked ready to faint. This was the second Big-person today to do such a thing, and while Roa was not so grim looking as Snaveling, she was still a fierce sight, and so much bigger. Galadel gently pulled her back.

"Forgive us, master hobbit, we were not expecting such a turn of events," she said gently. Mister Bolger calmed down a bit. "Could you describe the bag for us?" And he did, down to the very last detail. Roa calmed down as well, but she was still in shock. She could not believe that one such as Snaveling would, or even could, give over the bag. He had been so intent on having it. What had caused the change? "Wait here," she comanded. Quickly, she strode over to Valthalion.

The young man had been faithful in guarding the bag. Not a single piece of gold had been lost. Mister Bolger thanked Valthalion repeatedly as he gave over the bag. "Give me your name, sir, and I will see to it that you are always welcome among my kin." Valthalion assured him that it was not nescessary, but gave his name anyway. The hobbit nearly wept for pure joy as he walked away. Galadel went back to her work as Valthalion and Roa walked back together. They parted ways, and Roa drove into her task again. It was not yet noon, and already the day had been to long. What else could happen in one day?

[Witch_Queen]

"I am so happy you are alright. Maybe you can come with me to Rohan some day." The words went straight to Cree's heart. She nodded and layed back into the grass. The world she had loved had turned against her, yet now it had given her the one person to care about, Grimm. Cree looked up at Grimm to see what she thought were tears in his eyes. She placed her finger under one of the tear drops and caught it.

"Dear Grimm there is no reason to be sad. I would love to go to Rohan some day. From what I've heard from both you and Hama it is a lovely place. Perhaps I can find me a good horse. One that I won't be forced to abandon." Cree dropped her gaze to the grass beside her. When she looked up again one single tear rolled down her cheek. "Now that you have shed a tear I have too. I hate to see you so sad. Please tell me what scares you? If there is something I could do to get rid of this horrible curse I would. I have tried everything and yet I still have it. Some one must have really hated me or my parents to do something like this to me." Cree's voice began to change sound, she was no longer happy like before. Her eyes were no longer grey, they had become a blue.

She began to sense the change in her voice and eyes. "I am sorry." It didn't matter how much she wanted to sound sincer she couldn't. Tears began to roll down her cheek more rapidly. "What have I done?" Cree leaned on Grimm. "What have I done?"

[piosenniel]

Buttercup

‘Who is that Hobbit over there?’ said Buttercup, pointing with the soup ladle to where a young Hobbit stood, a group of lads his own age and older gathered round him. They all had their pipes in hand, all taking a break from the work on the Inn.

‘That is Carl Brandybuck of Whitwell,’ returned Ruby, as she scraped her platter of diced potatoes and carrots into the soup.

The smell of pipeweed drifted over from the group, and Buttercup sniffed it appreciatively. She couldn’t quite place the enticing aroma – not Southlinch from Bree or Southern Star, she thought. She sniffed again – and not Old Toby, either. This was a new smell . . . and very pleasant . . .

‘Where are you going?’ Ruby cried after her, as Buttercup gathered up her skirts and started off toward the group of lads.

Buttercup picked up a tray, and putting a number of mugs on it, filled them all with foaming ale. ‘I’m going over to meet this Mr. Carl Brandybuck,’ she said, flashing a smile to Ruby. ‘And if I’m lucky, you and I can share a little of that glorious pipeweed for our evening smoke.’ Tray held aloft, Buttercup sauntered over to where the smoke was thickest.

‘Anyone care for a pint?’ she called out . . .

[Fool Of A Took]

Grimm looked up at Cree as she shed a tear too. He tried to smile to her, but he couldn't, it wasn't the right moment for smiling he felt. "You have done nothing wrong." he said and stroke her on her cheek. Now he forced a smile on his face. "Don't cry... The only things that scares me is...." Grimm paused and stared down at the green grass in the ground. He stroke his hand over the grass. It felt just like the grass on the plains of Rohan. He sighed and looked up again.

"...The thing that scares me is that I will lose you. That you will die.." His voice faded away as he said the last word. He touched her cheek again and said "But you will not die, I will not let that happen." Now he smiled again.

If she died, Grimm would be sorry forever. He couldn't stand more death and pain. He hated it, it was so unnecessary. Yet there was much pain and death all over the world. Grimm put his head in his hands and closed his eyes and sighed. I shouldn't be so sad.

He rose up and said "Are you hungry, Cree?" He looked at Cree and then turned to Avalon "And you Avalon?" he said and grinned. "I am starving, for my part." he said and smiled. "How about having a good meal?" The hunger in his stomach had came now as he rested for a while.

[Kransha]

Toby Hornblower, the confused, annoyed, and now furious elder hobbit, scurried away like some rabid rodent with an eye for cruel vengeance. He sprinted as fast as short legs could carry him away from the small hobbit, who’d sent himself swiftly in the opposite direction, and towards the Green Dragon stable grounds. A new and pleasing smell, reminiscent of Longbottom Leaf, wafted through his rapidly sniffing nose and beneath his flaring nostrils, but he was too furious and bewildered to care about the seductive scent that, in any other situation, would’ve had him floating towards its point of origin.

“What in the Southfarthing was that all about?” He roared, more in anger than in query, as he bolted like very small and unstable lightning through the stable opening and towards the makeshift cot that was set up for Snaveling at the other end. “Are you insane?” he bellowed, in the biggest and most commanding tone of voice he could muster, “You’ve ruined us! Worse yet, you’ve ruined me! What addled thought could possibly have been going through your thick skull when you said that?” He paused for a moment, his face bright red, his eyes narrowed in extreme irritation, and his ears and nose practically pouring forth an enraged steam that seemed to drift in an aura around his small, ovular head.

Tobias Hornblower raised a hand, with index finger extended, almost scolding the man twice his size. He continued, trying in vain to control the emotion. All of his hobbit’s innocence had evaporated, leaving only a cold hard fury at having this man, who he thought to be more adept at thieving and lying than he, break down before him. Surely Galadel and Roa would guess what had happened, as cunning as they were, and he would be found out. The weakness of Snaveling had condemned both him and his accomplice.

“What purpose had you in that? Make all clear immediately, Snaveling, or I will unveil your foul actions to all without hesitation. Speak now!” His voice managed to lower. He finally realized the quality of the words he was spewing so carelessly. One hobbit should never challenge such a man, as his father had told him. But it was said, and he still desired an answer, or he would go through with what he had said he would. Toby stood firm, stable on his own two feet, in front of Snaveling. It had finally come to his attention that Snaveling didn’t look entirely well, though he couldn’t tell in earnest because the taller man was turned away from him.

[Ebonymist]

Footsteps could be heard some brief distance to the left of the two -man and hobbit alike- as a newcomer stride into view.
No... make that two newcomers, on second thought; one was on horseback. The other led the steed, reins grasped tight in her fist.
The latter arrival was a woman of perhaps thirty years, a human by the look of her, tall for her gender and with the well-muscled phisique of one not unused to the stables, an aspect heightened by the fact that she wore riding leathers rather than the traditional skirts or gown. Her shoulder-length hair was bound up behind her head with a strip of black-dyed suede- and that hair, though she seemed not yet past the flower of her youth, was the color of steel. Not the dull gray that comes with age, but a brilliant metallic hue that caught what light there was and threw it back like a thousand tiny wires. Her head was turned from the two at present, as she was speaking to her companion.
The compatriot in question was clearly male- and for all his female friend's height, he was taller still. Were he standing upon the ground rather than perched upon his mount, he might have peaked nearly seven feet. Outfitted from neck to toe in a traveling cloak of charcoal gray, trimmed in blue, he was whipcord-lean, nearly thin enough to gain the term 'emaciated'. His skin held a corpselike pallidity to it; indeed, in places the whiteness was tinged with blue. His features were too thin and sharp to be considered handsome, framed by a mane of hair as dark as night itself. This mop was bound back into a simple horsetail. His eyes, as could be seen by the angle of his head, were as narrow and sharp as surgical steel. Their color only added to his strange demeanor, for they were a deep amber, overlaid with a distinct orange cast.

Having entered the stables, the two were now close enough to catch the heated conversation between Toby and Snaveling. Their own conversation stopped instantly as both pairs of eyes -unnerving orange-gold offset by mild green- turned toward them.
The woman set her jaw, reminding herself that it would be impolite to jump to conclusions. Not to mention foolish. But having heard the tail end of Toby's outburst, she couldn't help but be a trifle annoyed.
Such was, after all, her nature.
A soft thump behind her, followed by a hand resting itself on her shoulder, detracted the woman's attention before she could open her mouth to demand just what they were about. She glanced behind her, craning her neck up to view her odd companion, who was eyeing the two with a mild interest that bordered on ennui. Sighing, he spoke- and his voice was just as strange as the rest of him: hissing, barely above a whisper, like the winter wind blowing through the fallen leaves of autumn.
"Are we... interrupting anything?"

[SonOfBombadil]

Lewis walked away from the building foundation and everything that was being erected and looked back on it. They had made much ground over the week, and things were starting to look up at the inn.

He looked over to the tree line,and saw Ravon sitting there. She had been sorting through stuff all morning and looked tired. He was ready for a break too, after working most of the morning. "Would you like something to eat, Ravon? It's been a while since I've had anything to eat, and I was going to go and find something."

[Kransha]

Toby Hornblower spun around, a look of supreme indignation souring his already murderous face. His rat-like nose twitched oddly as his expression wrinkled into a grimace. He was already furious at Snaveling, and now to be interrupted at random by some passerby, it was too much for the gentlehobbit. Tobias quivered in place, shaking and seething. His skin’s red tinge deepened alarmingly as his hazel colored eyes narrowed and seemed to be shrouded by a crimson veil. He looked at the two folk before him and his rage grew, his face becoming almost livid. The expression in their eyes, though a subtle nuance, infuriated him further as he focused his ever-shrinking pupils upon them.

“Interrupting anything!?” the raspy, gruff pitch of his stiff baritone voice shot up into a higher range as he barely avoided shrieking at the man who’d addressed him, “Yes, I do believe you are interrupting something! What sort of question is that? Is there something you want? If not, do not linger in my company, for my tolerance has lessened considerably of late. If there is naught that you require from me or my companion, get you gone from here and do not interfere with my business!”

The hobbit, who stood several heads shorter than the two people he was grimacing at, took a deep breath through his flaring nostrils and relaxed himself as much as he could in this condition. His reddened face began to drain of color as he realized that he’d made another blunder. His chest, constricted by the narrow gait of the gaudy green vest he was wearing, heaved up and down slowly as the elder Hornblower composed himself.

“Forgive me,” he said meekly, looking down at the stable floor and fumbling for a valid excuse for that outburst “I am not in the best of moods at present…I’m not entirely sure what came over me, in truth. You see, an undesirable streak of rotten luck has dogged me, this past week, and it has put me off, so to speak.”

[Ebonymist]

The gray-cloaked man, having listened expressionlessly to the elder hobbit’s tirade, never even flinched during the yelling spate nor the subsequent apology. The only sign that he had even heard what the halfling had to say was an odd glow in the depths of his amber-orange eyes, a subtle flickering of some dangerous inner fire.

That expression, coupled with a single step forward, made him seem far less congenial than he had a moment ago; indeed, one might wonder whether or not he wouldn’t simply cut the poor hobbit down on the spot- the movement he had just enacted had dislodged a corner of his cloak, revealing the hilt of a blade nearly as long as your average Shire-dweller was tall. At least, it seemed that way judging from the hilt, seeing as its sheath was still concealed.

He might have advanced even further, save that the steel-haired lady beside him siezed his arm in an effort to restrain him, casting a look of rebuke toward his face. It was a glance that said, in no uncertain terms, that there would be dire ramifications if her looming companion took one more step toward poor Toby.

“Vondros,” she hissed at him, her eyes narrowing dangerously. “Don’t you dare.”

Reluctantly, he released his grip upon the sword, allowing his cloak to fall back over the weapon.

One crisis averted, the woman turned back to Snaveling and the elder Hornblower. She bowed slightly, her tone turning from acerbic to kindly in the time it took to draw breath. “Forgive my confederate. As you may have noticed, he is rather lacking in” -she shot another, rather wry, look at him- “social graces. I ask you not to blame him. He has not had contact with many in a vein not associated with warfare in...” She paused, trying to find the proper term, “a very long time.” Again the slight bow, just enough to indicate polite greetings. “If our presence truly is a bother to you, then we will take our leave once we have shown his mount proper housing.” She returned her grip to the aforesaid mount’s reins; the Appaloosa stomped once but otherwise made no move to protest. “I’m Morrigna,” she added mildly. “Morrigna Falconhand. The gentleman that threatened you is-”

”Vondros don Thorg,” the youth replied -if youth he was, for in truth, though his face was smooth and unlined, something in his eyes suggested differently-, his tone lacking any hint of inflection other than boredom. A slight mocking flavor was added to his next statement as he glanced sidelong at the two before him. “At your service.”

With this, he folded his arms in front of his chest, eyeing his feminine compatriot with curiosity, waiting to see what she would do next. The movement added a note of intrigue to the mix, for his right index finger bore upon it a faint blemish. A scar, it looked like; a perfect band such as a ring or similar might make, encircling the digit. But where would he get such a mark?
And what was it that should rest upon the scarred area but did not?
------------------------------------------------------------------------

[Regin Hardhammer]

Done, he thought to himself with an air of satisfaction and pride. After he finished, Regin Hardhammer took a step back to admire his work. For the past few hours Regin had withdrawn himself from the public eye to a reclusive tent where he prepared his gift for the Dragon’s reopening. He had felt a bit guilty taking time out of overseeing the reconstruction of the Inn in order to finish his special project, but he reasoned that the item itself would be a grand gift for the reopening of the Inn. Won’t they all be surprised when I unveil it? he smirked to himself. Now all of the Green Dragon folk would see just where his true talents lay!

Crash went a wooden beam, and broke with a crack so loud that even Regin heard it with clarity, despite his distance from the Inn building. As Regin rushed out, leaving his gift hidden in a chest inside the tent, he saw two young male hobbits and a splintered piece of lumber between them. The other Dwarf, Fungrim, went over to assist the hobbits as Regin came towards them. Very agitated, Regin was about to unleash a tirade chastising the young Hobbits when Fungrim intervened.

“Come now Regin, I’m sure the Hobbits didn’t do it on purpose.”
The pair of hobbits nodded their heads vigorously with an expression of obvious relief.

Regin relented, “Yes, I suppose not, but young hobbits do seem to have a talent for destroying things. Breaking, burning....they have mastered them all. Oh, very well. Off with you then.” The pair ran off as quickly as if they had seen a nazgul, and nearly as shaken.

After another hour of work, Regin smelled something he had not smelled in quite some time. A whiff of pipe tobacco punctured the pleasant afternoon breeze. It did not have the scent of any tobacco he had smoked before; the aroma was like dew-covered daisies bathed in the morning light. Quickly, Regin searched for the source of this wonderful aroma. He found it coming from a hobbit, someone Regin had never seen before. His experience with hobbits had often been a mixed bag, but Regin had a feeling he would like this one. He approached the hobbit as he was hammering a board in place.

“Excuse me young sir but I do not recall ever seeing you and wish to introduce myself. My name is Regin Hardhammer and I am in charge of this rebuilding process. I am very grateful for your help in the project, and hope that you stay for a while for the rebuilding party after the completion of the Inn. I have not smoked quality weed for an extremely long time, for these days it is very hard to come by, especially on the road. I do not know the name of the blend you have, but it smells delightful. May I relieve you of a portion, only a pipe full perhaps?"

[piosenniel]

Nirvana II

Do not put any further posts in the Green Dragon Inn.

You need to read your PM’s; write a post for your character; then PM it to me for review.

Any further posts from you in the Inn will be deleted.

~*~ Piosenniel, Shire Moderator

[piosenniel]

Buttercup

Buttercup wound her way through the crowd in the yard with a tray of ale filled mugs on a tray held high above her head with one hand. Rebuilding the Inn was thirsty work, and many were the smiles she got as she brought to the laborers resting in the field.

That smell again teased her nose. Some sort of pipe-weed she just couldn’t quite place. Like a hound sniffing out the trail of an elusive coney, she followed the scent and found the source. There, sitting with the gaffer, was one of the local lads. Harold Brandybuck – an ale in one hand and a pipe in the other.

The gaffer waved at Buttercup as she drew near. She plunked a fresh half pint in front of him, noting he too had a pipeful of the good smelling pipeweed. ‘Oh my!’ she exclaimed, taking another whiff of the smoke. ‘I’ve never smelled anything like it.’ She looked at Harold, smiling broadly. ‘What’s it called,’ she asked. Then, sitting herself down with the both of them asked if she might try a little . . .

[Witch_Queen]

Cree
"Food sounds good, it seems like ages since I last ate."Cree stood up, the tears had stopped and she knew she had someone to care about her. "Thank you Grimm, thank you for everything." He's worried that I will die? Why? I can only convince myself that this is only a phase in life. That I'm not "cursed" She couldn't remember the last time she had someone who cared about her. Her voice was back to its sweet sound, she had nothing to worry about now. Everything was going to be fine. Life would turn out to be as sweet as Abarat had told her. The only true friend I had growing up. Yet the same thing happened to him... death. Is all those who care for me doomed to death? NO! I mustn't think of that at the moment.

Cree began straightening out her cloak, which had already turned black from the ashes she had been sorting through. "Grimm I'm glad I met you." Cree heard a screech come from the ground behind her. Avalon was looking up at her. The gaze from Avalon sent chills down Cree's back. "And you too, Avalon. I don't know where I would be without you. Well I probably have left these lands. Yet I'm glad I didn't. Now shall we get something to eat. I feel as if I've been starving all my life." Cree let out a smirk and held out her fist. Avalon jumped up and landed on Cree's shoulder. The birds talons clung tight to her skin. It was a matter of time before she knew her shoulder would bleed again.

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

It took Snaveling about three seconds to decide that he wanted nothing to do with the two strangers who had accosted Toby and himself. The woman was of a type all too familiar to him. He had found one like her in every village and camp he had visited in the years that lay between the Shire and his homeland: quick to judge and soon to speak in matters that did not concern her. As to the tall, corpse-like fellow at her side…Snaveling knew that this was a person it would be safest to keep well clear of, at least until the people who seemed to be in charge of the Inn spoke to him about proper manners in this land.

Snaveling was surprised by Toby’s outburst, but he was getting used to the halfling’s odd behaviour, and he knew how upset Toby was at the loss of the gold. While Toby was railing at the strangers, Snaveling slunk through the shadows and out the small side door. As he passed out into the sun, he felt a twinge of conscience at abandoning his…do I really think of him as my “friend” now?!…but if Toby did not have the good sense to avoid such people, then be it on his head. He moved away from the stables with a determined step, but then paused for a moment and looked back. He thought for a moment, stroking his small amulet abstractedly. Toby’s words came back to him: “What purpose had you in that? Make all clear immediately, Snaveling, or I will unveil your foul actions to all without hesitation. Speak now!” He shook his head and, cursing under his breath, stamped away from the stables once more as though he were kicking the ground in anger.

Snaveling was not particularly concerned by Toby’s threats; if people were to begin casting blame there was more than enough to spread between the two of them. Besides, judging from the behaviour of Fordogrim he doubted that the little chap would ever make an official complaint against them, just so long as he could get his gold back. But Toby’s question haunted him. Snaveling gripped his amulet until his knuckles turned white. He had confessed to the theft because he had known – somehow – that it was what he had to do. The pain of the burning in his skin had been horrific, but Snaveling was willing to endure much for his own profit: it had been something else beyond that. He glared across the yard at Galadel. That she-Elf has done something to me with her spells, he thought. Made me as weak-minded and ridiculous as that fool Valthalion. Still, there had been some benefit to him from her magics – the pain of the burning had gone from his skin, and for the first time in a week he was able to take pleasure in the brightness of the sun and the warmth of the air. Still, there remained a profound sense of loss with regard to something – he followed a thought that eluded him. What had he lost? For a second, as though catching sight of something from out of the corner of his mind’s eye, there was a glimpse of a green place that he had known, but then it was gone. He tried to think of what it might be, but there was only a blank grey space where something else had once been. His heart sank once more as a nameless grief threatened to overwhelm him. He steeled his mind against the emotion. It’s just the gold, he told himself. Toby is right, you are a fool to have given it up.

Suddenly hungry, Snaveling moved toward the cooking fires hoping that perhaps the cooks had managed to roast one or two of the quail that he had brought them this morning. As he did so, however, he heard Roa’s clear laughter ring out in the afternoon sun. He looked over to where she and Valthalion were struggling to lift a heavy beam onto a pair of trestles. He paused, halfway between the Inn and the cooking fires, looking back and forth between the food and the labour. He took a step toward the fires, paused again, and then cursed, loudly. He spun on his heel and stormed toward Roa and Valthalion in a rage at himself.

Without uttering a word to either of them, he helped them wrestle the beam onto the trestles.

[Angel_Queen]

As Lewis approached her, Ravon looked up. It was good to finally see him after a week of working and no time to talk to anyone. "I would love to join you." She did her best to wipe away the ash on her face. She had been long at work since the fire from the previous week.

"So what will we be having?" She hadn't eaten in so long. She had been working hard. "It's good to finally take a break. I thought I would never get away from them." She could see Cree walking towards the food. She hadn't talked to her lately. "Lewis theres Cree, I haven't talked to her lately. Well she can wait."Ravon noticed the man beside Cree. "Rohan? I believe? She always had a way with men. Though she neve admitted to it. Oh well that was then. This is now."

[Fool Of A Took]

Grimm smiled to Cree and they began to walk against the stable where everyone that lived at the Inn stayed while it was being rebuilt. Inside the stable Grimm saw a hobbit cooking a stew with vegetables. As they got closer Grimm recognized the hobbit. It was Fredgar Hornblower, Shiriff of Hobbiton. He bowed to the Shirriff and smiled "G'day Shiriff Hornblower. Me and my dear friend here, Cree, are hungry. Could we have some of the stew you are cooking? Of course I can pay you for it." The hobbit looked up and smiled as he saw them. "No, no, dont worry! It's for free to everyone. Many are hungry and tired so everyone deserves a good meal."

He fumbled on the ground beside the big pot after two bowls and spoons. He handed them each bowl and spoon and served them some of the stew. "You got anything for Avalon here?" he said and grinned to the hobbit. Grimm pointed at the bird. The hobbit grinned and looked around himself for something. He hummed and digged after something in his pocket. He got up a small pouch of leather and handed it to Grimm. Grimm loosed the rope and opened it. It contained birdseed. "That's all I got that the bird could have" the Shiriff said. Grimm nodded and said "I understand, that will be fine, thank you!"

They walked outside again with the bowls with stew in their hands. They sat down on the lawn again outside and Grimm poured out the seed in the grass for Avalon. She flew directly to the seed and pecked it. He smiled to Avalon. He held up the bowl under his nose and smelled at it and closed his eyes. It smelled delicious. He took up his spoon and took a mouth of it. He hummed and said to Cree "It tasted wonderful, I have never been this hungry in my whole life" He grinned to Cree and then turned to his stew.

[Kransha]

“Indeed,” murmured the Halfling inwardly. He swept aside the small evergreen frock coat that was draped over his vest and small, narrow-gaited shoulders. He stepped forward, still looking slightly nervous as his sharp eyes continually shot poisonous glances at the item that dangled from the new man’s side, now concealed beneath his garments. Executing a concise bow, he addressed the two of them politely, though the pleasantry that dripped from his voice was false for the most part. He was still too on edge to be genuinely pleasant towards anyone, and the tension within him had risen as he sensed some hostility from the man before him.

“Tobias Hornblower the Third, of Longbottom. Of course, most folk simply call me Toby.” He waved his cloak behind him with a slight flourish before he rose, staring more intently at the faces of the two, seemingly assessing every inch of their expression, “I am truly pleased to make your acquaintance, Miz Falconhand…and yours as well, Mister..umm…Thorg, was it? Yes, that was the name, correct? I do believe it was."

His thick eyebrow elevated gently and arched for a moment, but soon settled above his eye, drifting until the eyelid lowered and Toby’s look became wearier. He pulled his cloak around him again and stepped back, shaking some stable debris from the leathery sole of his left foot. Looking up again after a precise examination of his foot, he continued the statement, trying to force a smile to creep over his features and make him look at least slightly more presentable than he looked, with the ill frown upon his face.

“I do not in truth desire you to leave, Madam,” he said to Morrigna Falconhand, “That outburst you had the misfortune to witness was merely a tired and angry hobbit venting ill-begotten wroth gained in the past, it was no true reflection of my current feelings. This is not my inn, nor my stable, nor my property, and you may come and go upon it as you please. If anyone wishes you to vacate these grounds, it would be Miz Aman, the innkeeper, and I assure you she has a much more tolerant disposition than I, from what I know of her. Do what you will here at the Green Dragon. I’m positive you’re help in rebuilding this structure would be much appreciated by the folk around here.” After finishing his brief and ever-so-slightly overdramatic oration, Toby Hornblower curtly bowed a second time, merely nodding his head at the two, and added, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, my companion and I have some business to attend to.” He whirled around, preparing to continue his stern reprimand, only to find Snaveling’s cot unoccupied. His eyes scanned the whole stable in an instant, sweeping over the room like primitive optical radar, but he saw no sign of the shrouded man. His eyes shriveling into irritated slits once again, he turned back on his heels to face the newcomers yet again. He again tried to force a smile and failed miserably.

“It appears,” he said, trying to be pleasant but obviously very exasperated, “that the business I mentioned no longer requires attending to. Might I be so bold as to ask if you saw the aforementioned compatriot of mine run off somewhere while I was occupied? I fear he may be trying to escape me, for what reason I know not.”

[Ebonymist]

Vondros's eyes flicked to the side door, toward which he gestured with a bony arm. "I believe your... friend... left in that direction whilst we were conversing," he replied in lieu of Tobias's inquiry, and for the first time a flicker of emotion crossed his face: the corners of his mouth twitched, as though he meant to smile but had forgotten how over the course of years. "My apologies for the distraction."

Morrigna, during this converse, was busily stabling the horse -which was quite large, it might be mentioned, perhaps even enough to be considered a war-charger- and looked up briefly from her work, arching an eyebrow at the cloaked youth just outside the stall. Brushing her hands off on her leggings, she stepped out. "Well, that's taken care of," she remarked with an air of self-satisfaction. Her friend nodded his head once and half-turned, looking back out through the stables to the surrounding area.

"Then we should be moving on," he suggested quietly. "We did come here, I presume, to help rebuild- though I've never quite been sure of your motives." He chuckled under his breath, shaking his head.

It was not a particularly pleasent sound.

"Guess who I learned it from," Morrigna replied cheerily, tilting her head and grinning wolfishly. "You're one to talk. We've lost at least a handful of allies thanks to others who aren't as discreet as I would like about your identity." Now it was her turn to draw a cautioning look, but she just shrugged it off. "We're both remnants from the Third Age, nothing more," she commented in an undertone. "Why be ashamed of what you were?"

"Ashamed?" Vondros hissed back, his eyes widening in surprise. "Never that, but you know as well as I what happens when-" He stopped himself. "Not everyone is willing to accept such as I," he finished with dignity. "Not yet. Come." He swept an arm in the direction of the Inn. "Manual labor awaits."

[Marmadoc]

Kiyvan walked up the trail to the Green Dragon. But to his shock it was no longer standing, in its place was a handfull of workers appearing to be repairing the broken inn. As he got closer he lifted his dark hood to get a better look at his surrondings. The inn appeared to have held a large blaze in its bowls at one time.

Now at the former inn Kiyvan was willing to offer any help his human hands could lend to the workers. Laying his bow and sword to the ground Kiyvan looked around for the inn keeper to see if he could help.

[Kransha]

“Yes, of course…thank you.” Toby murmured this almost glibly as he turned swiftly and scurried out of the stable in the direction that Snaveling had most likely headed, as he deduced from the newcomer’s guesses. He was outside instantly, flitting like a carrion bird over the grounds towards the structural framework of the inn, where Snaveling was probably loitering. “Snaveling,” he cawed, continuing the strange bird-phase he was presently in, “Wherever you have run off to, do not think that avoiding me will help your case!” He continued dodging more nimbly past the many workers of the inn, being careful not to collide or make any physical contact with anyone.

After scanning the area with his eyes, which seemed now to be bursting from his pointed snout and skull, he came upon the visage of Snaveling, who was busy helping the process of a lifting a particularly imposing wooden beam with his back turned to the gentlehobbit. Tobias Hornblower caught passing glances of the man’s stern face as it turned sideways every few moments to inspect his own doings. Avoiding more workers, the hobbit ran right up to Snaveling and jabbed him indignantly in the back, simultaneously emitting a vulgar snorting noise. He didn’t even care that the thrust with his index finger had almost caused Snaveling to lose his grip on the beam.

“Snaveling, I demand a private audience with you immediately. You have eluded my reprimands long enough, and now you will hear them. Come, and we will discuss these things like gentlemen, unless you would prefer to explain your actions here and now, without delay! Be quick about your decision, Snaveling, for these events have made my well of patience run dry. Do not idly loiter here, for you know not the sting of a learned hobbit's words.”

Toby remained completely oblivious to the fact that Roa and Galadel were standing on either side of Snaveling, also assisting with the beam and clearly hearing his every word. Not quite comprehending that, Tobias tapped his large foot impatiently upon the ground, with a stern, lopsided grimace marring his expression.

[Crystal Heart]

Crystal watched as she realized that this person that had saved her, helped her was completely right. Life was all about beginnings and endings. Starts and finishes. Life and death. A certain amount of tradgey made someone truly realize that and if she had never said it to Crystal then she would never have thought about it.

The world was like a vast book that's pages were waiting to be written on by people's lives. Like a stage that would never end where the stories intertwined, some dying some staying until the very end. Others would out last the older ones because they had just begun. A never ending play.

She sat in silence, amazed at the truth of the woman's words.

[rutslegolas]

Buttercup wound her way around the regular lads and came with a tray full of freshly filled ale glasses and came to where Harold Brandybuck and the Gaffer were sitting,the smell of some new pipeweed attracted her.She served them new pints of ale and took a whiff of smoke and exclaimed and sat down with them.

Harold giving her some of his house grown pipeweed explained that he had not named the pipeweed but he thought it was "Gondorian Pride".Buttercup very muched liked the weed and explained that another hoobit named Carl Brandybuck too had the same pipeweed ,but its smell was a different.

Due to all this confusing names the Gaffers head was swinging and he called for another mug of beer and turned the topic of the disscuesion to another way since he did not understand any of this pipeweed thing he was content only to smoke one that was good enough for him.

Now Buttercup explained how she had been kept busy with her work serving all the lads who came to rebuid the Inn.While explaining this their came a loud bang kinda of something falling.

"Whoa! ",Buttercup explained they all turned in the direction of the noise and found that some hobbit had fallen of his stool and his cup had smashed into a thousand tiny pieces.Buttercup was picking up the pieces of the cup and Harold helped her too.........

[piosenniel]

Buttercup

Harold held the dustpan while Buttercup swept up the broken shards of the mug – a task made more difficult by the fact that the broom was not all that effective in the grass of the Inn yard. ‘Wouldn’t want any of us Hobbits to cut our feet,’ she said, crouching down to pick up the last few splinters with her fingers. Harold nodded his head at this and knelt down to help her.

The long rays of the late afternoon sun made it easy to see the mug pieces. Their glazed surfaces shone a little in the light. They were down to the last few splinters when a shadow fell over the little plot of grass they were working on. Buttercup looked up only to see the figure of Ruby, the other server in the Inn, standing over them, blocking the sunlight.

‘Aren’t you Harold,’ Ruby asked, ‘the fellow who has been making the chairs and table for us?’ Harold stood up, shaking his head ‘yes’ at the Hobbit’s question. ‘Well,’ continued Ruby, ‘I was sent to find you. The Common Room’s floor is all finished and swept and waxed. Could you get your chairs and tables up into the Inn and get them arranged, please. Get some of the other lads to help you.’ Ruby turned then to Buttercup. ‘And we’re to get the pots and pans and cooking and eating utensils hauled back into the kitchen. The men who were helping with that have the cabinets redone and we can get all the things we’ve cleaned put away.’

Buttercup stood and dusted her hands off on her apron. ‘Well, we’d best get to it, then,’ she said to Ruby. ‘See you later, Harold,’ she said. ‘Don’t hurt your back getting those tables moved.’ She stood close to Harold and whispered to him. ‘There’s plenty of lazy-bones around here – drinking the free ale and eating our stews. Round ‘em up and get them to help you!’

Ruby pulled her away toward the piles of pots and pans. Buttercup gave a last wave to Harold and ran after her friend.

[Nirvana II]

Carl, while still working on some furniture, was approached by Buttercup, a maid at the Inn which he had not had a chance to talk to, being surrounded by hobbit lads and gaffers. She asked "What exactly is the name of this new pipe-weed? It does not smell of Southlinch, or of any Shire pipe-weed. What is it?" In perfect Carl fashion, he answered in full, "It is a blend of what Gondorian men call sweet galenas bred with Southern Star, Old Toby, and Longbottom Leaf. My cousin Hildi and I grow it in Longbottom. If you wish, on my next ride I could bring a sample of what I have dubbed Gondorian Pride back to the Inn. I shall ask Aman very soon!"

"Well,” she replied, “may I try some of this Gondorian Pride please?"

"Of course, I happen to have some with me at the moment (and in the popularity my leaf has gained in an afternoon, I should rightly think that I will always have some)."With that he gave her two things, a large amount of the leaf, and a curious pipe, made of silver. “One of two that my father gave me. He was once visited by Elves, you know. Think of me when you smoke!" with that, he continued with his work.

About an hour later, Regin, the head of rebuilding the Inn came to him while he was making furniture. “Excuse me young sir but I do not recall ever seeing you and wish to introduce myself. My name is Regin Hardhammer and I am in charge of this rebuilding process. I am very grateful for your help in the project, and hope that you stay for a while for the rebuilding party after the completion of the Inn. I have not smoked quality weed for an extremely long time, for these days it is very hard to come by, especially on the road. I do not know the name of the blend you have, but it smells delightful. May I relieve you of a portion, only a pipe full perhaps?"

"Well of course Master Hardhammer! I am Carl Brandybuck, a hobbit of Whitwell at your service!" Carl handed Regin and large amount of the leaf. “And as for staying at the Inn when it is complete, I might move here from Whitwell, sir. My blend is very special, it is a combination of sweet galenas, Southern Star, Old Toby, and Longbottom Leaf. I have said that so many times it is getting redundant. My Cousin Hildi gave me a large supply when I left Longbottom, so I am planning a return trip to attempt to make the plant indigenous to this area. Now that I have said that, I must find Aman! Good day to you, Master Hardhammer!" With that he strode away to find Aman. She had been at the stables.

"Ah, good Master Brandybuck, how may I help you?" she said.

“Tomorrow I am leaving for Longbottom to replenish my stock of Pride. I need your permission to grow it around Bywater."

“Well of course, Carl. That Pride of yours is wonderful!"

[Feared Half-Elf]

Elkamia glanced around her, at all the people scurrying around. The tables were starting to go into the common room, and the pans were starting to go back into the kitchen. The whole place was a hive of activity.

It was a far cry from the scene only a week ago, when the inn was still smouldering and chaos reigned. A lot had changed, a lot had been destroyed that night.

She shook her head and smiled to herself, massaging her lower left arm. She'd been doing a lot of manual work with the menfolk since the fire, and finally it was showing. It was nothing more than an aching muscle, caused by trying to pull a beam by herself, not a good move when they weighed plenty. She smiled again and stretched, and headed down to the field where some of the horses and ponies still stayed.

Her own silver mare Annufin was here still. She trotted over as Elkamia leapt the fence. She was large, a horse of the elves and bred as a war horse first and foremost. The other few horses still up here grazed peacefully.

She came down here every afternoon, and she needed it more today than any other. Normally she didn't mind when others smoked, the smell of the pipeweed didn't usually bother her. A new pipeweed was around tonight, though, one she hadn't smelled before, borne by that young man Carl. The Hobbits and that dwarf Regin had crowded around him like moths to a lantern at night, but she couldn't stand the stuff. The Hobbits liked it, but to her it was sickly. She had never been a smoker and probably never would be, disgusting habit. Who needed more fog when the skys produced enough already?

She sighed, stroking the mane of Annufin. The sun caught her hair as she stood there, thinking. a lot of her time was spent thinking, that or fighting. She didn't get so much fighting these days, not since she played an important part in the War of the Ring.

She grimaced as the breeze brought her a noseful of that disgusting, sickly pipe weed. Time to get back, she thought, and hurried back to the Inn. She still had work to do before the day was out.

[piosenniel]

GREEN DRAGON INN FACTS:

It is the 4th Age, year 12. By the Shire Calendar it is year 1433 S.R. (Shire Reckoning).

King Elessar is on the throne of the Reunited Kingdom of Arnor and Gondor.

Mirkwood has been reclaimed by the Elves and is now called Eryn Lasgalen.

Paladdin Took, Pippin’s father, is Thain of the Shire. (Thain is an honorary title for the military leader of the Shire. The title has been held in the Took Family since the position was first established in 3rd Age 1979 with Bucca of the Marish as First Thain.) Paladdin Took dies in year 13, and will be succeeded by his son, Peregrin, ‘Pippin’, Took.

Samwise Gamgee is Mayor of the Shire, having succeeded Will Whitfoot in 1427 S.R.

The Innkeeper, in the Green Dragon Inn of this forum, is:
Aman – a young woman from Rohan.

Before her, the Innkeeper was Piosenniel, and before her it was Dwarin, the Dwarf.

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+

Other ongoing characters in the Inn:

Ruby Brown, Hobbit – not married – server and maid

Buttercup Brownlock, Hobbit – not married – kitchen assistant and maid

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+

Ongoing characters from outside the Inn:

Halfred Whitfoot – local Shiriff from Bywater and Postmaster for this area of the Shire; his pony’s name is Dumpling.

Fredgar Hornblower – local Shiriff from Hobbiton – played by Fool of a Took
_____________________________________________

Please Note:



No 'SAVES' are allowed in the Inn.

With the exception of the Innkeeper and the Moderators, no OOC (Out Of Character) comments are allowed in the Inn.

Only the Innkeeper, Amanaduial, or the Moderators move the timeline for the Inn forward.

Visitors to the Inn will need to read the posts that come before theirs to get an idea of what time it is in the Shire, what the weather is like, and what is happening.

Please be familiar with the rules for the Inn and Games in The Red Book of Westmarch, the first topic in the Shire.
__________________________________

IT IS NOW LATE AFTERNOON IN THE SHIRE, NEAR SUPPERTIME. THE WEATHER IS PLEASANT.

[Arry]

At the pump near the stables, Alwin laved his hands and face. It had been a productive day. Rolling up his sleeves above his elbows, he let the cold water gush over his hands as he rubbed the dirt from them. He pulled out a clean, if ragged, handkerchief and wet it thoroughly, rubbing it over his begrimed face. Last he rinsed it and set it round the back of his neck; the late afternoon was still warm, and he welcomed the coolness of the water against his skin.

He had tended to the larger garden at the back of the Inn in the morning – putting small pilings of hay about the hills of potatoes. ‘Taters,’ he reminded himself, chuckling. ‘That’s what the little folk in these parts call them.’ Nestled between the hilly rows of tubers were the big fat onions, some just sprouting up, some ready to be taken up and braided together to hang in the pantry once it was done. There were beans, too. He strung them up on poles, securing them with lengths of twine. And beets, those tasty, sweet red jewels stood proudly, their delicious green leaves moving gently in the evening breezes. At one end of the staples’ garden were the sprawling squash plants, their large leaves hiding the green treasures waiting silently beneath them. Tomorrow, he thought, he would take some of the chicken droppings and work them into the soil . . .

On his way to the stables, he looked at the other garden a ways from his that a certain Hobbit lass had taken the time to plant for the Inn’s kitchen. Herbs for cooking and for medicines. And a nice plot of all those little leafy plants needed for salads. And there with care were placed the smaller vegetables the cook would surely need to create her offerings. Little spring onions standing like soldiers in rows, carrots waving dark green fronds, and cucumbers, and the little bushes of pattypan squashes. He had seen her, the gardener who had done this, taking time from her stone hauling to tend carefully her little plot. Her demeanor, usually serious and a bit downcast as if something heavy weighed on her, changed when she plunged her fingers into the rich soil. The furrows in her brow smoothed out; her hands fell to their task in a sure and gentle manner. He wondered what had caused such a young one to bear so heavy a burden.

At the stables, he gave a satisfied smile at the stacks of wood shingles that now were being transported to the crew of Hobbits who were using them on the Inn’s roof. They had already laid down a layer of pitchy tar to seal the planks that covered the Inn’s pitched roof, and now they hammered in a continuous rhythm. Placing each row of wide, cedar shingles carefully and securing them with nails along the laths. They’d joked with him, saying that since he had been so kind as to peel the logs for the shingles, wouldn’t he like to be the one to drive the first nail home. Laughing, he had declined. His chin nodding at the tall ladders the reached up to the roof, he let his eyes grow wide as if in mock horror at the thought of having to climb one of them.

Not quite hungry yet, Alwin made his way to the old oak tree. Folding the cloak he’d grabbed from beside his pallet in the stables, he sat down on his makeshift cushion and pulled out his worn leathern pouch from a pocket in the folds of his robe. The leaves above him rustled slightly, and he glanced up with a smile. In his hand was his old wooden pipe, retrieved from the pouch. He held it up toward the branches above saying she should tell him if it bothered her, and he would move. Dipping the darkened bowl of the pipe into the pouch, he filled it with Westman’s-weed, of what sort he could not recall, the pouch having been filled and refilled so many times.

‘Ah!’ he sighed wearily, getting up once again. ‘I should have done this on the way to here.’ A few strides brought him to the cooking fire. Crouching down, he pulled a slim, sliver of wood from the fire and lit the pipe. Once done, the leaves well caught with the flame, he returned to the tree and settled down for a pleasant smoke before supper.

[Primrose Bolger]

Kiera was sitting on the oak's wide branch, stringing some pebbles from the stream together with a length of thin leather cord. The pebbles had taken some time to drill through with her little hand tool, and then, of course, she had needed to smooth and polish them a bit. The ones she had picked were glittery in the filtered light beneath the oak leaves as she held them up on the tallowed cord, chosen for the bits of crystal mixed in the dark gray of the river stone. Between them she put short spacers made from slender wands of willow – the one that wept near the little stream. In the center of the string, she affixed the sky-blue robin’s feather she had found in her little pouch. She could see it now, catching the breeze as if to fly away.

Done, she held the little necklace up. It would go about the neck of the little statue she had carved for the Inn. Stone, water, air, and wood. It would protect the Inn from unwelcome creatures and ward off misfortune. Kiera drew out the small stone Drughu figure her mother had given her when she’d set out on this journey. It had kept her well these many months; she hoped hers would serve the Inn as well.

Engrossed in her work, she did not hear the old man approach until he spoke. Lying flat on her stomach, she pushed the leaves apart a little and stared down at him. His pipe held aloft, he spoke softly. She grinned at him, shaking her head to show she would not mind the smoke. Her own people smoked the wild, sweet leaf that grew on the edges of their forest. It was of one kind only in her land, but her travels had shown that other folk had many varieties of it that they used.

When he had returned from lighting his pipe, she peeped through the leaves again. Little rings of smoke drifted up to her, and she sniffed them appreciatively. Daring a little more bravery than usual to her, she reached one thin nut brown arm toward the old fellow. In her hand was clasped the end of her own pipe, and she knocked it gently on the oak’s trunk, drawing the attention of the man below.

[Esgallhugwen]

A dark chesnut horse leisurely made her way toward the Green Dragon Inn. The pleasant breeze of late afternoon ran its fingers through her master's light golden hair. He was a young man from Rohan, Aldor was his name, his mares name was Nessa.

"See dear girl, I told you it wouldn't take that long to get here-"

He stopped short and took a look at the goings on in front of him. The roof was being put on the Inn and there was still evidence that a fire had taken place. Aldor trotted a bit closer and dismounted quickly and smoothly off Nessa's back, looking about him in wonder at all the bustling people.

He briskly walked up to a hooded man, he didn't seem all that busy and Aldor wished to know if he could be of any assistance, it was in his nature to help anyone he could.

"Excuse me sir, by any chance would you know what befell this place and if I may be of any help, I just arrived and was a bit taken aback at what my eyes have seen".

The hooded figure turned to him, "I too have just arrived, naught but a few moments ago, and am also seeking to be of assistance" he replied. Aldor nodded his head in contemplation "well its best we get to it then and find out who's in charge. The name's Aldor, what name do you go by?"

"Kiyvan" he replied.

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

"Yes Snaveling," Roa said, "I think you do owe us all an explanation."

Snaveling was a thief, and a liar; he had no compunction about doing whatever underhanded trick was necessary to see that he benefited from any given situation. He had sneaked, slunk, manipulated and mislead. He had run away from people who needed his help, and put the lives of others in danger when it presented an advantage to him. He helped no-one. He took no risks for anyone's advantage but his own. But in all his life he had never, ever, felt the cold thrill of murderous thought enter his mind.

Until now.

Tobias Hornblower was easily the most ridiculous and simple-minded being that Snaveling had ever had the misfortune to become entangled with. At this very moment, as he bobbed before Snaveling, poking his finger upward at the man who wanted him very much dead, he seemed utterly oblivious to the fact that he was exposing them both for all their perfidity and constructions before the very people upon whom they had been practicing them. Snaveling was utterly speechless with rage. He felt his face grow dark and dangerous, his hands began to twitch and then, something happened that had not happened to Snaveling in so long, that he was the last person there to realise what it was.

He began to laugh. Not the malicious cackle of glee that he usually gave vent to at the misfortune of others. And not the sly, thin, cruel sound that he sometimes uttered when cutting the throat of bird or a rabbit that his trap had caught but not slain. But an honest, healthy, heartfelt laugh, the likes of which he no longer knew he was even capable of. The laugh rose above the heads of those around him, and carried through the yard. And at the sound of its echo returning to him, Snaveling could not help but laugh the more. His sides ached, and tears came down his face. He fell backward against the trestle to catch his balance, and his sides heaved with the effort it took to fill his lungs with air.

Roa was the first to join him, and Valthalion was soon to follow. Galadel's musical laughter mingled with their own, and like the laughter of all Elves, it was as though she were weeping with a joy that went deeper than the mortal heart. The last to succumb was Toby, for his rage was great and his confusion mighty, but even he could not resist.

"Why," Snaveling gasped when he could finally draw breath, "why did I confess? BECAUSE I DID IT, YOU WONDERFULLY RIDICULOUS LITTLE HOBBIT!!!!" Snaveling fought to control himself, in order to explain. Gulping down his laughter he struggled toward Toby and said more quietly. "I can't explain it any better than that, my friend -- yes! I call you my friend you miraculous rogue, and so I hope you will call me. I confessed because I did steal the purse, and I was in an agony of pain and torment because of it, and there was no other way to make it stop."

"But why," Toby gasped, "why are you laughing?"

"Because I just this moment realised how ridiculous the whole thing has been. Do you realise Toby that I have spent an entire week calculating, lying, decieving, worrying and being tortured by a purse of gold!? A purse of gold!! Do you have any idea, how dark my nights have been? How I've longed, each evening, to die rather than face the painful hours until morning? Do you realise that every day I have been so possessed by thoughts of that stupid little purse of gold that I did not feel the sun on my skin, or take the time to enjoy the wind on my face? Toby," he grabbed Tobias by the shoulders and looked into his face. "It just wasn't worth it any more!"

Toby looked like he was going to explode -- with mirth or wrath Snaveling could not tell -- but the look on that rat-like face sent him into another paroxysm of laughter that felt like starshine in midsummer.

[Kransha]

The hobbit stared up, looking with a mixture of utter confusion and perfect understanding at Snaveling. He himself was unsure which of the two emotions was coursing steadily through his veins now. The man before him laughed, a laughing that took Tobias Hornblower a moment to recover from. The heartiness and jovial light quality of the laugh was so unfitting of the venomous man that Toby for a fleeting second was not sure if it was indeed Snaveling who he was speaking to. His eyes, instead of widening in surprise, half closed, focused without moving on the suddenly warm face of his perfidious compatriot. His mouth practically fell open, and the dull tongue within that mouth hinted at moving, but no words came. The gentlehobbit just kept looking at the expression gracing Snaveling’s face and hearing the man’s kinder words ringing gently in his head.

He’s right. What have I gained from all this pointless deception? I had an unmatched set of cooking utensils and some silver coins, which are now lost to me. Why did I persist and why have I waited so long to question that? There is something I am missing here, but I will not find it out if I seek it. Perhaps the best way is the one that lies before me. At least I would no longer be antagonized. A new hobbit I would be, turning over a new leaf, so to speak. No one in Longbottom would pay any mind, but the blemish upon my reputation would be wiped clean…And no one would mind if I still borrowed some trivial little mementos every now an then.

“You are a very peculiar man, Snaveling, but I begin to see the meaning of your words.” Toby’s smile was no longer forced, but true. The emotional gesture began simply as the corners of his mouth began to leap up slowly, his entire face soon becoming engulfed by a warm-hearted grin. Breathing a heavy sigh of relief and strange new happiness, Toby continued. “I could still learn much from you and those like you. Perhaps now we can be of more ease around this place and less wary. What you’ve said is most certainly enlightening, Snaveling, and I assure you, I have taken it to heart. This is surely an interesting new leaf you’ve overturned, and I intend to follow suit.” He put his hands on Snaveling’s, which were still grasping his arms, and breathed deeply again, regaining all his lost composure. He looked calmly at Snaveling, who also settled and stepped back from the smaller hobbit.

“On that note, now may be the most ideal of times to sit down, have a good draught of Longbottom Leaf, and we can finally get around to discussing the little matter of that house in the Southfarthing you desired.” Toby Hornblower genuinely grinned, reaching into his sequined vest pocket for his pipe.

[Regin Hardhammer]

Regin took a large puff on his pipe stuffed with Gondorian Pride as he sat back against the massive oak tree. He listened as the wind wove through the leaves and swayed the branches gently producing a soothing sound, calming him. Greatly stressed from working for hours on end with very little rest, he had taken a respite to smoke his pipe and relax. Regin lazily watched the sun set in the late afternoon sky streaking the horizon with dazzling oranges, reds, and violets. At that moment, he felt himself touch something greater, and a smile spread across his hardened face. Finishing his tobacco he went down to put in a bit more work before dinner was ready. Regin mused that he would have to thank Carl later for the tobacco and tell him how much he had enjoyed it.

As he walked back towards the building, Regin noticed two new men who looked as if they had just arrived at the Dragon. One of them appeared to be a man from Rohan who rode atop a beautiful chestnut mare. Both wore hoods and seemed bewildered as to the situation with the partially built Inn. Always eager for new workers, Regin walked over and introduced himself.

“Hello, my name is Regin Hardhammer and I am the head of reconstruction for the Green Dragon Inn. Welcome to both of you; we are glad that you have come here to assist us in our task. What are your names? Judging from your baffled looks, you seem to be unaware of what occurred here. Allow me to explain. You see there was a fire started by an unfortunate cooking accident on the part of a young hobbit lass trying to fix breakfast. Although the blaze was completely unintentional, the girl was almost arrested, and would have gone to jail without some quick thinking by yours truly.” Regin beamed as he pointed to his chest and took a while to bask in his own glory. Then he continued.

“Anyway because of me she is serving her time working on the reconstruction of the Inn, cleaning up the mess she started, instead of sitting behind bars. The fire damaged the Inn so severely that we had to rebuild it from the foundation up. After being put in charge, I started working immediately with a team of highly dedicated folk from the Dragon. We progressed rapidly, although not without our share of headaches, including beams crashing down from the sky and nearly killing several workers. We should be finished before too long, but we can certainly use your help in the meanwhile. Both of you are welcome to pitch in and lend some more strong hands towards the rebuilding effort. You may cut shingles for the roof, shape beams for the walls, or nail down the boards on the floor. I put my fellow Dwarf Fungrim in charge of construction of the fireplace in the Commons. He is almost finished there, but may still need some help. Let me know if there's something special that you have an interest in doing.”

[Child of the 7th Age]

~*~* NOTICE OF TIME CHANGE COMING SOON ~*~*

After midnight on Sunday, CST, we will be moving the timeline in the Inn forward 10 days.

The rebuilding of the Inn will be finished. Guests are welcome to tour the building and have a look at the improvements. We will also be preparing for a party and celebration to commemorate the reopening of the Dragon. Meriadoc Brandybuck is expected to attend, coming all the way from Buckland, and it is anticipated that Cook will also be returning.

Please join in the preparations so that we may start the party shortly.

Thanks!

~*~ Cami Goodchild, Shire Moderator
~*~ Piosenniel, Shire Moderator

[Arry]

Alwin had to stand up to reach the pipe held by the little hand. It was a lovely piece, the bowl of rich brown briarwood, with a long curved blackthorn stem. The bowl was thick, the outside of it carved into the shape of an acorn, lustrous from the polishing it had undergone. ‘Very nice,’ he murmured, turning it round in his hands. ‘Lovely, really.’

Her brown eyes regarded him in a serious manner as he spoke. He shifted his stance beneath the tree, stepping back a pace to see her face more easily. Dipping her pipe into his pouch he filled the bowl loosely then tamped it down a bit. With a piece of straw he plucked from his cloak, he lit her pipe from his own.

He stretched up once again, holding the pipe aloft. Surprised by the sound of her voice, he nearly dropped it . . .

[Primrose Bolger]

‘Have a care not to burn yourself, old one.’

Kiera’s fingers grasped for the stem and pulled the pipe aloft. She had not meant to startle him with her simple thank-you, but he had stumbled when she spoke, an ember from the bowl tumbling down the fabric of his sleeve. He nodded at her caution and with a quick flick of his fingers sent the ember flying to the ground. She nodded in approval as he moved to grind it out with the toe of his boot.

Both of them settled back into the comfortable embrace of the tree; he on the ground and she above among the leaves. A comfortable silence ensued as the smoke from their pipes rose skyward, broken only by the occasional clatter of each pipe stem as it moved along the edges of their teeth, seeking a more comfortable portion of the lower lip on which to cushion itself.

[Marmadoc]

"Well Aldor" Kiyvan said with almost a tune in his words "let us go look for a place that might need or want our help".Aldor nodded and the two began to look around.

" Anyone in need of a hand" Kiyvan called out trying to alert anyone he could to his words. In wait for a reply he pulled up what looked like a finely crafted chair indeed an rested his feet.

[Envinyatar]

‘Now, who’s written this do you suppose?’ Buttercup held up the folded letter that Halfred had just delivered. An errand rider on a sweat lathered horse had brought it in, directing him to deliver it at once to Mistress Buttercup. ‘The one who sends it has paid well for it,’ the rider had said, clinking a few silver coins into the hands of the surprised Hobbit. With a tap of his heels against his mount’s flanks he was away, down the East Road, heading for Breeland. Halfred had run to fetch Dumpling, and with a wave of his hand to his dear wife, had driven the pony as fast as he would go to the Green Dragon.

‘A man,’ wheezed Halfred, his exertions in getting to the Inn overtaking him, ‘the rider said it was a man who handed him the letter.’ Dumpling snorted and nudged the Shiriff/Postmaster in the back. His lip curled up as if to comment on the fact that if anyone should be wheezing it should be him, who had borne the stout Hobbit to the Inn at such a fast clip.

Buttercup turned the letter over. It was sealed with a plain white wax and it looked as if someone had just pressed his finger into it to secure the seal. ‘Well, open it, you ninny,’ said Ruby. She had come up at the sight of Halfred's delivery and now stood peering down at the letter, her hands twitching, wanting to rip the missive open herself. Buttercup ran her forefinger beneath the folded over flap and shook the one page open. Her eyes went wide as she scanned the bottom of the letter for the signature.

‘It’s from Derufin!’ She read the hastily penned letter in a low voice as Ruby huddled near.

^*^*^*^*^

This is quickly written, so you will have to forgive the splotches of ink. There was no time to blot it as I barely caught the messenger as he passed through.

Cook, as you can probably guess was quite distressed by your letter. So much so, that we have thrown all our belongings helter-skelter into the back of the wagon and are heading back to the Inn as quickly as the poor horses can pull us. Zimzi and I are with her. Thank the one for the calming influence of my dear one on the flustered Hobbit! I swear to you that Miz Bunce would have clamped her hat tightly on her head the very moment she finished your letter and hied herself to the Shire on her own if Zimzi had not persuaded her that she could not leave us behind.

It was hard to understand from Cook’s strangled gasps as she read your letter what exactly had happened, was happening there. The words ‘Hawthorne’ and ‘insufferable’ were barely intelligible through her clenched jaws. I can tell you she placed her hand on her chest when she squeaked out the words ‘my kitchen!’. I was unable to read what you had written as she clenched it tightly in her fist and threw it directly into the fireplace, muttering a few very unladylike imprecations.

At any rate, we will be there in less than a fortnight. Cook’s mood has not grown any lighter as we near the Westmarch, though Zimzi gives her a little tincture of valerian root at night with her tea.

I am pleading with you – if something drastic has indeed happened there, it needs to be put in order by the time we arrive. The stormclouds are gathering and I fear for any their wrath rains down on . . .

- D –
Derufin, his mark

^*^*^*^*^

‘Oh dear,’ whispered Ruby to Buttercup. The late afternoon seemed to suddenly grow chill and her skin prickled with growing anxiety. Both Hobbits peered down the path to the Inn, expecting any moment to see a wagon drawn by half-dead horses come flying round the bend – the ghastly form of Vinca Bunce, Cook, standing by the driver, curls flying, her finger pointing at the Inn and fire in her eyes. ‘We’d best tell Miz Aman about this.’

Buttercup grabbed her friend by the arm and pulled her along pell-mell, knocking over chairs and bumping into workers without so much as a ‘sorry’ or ‘excuse me’ as they hurried by . .

[Amanaduial the archer]

As she sent a delighted Carl on his way, plans of Pride-growing running delightedly through his mind, she saw Ruby and Buttercuo hurrying towards her with, apparently, utmost haste, a look of grim, determined panic on their face. It was not an expression to inspire any sort of gladness in Aman's heart. She stepped forward out of the cool shadows to greet them and Ruby was the first to speak, brandishing a piece of paper as she garbled what might have passed for an explanation. In a different hemisphere maybe. Aman held up her hands against the torrent of words calmingly. "Woah, woah, slow down - who died?" she smiled, her expression light even though her heart was sinking.

Ruby brandished the piece of paper at her again with a squeak of "It's from Derufin! About Cook!" The Innkeeper plucked the parchment from the hobbit maid's hand, noting Derufin's hand, not very familiar to the Innkeeper herself, and began to read.

After a second, she turned as pale as the hobbits had a moment before and clutched at the wooden scaffolding nearby, ignoring shouts from above when Regin quelled them. The dwarf looked over, concerned at the Innkeeper's so-sudden change of demeanour. "Everything alright, lass?"

Aman didn't quite trust herself to speak and simply nodded mutely before looking back at the two servers. For an instant, a trick of sound caused her to think horses were coming down the driveway and she leapt aside, staring down wildly, expecting to see the doom-laden wagon bearing the vengeful Vinca at any second, then, when thankfully greeted with no such apparition, looked guiltily back at the pair in front of her. She opened and closed her mouth once, waving the letter limply and Buttercup nodded haplessly. "Indeed, Miz Aman, indeed!"

[Esgallhugwen]

Aldor's emerald green cloak shifted as he stroked Nessa's muzzle, listening to the work that still needed to be done. " A pleasure to meet you Master Dwarf, my name is Aldor" he pulled back his hood revealing brilliant light golden hair and crystal blue eyes, he stepped forward and shook Regin's hand.

"I'll be glad to help with whatever I can, I've been told I'm quite capable with handiwork, perhaps I'll begin by nailing the floor boards down" Aldor gestured toward the Inn.

"Very good then Aldor" answered Regin "A hammer and a box of nails should be inside on a table" Aldor nodded and made his way to the Inn, but quickly turned back to his horse "stay" he told her, she neighed and walked over to the shade of the large oak tree.

He rubbed his hands together before taking hold of the hammer and set to work, intent on every nail going in perfectly straight. Aldor dropped into a rhythm and began whistling to himself.

[Roa_Aoife]

Roa was walking around the grounds of the newly finished Inn. They had acomplished much in a short time. Roa had known from experience that people were capable of great things when forced into hard times, but she had not been expecting things to be done so soon. Roa thought about all that happened since she arrived that fateful morning. She had made a place for herself here, and she could feel her attachment to the Inn which she had labored so greatly over. Soon, breakfast would be served from a newly finished kitchen, and tours would start to veiw the improvments. Already, preparations were being made for a re-opening party. Hobbits certainly know how to throw a good party, she thought to herself. Supplies were coming from all over the Shire.

Of course, this meant that Valthalion would be coming to discuss their agreement. She wondereed what he would say now. If he had not learned his value yet, she would have to find another way of teaching him. Roa decided to seek council from Galadel concerning this matter.

Galadel had been a great friend to her over this time. It was truly a gift to converse with someone of her wisdom, and Roa treasured their time together. Her tonic slowly helped Roa's memory return. There were still pieces missing, such as how she had been trapped in the cellar. Perhaps she would never remember, adn Roa did not know why that bothered her so much.

As she neared she could smell the food being cooked for breakfast. She would join the others for morning meal soon. Well, more likely it would only be her and Toby again. Valthalion, or Val, as she was now accostumed to calling him- a name started by Toby, had taken to helping with breakfast. Galadel did not eat much, and would come in later, after gathering herbs or making helpful drinks for the tired workers. Of course, now that the Inn was finished she might join them. Her and Toby ate alone, and this suited her fine. Her discussions with Galadel were a treasure indeed, but the conversations with Toby were good for her soul. He never failed to make her laugh.

Then there was the matter of Snaveling. He had been faring better since his confession. Roa stifled a chuckle. In truth, it was as though his soul had been freed from the darkest prison and the heaviest burdens. Well, perhaps that was not far from the mark. But something was still bothering him. He was avoiding her more and more. Why, she could not say. Galadel would only say something was keeping his heart. Perhaps it was the trouble of his home. Today she would try to convince him to approach her King.

[rutslegolas]

Harold had finished keeping the chairs and tables in the common room after it was polished with some help from the lads in the Inn. He looked to admire his work and indeed it was a very well done.And tiring work it also had been so he went into the newly repaired Inn, it looked amazing .

Looking to have some fresh air he took a beer mug from Buttercup and went outside near the stables and below the oak tree he saw a grim looking man (one of the big people) smoking his pipe at ease.Harold intended to know who this grim looking man was .So he went near the tree and bowed low to the man and asked "What may you be doing master and may I join you ?",looking intently at the his pipe.

The man got up and bowed low too,"I would be pleased to have your company,my name is Alwin and pray what may be yours?".Harold laughed this little hobbit was most gracious"My name is Harold Brandybuck from the Southfarthing."

So Harold sat down with Alwin and took out his pipe and smoked too,he offered Alwin some of his pipeweed a kind of weed similar to the new Gondorian Pride it was.Alwin liked the weed and wanted to know from where did Harold get it.And Harold explained that his wife grew the weed in his little garden.And then the went into the Inn to have some ale and food.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Hawthorne Brandybuck:

Hawthorne slipped inside the back door of the Dragon and hastily ran through the kitchen, being careful not to stop or get in the way of Ruby or Buttercup. Whenever she could, the young hobbit had made a point to detour safely around the stove and ovens, but this time she was carrying a large number of pails and gardening implements, and it would have been awkward to walk all the way around. Once she had made it into the Common Room, Hawthorne gave a sigh of relief. Her face relaxed into a broad smile as she made her way through the front of the Dragon and continued on to the small chamber under the stairwell that Aman had recently assigned to her.

Like most of the other guests and staff, Hawthorne was amazed at how quickly the new Inn had gone up and how handsome the new building looked. Everything looked clean and neat and tidy, with floors highly polished and walls newly whitewashed. Her own herb and salad garden that she'd established in the rear of the courtyard was coming along nicely. The tiny plants were poking their sturdy heads above the ground. She'd worked hard to keep the beds free of weeds, and to make sure there was a wide assortment of medicinal and culinary herbs.

As she dumped down the gardening tools in the corner of her room, she ran over to the cupboard to retrieve her fishing pole. Now that the greater part of the building effort was over, Hawthorne spent most of her time helping out in the gardens or wandering down to The Water to catch fish to supplement the Inn's dinner menu.

In any case she wanted to make sure and spend a good part of the day off the grounds of the Dragon. She'd heard a number of rumors that Cook and her entourage were just a short ways distant, and might even make it back to the Inn by late afternoon. Everything Hawthorne had heard about Cook had made her extremely reticent to meet the great lady. Ruby and Buttercup had tossed out several grim comments indicating Hawthorne would not have long to live once Cook reigned supreme over the kitchen again.

Just as she was about to scamper down the corridor and bolt out the front door of the Inn, her old boss Regin Hardhammer approached and asked for her help in planning the party that was scheduled to begin later that evening. Despite her reluctance to stay at the Inn or run into Cook, Hawthorne didn't want to let Regin down, so she promised that she'd return shortly to help. She'd been careful to volunteer her services for decorations and entertainment rather than having anything to do with the preparation of the meal.

For now, however, she grabbed up her fishing pole again, and two nets that she'd made, running down in the direction of the Water.

[Witch_Queen]

Cree
Cree opened her eyes. The last thing she could remember was tasting some stew the sheiff had given them. She sat up and peared around to see if she could find Grimm. Avalon was perched outside. Cree could hear the crow. "Good morning to you too, Avalon." Cree stood up and looked at the figure beside her. "Grimm, wake up its morning already. The inn is almost complete. I would like to find Aman and see what I can accomplish today. I hear a party has been scheduled for later." Cree began shaking Grimm. Her patience had grown short over the years.

She walked over to Avalon. "Get him up will you?" The bird nodded her head and flew over to Grimm. "Get up." Cree could understand what Avalon was saying. Though altogether it just sounded like screeches. "Avalon, that's enough." Cree smiled as Grimm woke up. Everything is back to normal

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+

Aduthondiel
Aduthondiel looked over to Crystal who seemed to be taking in her every word. "I'm sorry. It seems that I have been rambling on about everything and nothing at the same time. I seriously have to get out more." She dropped her head to see the grass beneath her feet. "All I do is talk about life and death and how everything should have been." Aduthondiel felt bad about eveything still.

" All that is good is never alone, all that is evil is never grown. All life should be held as a precious item. After all we never know when our time is up and the horn is blown to end our.." Aduthondiel stopped talking. Those words haunted her from the time she had left Eryn Lasgalen. Her father had always told her to watch what she was doing. Aduthondiel had only ignored him until now. "Now I understand what my father had meant all that time. You, Crystal, have helped me realize that life is worth all the gold in Middle Earth and then some."

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

It had been an odd week for Snaveling. As the renewed Inn had been completed he had felt a change no less profound come over him. He had laughed more and enjoyed the labour that he put into the rebuilding. He had sat with Toby for hours together and listened to him ramble on about the doings of the Shire. And while not all of what the hobbit had to say was of interest to him, he found the comings and goings, the births, the misadventures and the little scandals that kept the imagination of these people to be refreshing. Wordlessly they had remarked on the changes in each other, as both forgot about the gold and the silver that they had gained in the fire, and then lost. But, as Snaveling had learned from Toby in one of his interminable and circular tales about the Shire-folk, “a fox doesn’t stop stealing chickens just because he loses his tail.”

Just the day before yesterday a large group of hobbits from far to the west of the Shire had arrived and inquired about the cost of stabling their ponies. Unfortunately for them, they had inquired of Toby and Snaveling as they were taking a break from the reconstruction effort to have a bit of a smoke. Without even having to confer with Toby, Snaveling said “Two shillings.” The travellers quickly handed over the coins, and Toby and he had quickly spent them on the some of the finest leaf that either of them had ever sampled – Gondorian Pride, or some such it was called.

It was the last of this that Snaveling was smoking as he reclined against the stable wall, soaking up the first of the morning sun. He watched as Roa headed for the Inn, undoubtedly to have her breakfast with Toby. Snaveling had been avoiding her for days and was in no hurry to face her now. The memory of his actions in the cellar had been crowding into his mind with increasing force of late, and he was beginning to fear that the Ranger might remember them herself. He did not know what would happen when she did. He had confessed to stealing the purse, but Roa had not – as yet – released him from her bond, and Snaveling was reluctant to demand that she do. The truth be told, he had become somewhat wary of Roa in the time that he had known her. He had spent a lot of time chatting with Val in the last few days, as Roa had seemed to delight in assigning them to work together. The youth’s fascination with Roa, and his obvious affection – bordering on idolatry – for the Ranger, had only increased Snaveling’s discomfort toward her. She was mighty indeed, and not the person he had taken her for at first. Rarely did Snaveling misjudge people, but he was beginning to worry that he had done so with Roa…perhaps badly.

So concerned was Snaveling with what might happen should Roa remember the cellar, he had contemplated simply slipping out of the Inn one night and making for the Wild. But he was sure that Roa would pursue him should he flee, and while he was woodcrafty he knew that he could not elude a Dunedain Ranger. And there was another consideration, one that surprised him. One of the topics of conversation that he and Toby seemed to turn to again and again was the prospect of his buying some land to the south of the Shire and settling down. While such an idea, on the surface, should have appeared loathsome to Snaveling, there was something about it that appealed to him. He was sure that he did not want to live in the Shire amid all these halflings, but the idea of a house of his own had a magical kind of air to it…like the memory of an old song that was just out of reach of his conscious thought. For a moment he thought he saw something in his mind, but it was gone and he shrugged to ward off a sudden chill that swept through him, and he sucked on his pipe to drive away the terrible melancholy that he felt suddenly well up the back of his throat. Such feelings had been coming to him more and more lately, and he had no idea why.

Galadel was at his side, smiling down at him. Snaveling had given up the effort to dislike the Lady and had taken to speaking with her whenever he could. At first, they had shared their knowledge of herbs and plants. Snaveling had been able to tell her about the herblore of his land and she had told him much about the properties of plants both new to him and long familiar. It was not a friendship that had grown up between them; Snaveling very much doubted that anything like that would ever be possible between himself and one of the Eldar, but there was companionship, and an odd kind of respect. Still, something about the Elf disturbed him. He was sure, now, that she had played a role in his recovery from whatever curse it was that had assailed him over the gold, but still she seemed to want more of him. Of late, she had suggested that he spend more time with Roa, and just yesterday she had commented on how the Ranger’s memory was improving daily. Snaveling was beginning to worry that perhaps the Elf knew something about what had happened in the cellar, and that she might tell Roa of it.

This morning, however, their talk was of birds. Galadel was appalled that Snaveling’s knowledge was confined to hunting them, but he knew things of their ways that she did not. Galadel, for her part, was able to tell Snaveling much about their ways and their manners when amongst themselves. Eventually, however, the conversation turned to Roa once more.

“Why do you avoid her, Snaveling? There is much that you can still do to help yourself should you open your heart to her.”

Snaveling felt his face go hard as his heart quailed within him. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean My Lady,” he stumbled. “I listen to her and do as she bids.”

“That is not what I mean,” she replied. “I think, Snaveling that the time has come for you to listen to your heart and do as it bids.” She looked at him but he did not reply. The truth of her words, if not their full meaning, sank into him. “When you are ready, I will be with you. Do not fear Roa. She is indeed a powerful Woman and a dangerous enemy to those who do her or her King wrong. But you can trust to her heart and to her wisdom.” Galadel rose and walked off, leaving Snaveling to finish his pipe in concentrated silence.

[Will Witfoot]

Fungrim surveyed the almost finnished fireplace with pride. It had been a long time indeed since he had last been called up to do any building, but he thought it had come together rather nicelly. The only thing that needed work now was the chimney, and perhaps he might add a few finnishing touches to the hearth itself.

He turned to Indy who stood beside him, looking at the stonework with the same air of satisfaction as himself. Aswell she might, for she had more than done her share of work, if you took into notice her age. She had been an eager student, too, taking in what little he had to teach her about massonry. More than that, she had provided him with the much needed company. It was funny, really, how much easier it was to be around a child than even his own kin.

And, he admitted, she had been good company. Usually she chattered endlessly about almost anything, from the immediate subject of the work they were doing to the things she liked to do, her hopes and fears. Sometimes they would both simply work in a complete, tranquil silence.

"Well, Indy my lass, we've done a good job. Now lets try to get the chimney finnished today, shall we?".

[Feared Half-Elf]

Elkamia awoke, and stretched, balancing carefully on the large branch of the elm. She'd been at the Dragon since the fire, and was detirmined to see it to the end of it's refurbishment. She'd been building as much as the menfolk, and now she saw her own work on the Dragon.

Of course, there was the name, The Green Dragon Inn above the door, but her own gift to the Inn was there too. A large dragon, carved from the wood of a fallen tree she had found a few nights ago, was alongside the name. Carving had always been a hobby of hers, and the dragon carving was a gift to Aman, and everyone who would enjoy it's presence.

Of course, some people wandering around were still smoking that disgusting weed, but she'd grown used to it and it didn't bother her so much now. It was still nasty, but she could ignore it.

She swung her leg over the branch and dropped a few metres to the ground. One of the first things she'd learnt as a young elf was how to drop from a tree and land. People around the place were waking up and heading to the more or less finished common room, where breakfast was now being served.

Walking into the Inn, she greeted Aman and a few of the others that had been here for a while. It was impossible not to make a friend or two here, even being a quite elf who preferred silence to talk most of the time.

[piosenniel]

~*~* NOTICE OF TIME CHANGE IN THE INN ~*~*

The timeline in the Inn has moved forward by 10 days.

The rebuilding of the Inn is largely finished, with only a few final touches still to be done. Guests are welcome to tour the building and have a look at the improvements.

We also need to plan a party and celebration to commemorate the reopening of the Dragon. Meriadoc Brandybuck is expected to attend, coming all the way from Buckland. Cook will also be returning, although possibly with murderous intent in mind towards whoever caused the destruction of her beloved kitchen.

Please join in the preparations so that we may start the party shortly.

It is now early morning. The day is clear and sunny.

Thanks!

~*~ Cami Goodchild, Shire Moderator
~*~ Piosenniel, Shire Moderator

[Kransha]

Heavy eyelids fluttered open very suddenly and focused pupils darted from side to side, seeing only a vision blurred by stunning morning light and the haze of sleep still lifting. Toby Hornblower’s scraggly fingers shot towards his face, eagerly clawing the sand from his eyes as he thrust himself forward excitedly with a swift springing motion from his legs, which had been tucked neatly beneath him as he slept against the wall of the Green Dragon stable. As his vision stabilized, he saw the glinting beams of sun piercing those subtle slits between the wooden planks of the stable foundation and door. He felt the warmth of a new day as he exercised his legs, still tired from sleep.

It had been ten days since the final undesirable incident with Snaveling, Roa, and Galadel. After that final stirring conversation with the seemingly converted man, Snaveling, Toby had also been altered. He felt so much warmer now, both inside and out. He was more eager to be friendly, to be jovial, and to be simply happy with life, not asking for more when he could have wholesome, uncomplicated merriment to elevate his weary spirit. He had felt so much more swelling emotion in the pit of his cold heart as his three new compatriots treated him more as a friend than a counterpart. He’d spent time with Snaveling, telling the man countless stories about life in the Southfarthing to relieve his own nostalgic hopes and customs of the Little Folk. He’d regaled Roa with his semi-preposterous anecdotes that he’d heard from his long gone brethren in Longbottom. He’d imbibed more pipe-weed then aver before in his long life after taking a great liking to the leaf known as “Gondorian Pride” which hailed from Whitwell and given his entire lifestyle a decent amount of stern contemplation.

Tobias thrust the door open, trotting vigorously out onto the grounds; he looked out at the rebuilt inn, bathed in gentle sunlight that coruscated like gleaming honey over the structure. The heavens were cloudless and as blue as a calm sea, with the luminous golden circlet hovering just over the horizon and slowly moving higher into the red-tinged morning sky. Toby breathed in the air and smiled comfortably, closing his eyes and taking in the fabricated smell of success and tranquility. He walked briskly towards the inn, passing by the early risers who had begun to tie up all the loose ends around the now nearly finished inn, working hard to get everything done so a celebration of the reconstruction's completion could begin without delay.

Toby Hornblower knew that he had done many foul things in his day (many that his relatives in Longbottom were still oblivious of) and he was completely aware that he was not the best of hobbits, but the past week and days had given him the time to contemplate his illicit hobbies and redemption. He had figured out a way to redeem himself in what way he could. The elder gentlehobbit knew that he could not make amends for all his shrouded behavior, but he could indeed try to make some reparations for the hardships he’d caused. It could be his general apology to those he had wronged and a gift to the hardworking folk…and, he suspected it would be a good one.

He headed over to the area where breakfast was being served and sat down hastily, eager to eat.

[Roa_Aoife]

Roa sat down next to Toby, who was busily eating his breakfast. "And how are you this fine day, Master Hobbit?" she asked with a smile. "Quite well today, madam, quite well. And you, my lady?" They went through the usual morning talk. Toby would talk of the latest news in the Shire, and Roa would regale him with some good stories of far away places. He never seemed particularly interested in such things, but every hobbit enjoys a good story. Toby also realized that Roa liked to speak of her home. It helped with her memory. He would then tell a fantastic tale of misadventures in the Shire, and Roa would peel with laughter, drawing many strange looks.

Today was special, though. Toby was helping with the party arrangements, and asked Roa if she would deign to help as well. "Of course," she agreed, "It would be my pleasure. What is it you require of me?"

"To be honest, my lady, I was hoping that you would help with the decorations. We need people to move things about, find the proper places, and other such things." He seemed almost ashamedf to ask, and Roa could guess why. After all, she had done hard labor for the past two weeks; decorations seemed like weak work for her. But it would be a nice change in routine...

"Very well, master hobbit I would be delighted." He looked very much relieved. She smiled and continued with her meal.

[Crystal Heart]

Crystal looked over at her in surprise. She had no idea that her mere presence and they way that she acted would teach someone the values of life.

"I am glad to help you. Life is very valuable, never take it for granted my friend." She replied as she looked at the sunrise. So beautiful, Crystal thought.

[Esgallhugwen]

Aldor awoke with the cool breeze of morning in his hair and the warm rays on his face. The work seemed to fly by these last few days, and he was glad and proud to have been a part of it.

The floor was done and all the furniture was in its place, a few finishing details were being put on the fireplace, engravings and such, a lovely work of stone really. He stepped inside the door and was amazed at how everyone's work had come together so magnificently, even though he was only involved in the later part of rebuilding.

A smell of warm pastries entered his senses and he sat down immediately to enjoy breakfast. He was soon joined by Kiyvan the man whom he had befriended ten days ago when they first came to the Inn.

"Good morning Aldor" he greeted with a waking stretch, Aldor could only wave as he had a rather generous amount of pastry held within his mouth, he gulped it down quickly with a swig of cider, "good morning Kiyvan, please have seat, you must try one of these breakfast pastries, they're very good".

[piosenniel]

~*~*~*~ :D NOTICE OF NEW GAME OPENING :D ~*~*~*~

Alaklondewen invites you to play in her new RPG: A Land to Call Their Own.

Click HERE (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showthread.php?s=&threadid=10379) to see it.
_______________________________________________

OPENING DATE FOR DISCUSSION THREAD:

Wednesday, 03/03, 11 p.m., Pacific Time, U.S.
_______________________________________________

Until then: please read it carefully, create a good Hobbit character according to the guidelines given by the owner, and craft a well written First Post to be submitted with your character’s description form.


It should be a fun game!

~*~ Pio

[rutslegolas]

Harold Brandybuck went into the newly repaired Inn ,it looked magnificient ,he was surprised that the Inn was repaired so quickly though the fire had been devastating,he had slept in the stable and now it was a fine clear morning and he still desired to have some breakfast,so he woke his friend Alwin and they both went into the Inn to have some beacon and eggs.

The Inn was being prepared for the reopening party and Harold wondered how his carpentering skills would help in this carpentering,however he did not have time for more thughts as Buttercup came to them with their breakfast.Alwin and he had the breakfast and in smokes of their pipes wondered how they could help for the party ,when Alwin suddenly got up startled ,Harold wondering what had happened looked towards the Inn door and .....

[Arry]

He sat sharing a pipe with Harold, their talk turning to matters of the upcoming party. Alwin motioned with his hand to the tables and chairs that now graced the Common Room. ‘I don’t think you need to worry about doing something more for the party. Look what you’ve already done.’ The tables were all polished, their smooth surfaces glinting softly in the light from the windows. Those chairs not already in use, stood ready for the influx of visitors to the Inn that would surely accompany the announcement of a party.

The door to the Inn was open, held so by one of the sawhorses. There were still items that needed to be moved back into the Inn and the workmen found it easier just to leave the door open. Harold had just fished out his pouch of tobacco, preparing to fill his pipe again, when Alwin heard the loud clip-clop of hooves against the wood of the Inn steps and porch. He stood up, frowning at the sound.

Then, there, framed in the doorway was a little brown muzzle followed by the ears and stocky body of one of the Inn ponies. Alwin glanced out the window and saw the rest of the ponies and horses milling about in the yard. Someone had forgotten to fasten them into their pen. Alwin gasped and motioned for Harold to take a look. The horses were eating the flowers from the front gardens, and through the window on the opposite side of the Inn, the ponies could be seen munching on the salad greens and scaring the chickens, who clucked loudly at the intruders.

Alwin grabbed hold of the pony who’d come in to nose through the plate of pastries on one of the tables; Harold led the way back out to the Inn yard to begin the rest of the round-up . . .

[Child of the 7th Age]

Hawthorne had just come back from the fishing hole carrying a handsome string of perch and trout that she intended to give to Ruby and Buttercup as a peace offering. But before she could make her way round to the kitchen, she was startled to see a number of ponies who had escaped from their pen, now milling about the grounds of the Inn. Quickening her step to find out exactly what was happening, she was appalled to observe that several of the animals were standing in the midst of the gardens along the front of the Dragon, making a dainty meal out of the choicest blossoms. Her eyes widened further as she caught a glimpse of her precious garden at the rear of the Inn with a fat brown pony standing knee deep in the middle of the row, a half-eaten leaf of lettuce hanging out both sides of his mouth.

What knucklehead had let the animals out? Hawthorne looked on in abject horror and vowed to have her revenge. For the past two weeks, she had devoted countless hours to weeding and nurturing the flowers and cultivating her little plot of vegetables and herbs. Now the fences had been kicked down, and many of the lovely plants trampled into the ground. This was supposed to be her surprise for Cook, a little present so that she wouldn't be quite so angry for the damage that the kitchen had suffered.

Fighting back tears, Hawthorne frantically motioned to Harold and Alwin, and any of the other guests who happened to be walking by, begging them to help her round up the animals so that the damage to the gardens could be minimized. She ran towards the rear of the Inn, waving her arms in the air and trying to herd the animals back in the direction of their pen. Al the while she was grumpily reflecting....Why can't anything I do ever come out right?

[Primrose Bolger]

Nosed by one of the free ranging ponies, a few of the irate chickens had flown the coop. In a flurry of feathers they’d found their way to the great oak tree and now sought refuge among the branches. One of them, a particularly noisome little banty, shook his comb at Kiera, crowing loudly. Stretching his wings out and puffing his chest, he fixed her with his bright black eye and advance on her, claiming his new domain.

‘Best you not do that, little master,’ she cooed at him in a soothing voice. He stopped, distracted by her left hand as it wove in a rhythmic pattern in the air. His head bobbed at it, and he shook his feathers as if in warning. With a practiced scoop of her right arm, she grabbed him quickly by the legs. Holding him upside down earned her a few vicious pecks before her left hand caught him by the neck and held him gently. She cradled him under her arm and lulled him into quiescence with a sing-song pattern of nonsense sounds.

The hens, there were four of them, clustered close together on the branch a little ways off. They squawked at the melee taking place below and eyed the milling ponies and their pursuers with suspicion.

Quiet now, the rooster made little clucking noises, content for the moment. The hens gathered near him, listening to the soothing flow of assuring sounds. ‘You can stay until the night falls,’ she told the lot of them. ‘Then I’ll see you safely back to the henhouse and your little yard.’

One of the horses, feeling penned in by his pursuers, kicked out at that moment, catching one of the poles that held up the fencing to the hen yard. Kiera shook her head as a section of the fence collapsed. ‘This Inn is in need of a bit of good luck,’ she murmured to herself. The rooster, stretching his neck to see the source of the new noise, nodded his head as if in agreement.

[Feared Half-Elf]

Elkamia dropped her breakfast back onto it's plate and shot out of the Inn door with a speed that no-one here had ever seen before. She raced at one of the horses and leapt onto it's back, using it to round up a group of perhaps four ponies that were heading towards the herb garden. Years of warrior practise had trained her for moments like this, when animals of some sort were loose!

Trying to stifle a giggle as one of the other Hobbits raced across the yard after a particularly adamant pony, she shepharded to four ponies back into the pen, shutting the gate from horseback. Surely the owner of this grey gelding wouldn't mind?

The gelding leapt forwards, and she laid her hand on the head of another horse, this time a cheatnut. The fiery creature calmed, and she got that one back to the pen too.

[Fool Of A Took]

Grimm heard some screeching. He rolled over and laid a hand over his ear. Something picked at his arm. He sat up and rubbed his eyes. He yawned and looked around. His gaze was totally blurred. He heard some more screeching and he looked at his left side and found Avalon. He smiled to the bird and said "Oh, it was just you." He looked up and saw that Cree was already up. He jumped up and stretched. He yawned even louder and Cree giggled a little. "Come on now, the Inn is almost rebuilt again, let's see what Aman will have us do today." she said and Avalon flew over to her and landed on her shoulder.

It's perfect now, just as it should. He smiled to Cree and they began to walk to Aman that stood on the lawn. He felt hungry but he couldn't think of food now. The Inn was almost finished and everyone looked happy after all the sorrow that had paralyzed the people. It seemed like a celebrationparty for the new opening of the Inn was getting planned and the Shiriff from Hobbiton stood and organized things together with the Shiriff from Bywater.

Aman looked happy as they approached. "Is there anything that needs to be done, Miz Aman?" Grimm asked. It had been a lot of work, but Grimm was ready to help as much as he was available to.

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

Snaveling awoke to find a roan nuzzling his beard. He had not intended to fall asleep but the combination of the warm sun and his pipe had been such that he must have drifted off. He pushed the horse’s head away from his own and was surprised to see a number of ponies and horses about the yard. Hobbits were running about wildly trying to herd the animals back into their pens, and a few Elves and Men were lending a hand as well. Snaveling grimaced at the confusion. This place, he thought, if it’s not one thing, it’s another. . .. Taking hold of the roan’s bridle and clucking lightly with his tongue he led the mare back to her stall. He took a sly look round to make sure that he was unobserved before rifling through an unattended saddle bag that had been left across the pen wall. Finding it empty, he returned to the yard and helped herd a few more ponies into the stables.

By now, most of the chaos had been seen to and Snaveling was hungry. Chuckling to himself about the horses – not too unkindly – he went into the Inn to look for some breakfast. The change from the bright light of day to the interior of the Inn was abrupt, so the first thing he noticed was the smell of the freshly carpentered wood. The Common Room was spacious but not overly large, with an elaborately conceived hearth off to one side. The furniture was simply but sturdily built and came in two sizes: one for the Big Folk and one for the Little. Snaveling noticed with interest that a couple of tables had apparently been constructed with both Folk in mind, with raised benches on one side and regular chairs on the other. (If there was one thing that he had learned of Halflings, it was that they were practical.)

The Room was beginning to fill with people attending to their breakfasts, and at first Snaveling did not notice Toby and Roa at one of the specially built tables. When he did see them, his first impulse was to slink from the Inn to avoid being seen by Roa, but Toby’s eye fell on him before he could flee. The gentlehobbit called Snaveling over to where they were sitting. Reluctantly, Snaveling joined them. Toby, as usual, was talking vociferously, but there was something in his manner that attracted Snaveling’s attention. Toby is planning something, he thought. Indeed, while Toby was hiding it well, it was clear to Snaveling at least that the hobbit was quite pleased with some clever device that he was meditating upon. Snaveling thought of confronting him about it but decided to let the matter rest. Let him have his little mysteries; I’m sure we’ll all hear about it soon enough.

Snaveling avoided Roa’s gaze. She too had something on her mind, but unlike Toby, Snaveling was all too aware of what it was. How much longer could he hope it would be before she remembered? And then what would happen to him? It was as he thought this that Roa addressed him, causing him to react with startled alarm. “Toby has asked for me help with decorating the Inn; for the party tonight. Perhaps you could help us?”

Decorate? “Decorate?” he said. “Well…it will be easier than hauling around furniture. Where do we begin, My Lady,” he tried to hide – not quite successfully – his mocking tone. “I am entirely in your hands.”

[Roa_Aoife]

Roa frowned at Snaveling's tone. She knew he disliked her people, and she also knew he did not enjoy being held under her eye. Well, I suppose he has a right to dislike it. I should release him... Roa dismissed the thought. She did not know why, but she did not wish to release him, not yet. After all, he was a thief, and she did want to keep him out of trouble. However, that mocking tone irritated her. Fine then, we can settle that matter...

"You need not refer to me with such formality. Simply call me Roa. And that goes for you as well, Toby," she added as she turned to the hobbit. "I consider you both friends, now. We should address each other as such." Roa finished with genuine worth. She did not know when the change had occured, but they were both her friends now, as were Galadel and Val. Even Snaveling, though he was shady at best, had her friendship.

"Now then, where were we?" Toby continued on with his tale, and Snaveling looked rather startled. Roa smiled inwardly. It was a great deal of fun to catch him off-guard, though she could not say why.

[Kransha]

Toby Hornblower smiled warmly, a facial expression he wasn’t entirely accustomed to. He fixed the odd smile contorting his faced bit his lip, preparing for another rant. He quickly leaned forward as Roa, with a very comforting and gentle look on her face, turned back to him, also smiling. He put his arms on the table slowly, easing himself into a storytelling gait and setting the atmosphere for his tale.

“Alright, I am as aware as all of you that the Shire is not exactly an imperial power upon this Middle-Earth, but we keep our share of importance. Ever since the war, hobbits have forgotten the more glorious of our days, years and years ago. In the last age, we hobbit had our share of chivalrous warriors and ferocious epics and what not. Of course, a tale hangs upon that. After the Battle of Bywater, the thoughts of old were driven from the Shire’s mentality. But there are many of our wiser folk who still remember our grandest tale, the stories of the past. As a matter of fact, a great deal of our very culture can be described in this story. Many elders tell this story to children to teach them about our ways of life. If you truly want to know about the Shire, and about all Halflings, you are surely required to hear the stories about the Battle of Greenfields.”

He waited for some kind of visible reaction. There was technically none, but he could tell that he had at least piqued the interest of one of his two audience-members a little. His smile swelled, and his stomach began to bulge with obvious pride as he leaned back, nestling himself into an epic niche.

“You see, in the year of our reckoning, 1147, (that’s Shire-reckoning, by the way) there came a great host of beastly, savage, monstrous goblin-folk from the mighty citadel of Mount Gram (very big, looming place in the Misty Mountains) into this fair land, invading our territory with utter disregard for any hobbit’s safety. They looted and pillaged ruthlessly, destroying homes and stealing livestock to devour. Of course, the hobbits of that day would never stand for such things. So they banded together, they did, and made a force to stop those boorish orcs. They were led by Bandobras Took, called ‘The Bullroarer’ because of his great strength and height (he happened to be a family relative of mine), and the other respected hobbits of all farthings. My ancestor, Tolman Hornblower (distant uncle’s cousin of my current nephew, don’tcha know), was there too alongside him, as were the heralds of every great family (at the time, not very many, but still a few). Together, they met the foul orcs at Greenfields, in the Northfarthing (quaint little place, great for picnics), and battled heroically, losing not a single life among them. Then, as the conflict piqued, the horns of the Halflings sounded, echoing through the Shire. The powerful blasts from the Hornblower Horn (which gave my ancestor our family name) and the Horn-Call of Buckland, calling hobbits to arms, pushed our mighty troops forward. Finally, Bandobras came face to face with the most beastliest, ugliest, most foul and bad-breathing orc of them all, their leader, Golfimbul the goblin (many suspect he was a troll midget).”

He paused, realizing suddenly that his cheeks were extremely red, practically radiating uncomfortable crimson tinges. He let the bulge in his stomach leak out immediately, watching as he literally shrunk in place. He took another breath, gulping and gasping for air after the voracious rant. His listeners looked like they were ready for him to continue, so he began spending the breath on more ramblings, almost completely losing track of what he was saying as the mangled words poured out of the gaping, twisting maw that was formerly his mouth.

“And?” said Roa, with more of a suggesting nature than that of real, genuine eagerness to hear the story. Regardless, Toby’s mouth had already begun to move at an impossible speed.

“And Bullroarer, using his wooden club (many are of the opinion that it was either a great spiked mace or a piece of pipe-weed stem), struck off the head of Golfimbul and it sailed through the air, landing precisely in a rabbit hole (pity the rabbit wasn’t there, would’ve like rabbit for dinner). Unnerved, the goblins fled and the hobbits of the Shire were victorious. Legend has it that Bandobras first conceived the game of golf, striking Golfimbul’s head into that hole (very few play it much, but it’s still an achievement to invent it). Also, the Hornblower’s first obtained their family name (along with several other notable namings) and the Horn-Call of Buckland (alarm bell of those Brandybucks in the Eastfarthing) sounded for the very first time in Eriador.”

Toby took a very deep breath, slamming his hands on the table. He sat for a moment, staring blankly at the space between Roa and Snaveling, and promptly belched very loudly for no apparent reason.
“Ummm…sorry about that…It really couldn’t wait….What was I talking about exactly?”

[SonOfBombadil]

Lewis woke up to the fiery sunrise of the new day, and looked around himself. His cloak that he had wrapped around himself for sleeping was dew covered. The smell of freshly cut wood was in the air, and it reminded him where he was. Lewis had fallen asleep against the brand new stonework of the rebuilt Green Dragon. It wasn't unusual for him though, he was so used to sleeping outside anyways so it just came natural for him to wake up outside.

He took in a deep breath, and got up to his feet. His first thoughts went to Ravon. She was likely still sleeping though and he didn't want to wake her from her spot in the hayloft. He looked at the ring on his finger and was reminded of how close they had become over the last few weeks of rebuilding the Inn. Now it was almost over and he wondered what was in store for them. Lewis was certain however that whatever it was, it would be good. And he'd make sure of that.

Lewis smiled as he walked in through the new doorway of the Dragon. It wasn't completely finished, but it was very close, and it looked very good. New tables and chairs had been set about the inn, and it looked more and more like the cosy Inn that had been there before. He sat down in a chair, looking around the room, and also waiting for his head to completely wake up.

[rutslegolas]

As Harold Brandybuck sat in the Inn smoking his pipe comfortably with Alwin,his companion gave a gasp ,looking at the door Harold saw that the garden was filled with ponies and horses ,some foolish hoobit or man had left the stable door ajar not caring to close it and now the whole garden was full with ponies and horses munching happily on the carrots and radishshes planted in the garden for the upcoming party.

Alwin and Harold went to gather all the horses and ponies,it was a hard work for some of the horses would not listen to Alwin and he had to use some force,Harold gathered all the ponies (as horses very too big for him) and led them to the stables ,Alwin was already there waiting for him and they both carefully locked the stable door before they left.

Now even if Alwin had said that he need'ent to anything for the party, Regin Handhammer had suggested that Harold carve the board above the fireplace,with pictures of the Shire and the name of the Inn ,so Harold asked Alwin if he would help him ........

[piosenniel]

GREEN DRAGON INN FACTS:

It is the 4th Age, year 12. By the Shire Calendar it is year 1433 S.R. (Shire Reckoning).

King Elessar is on the throne of the Reunited Kingdom of Arnor and Gondor.

Mirkwood has been reclaimed by the Elves and is now called Eryn Lasgalen.

Paladdin Took, Pippin’s father, is Thain of the Shire. (Thain is an honorary title for the military leader of the Shire. The title has been held in the Took Family since the position was first established in 3rd Age 1979 with Bucca of the Marish as First Thain.) Paladdin Took dies in year 13, and will be succeeded by his son, Peregrin, ‘Pippin’, Took.

Samwise Gamgee is Mayor of the Shire, having succeeded Will Whitfoot in 1427 S.R.

The Innkeeper, in the Green Dragon Inn of this forum, is:
Aman – a young woman from Rohan.

Before her, the Innkeeper was Piosenniel, and before her it was Dwarin, the Dwarf.

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+

Other ongoing characters in the Inn:

Ruby Brown, Hobbit – not married – server and maid

Buttercup Brownlock, Hobbit – not married – kitchen assistant and maid

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+

Ongoing characters from outside the Inn:

Halfred Whitfoot – local Shiriff from Bywater and Postmaster for this area of the Shire; his pony’s name is Dumpling.

Fredgar Hornblower – local Shiriff from Hobbiton – played by Fool of a Took
_____________________________________________

Please Note:

No 'SAVES' are allowed in the Inn.

With the exception of the Innkeeper and the Moderators, no OOC (Out Of Character) comments are allowed in the Inn.

Only the Innkeeper, Amanaduial, or the Moderators move the timeline for the Inn forward.

Visitors to the Inn will need to read the posts that come before theirs to get an idea of what time it is in the Shire, what the weather is like, and what is happening.

Please be familiar with the rules for the Inn and Games in The Red Book of Westmarch, the first topic in the Shire.
__________________________________

IT IS NOW MID DAY. THE WEATHER IS PLEASANT.

[Esgallhugwen]

Aldor laughed heartily at the incident that had ocurred in the morning, someone by mistake or for whatever reason had left the corral gate open, allowing all the ponies and horses to wonder freely. His horse however knew not to go very far from her friend and master, she had stayed in the front nibbling on the lush grass.

He strolled about the Inn looking into the rooms, clean and new, done well by a craftsmen's hands. But Aldor loved the outdoors utterly and soon longed for a bit of fresh air, not that he didn't cherish a warm bed and a roof over his head, he was accustomed to being outside and wondering here and there.

Soon he found himself lying on his back with his hands behind his head taking in the sweet smells and the sound of birds chirping in the light of the sun. He wondered if anyone would be needing his help for party preparations.

[Witch_Queen]

Cree
Cree felt better now that she knew that something had happened since she hadn't had her normal spells. After all she was just a regular elf that was only cursed at birth. Theres bound to be something Grimm and I can do. The inn is almost finished and it seems that someone is planning a celebration. Cree could remember the last party she had helped with. She giggled before she snapped back to reality.

What does Aman have that I can help with now. As long as its not sorting through burnt items I'm fine. Cree stood there almost in a trance. "Aman I want to help with something. That is if there is anything I can do along with Grimm. I can never help enough to pay back the kindness I have been shown so far." Cree looked at Grimm and smiled. Everything is how it should be. I am finally happy with someone that isn't going to abandon me.

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

Snaveling did not like surprises, which is why he tried to hard to avoid them. But he had already received one today and was rapidly greeted with two more. The word “friend” coming from Roa’s mouth and directed toward him, made waking up with a horse nuzzling his face seem like the most normal way to start any day. As to Toby’s tale of hobbit gallantry…the very idea of these little people fighting off a pack of wild dogs was one that he could barely entertain. The image of them standing, undaunted, against a horde of orcs was not to be credited. And yet, Snaveling was practiced enough by now to tell when Toby was fabricating and when he was not, and he spoke his tale with the assurance that comes only from an honest soul. Snaveling had underestimated Roa – had he underestimated these Halflings as well?

The Common Room was beginning to fill up with all manner of folk looking for their breakfast. As they had finished their meal, Roa, Snaveling and Toby were obliged to give up their table to another party. “Well, Toby,” said Roa. “I know that Snaveling and I have agreed to help with the decorating, but if you wouldn’t mind I think I’d like to have a bit of a look about the place first. What about you Snaveling?”

“I wouldn’t mind seeing the result of our labours My…” he caught himself, “Roa,” he finished. The name felt odd in his mouth; like fine pastry might to a man used to bread.

Roa smiled at his near slip. “All right then. Toby, as this is your land, lead the way!” Toby was only too happy to oblige: leading was something he had proven to be very good at.

They walked back through the room toward the kitchen to have a look at the completed Inn. The builders had been as good as their word; everything was fit and secure and ready for full service. The bustle in the kitchen was mighty with hobbits running about amid a terrible clatter as they prepared the flurry of orders coming in from the Common Room. They moved away from the kitchen and walked back toward the front door.

As they walked through the hall, they passed the rebuilt cellar door. As Snaveling saw it, a sudden chill ran up his back, turned at the neck, and ran back down. Roa saw him shudder and before he could look away from the cellar door, her eyes followed his. She stopped in her tracks and he could see that she was working something out. He hoped, with every fibre of his being, that the moment would pass unremarked.

[Roa_Aoife]

As Roa followed Snaveling's line of sight, she froze. The cellar. Her lungs tightened instinctually. The memory's were coming back again. Slowly, Roa stepped toward the doors. Snaveling tried to stop her.

"Why would you go down that way, Roa? Nothing is down there," he said casually, but Roa could read the desperation in his voice. Toby stopped walking and could only gape. Roa's face had hardened completely. Now I remember. The barrels were blocking my path becuase... becuase... Roa turned and ran. She needed air, fresh air. She inwardly cried denial, but the memories did not stop, and it could not be denied. Snaveling... he trapped me... he left me to die!

Galadel was at her side in an instant. Valthalion came running as well. Toby had followed outside as fast as his hobbit legs could carry him- which was surprisingly fast. Only Snaveling did not rush to them. He followed her out cautiously, keeping a safe distance. Galadel produced a strange liquid and forced it down Roa's throat. Immediately, her breathing slowed. Galadel muttered something to Toby, who immediately set about dispelling the curious onlookers. With some fast words, he calmed their fears and suspicions, and they left. Valthalion helped Roa to a spot under the shade to rest a minute. Roa's face lost all expresion as she looked at Snaveling, who slowly making his way to their position.

"Why do you hesitate, sir? I gave my word that no harm would come to you through me, and my word stands, no matter how I regret it." He came and stood in front of her. "Help me to stand, Valthalion." The young man pulled her to her feet and supported her.

"Has you memory returned... my lady?" Snaveling questioned quietly. Roa noted the formal address. Friend no more, then.. "It has indeed, sir. From this day forth I release you from my bond. You are free to come and go as you please. I wish for you to never enter my sight again." Her voice stayed flat, her face blank, and her eyes would not look at him. I would have burned and it would not have kept sleep from him! It was with great restraint she turned from him. Facing Galadel, she surprised to see the sadness reflected in the Elfwoman's eyes. Roa was more surprised to feel the deep sadness within herself.

[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman turned flusteredly to Grimm and Cree and even in her business couldn't help smiling at them as they stood there in front of her. Her arm was hooked through his elbow, she was nestled slightly into his side, he stood so close by her - they fitted together naturally like the pieces of a well made puzzle. Aman smiled, then turned back to the question asked of her.

"What to do...no, I don't think there is anything now, Cree, Grimm - you're back to being guests at the Inn once more!" She beamed at them and added inwardly with a flush of happiness and pride, and soon Mr Meriadoc will be as well, then with slight worry, and so will Cook.

Cook...what would Vinca think of the Inn as it was now? To Aman's eyes, it was beautiful now, possibly even more than it had been before, just because it had been built up in front of Aman's eyes. Tokens and gifts from several Inn members adorned the walls and Common Room - a bunch of flowers from two young hobbit lasses, sitting in a rescued and restored vase on one of the windowsills, a charcoal drawing of the Shire from one of the elves, a carving of the Inn's name, entwined with a dragon above the fireplace, the magnificent doors. Even the Innkeeper herself bore some of the kind customer's work - her hair was tied back with two long, green ribbons, which matched her eyes almost perfectly. In all the new rooms of the Inn, Aman could see the craftmanship and kindess of the volunteers who had been so selflessly helpful (although she had her misgivings about a few...), people of all sorts, helping to build back a community that several of them didn't even know well. Such kindness was more than Aman had ever expected, and it delighted her in everything she now saw in the beautifully restored Green Dragon.

But the work was not over yet, for when such an achievement is reached, the work cannot go unrewarded. And, as Aman had found out last time there had been a party at the Dragon, for the naming ceremony of Mithadan and Pio's beautiful twins, a girl and a boy, there was nowhere that did parties at quite the same scale as the Shire. Still, they had managed it last time, in only a few days; over the past ten days they had managed to virtually rebuild half the Inn, all before Cook could see the damage (the last few beams and tiles were being fixed into place even now). To work out a whole party so quickly and for everyone who had helped and more? Sure, 'twould be no problem....right?

As Aman thought this, she finished climbing the stairs up to the attic, or the guest quarters as they were now (Pio and Mithadan's room last), and then approached the round window looking out across the green pleasantness of the Shire, swinging it open easily on well-oiled hinges. Then, hitching up her skirt, she climbed onto the sill - but not to do anything drastic, of course, not on such a delightful day when all was so well! Instead of throwing herself off as some who did not know the Innkeeper so well may have thought, Aman then turned around, spinning on her heels on her precarious top floor perch, then, gripping the grooves between the bricks firmly with her slim fingers, she put her right foot onto the top of the window and pulled herself up once more, so her chest was level with the roof. Then, with arms made strong from heaving bricks these past days and from handling half-wild colts her whole life, Aman pulled herself up, spinning mid-jump to sit neatly on the edge. Then, relaxing on the perch she had made hers, the blue folds of her dress hanging down over crossed, swinging feet, the faint, pleasant breeze ruffling the loose strands of her hair very slightly, the Innkeeper gave a great, contented sigh and smiled.

[SonOfBombadil]

Ferumbras Whitfoot from Bywater

Ferumbras rode on his cart over the earthen road. He was moving slightly slowly because of the heavy load that his poor pony was hauling. But it was alright, it was a glorious day, and he had the whole day ahead of him. He rounded a corner and saw his destination, The Green Dragon Inn. He knew exactly where to go, but the inn looked so different. It was true! And the inn had been rebuilt. Then he had come for the right reason, and he was sure he'd have success.

As Ferumbras approached the inn, he noticed that a lot of hustle and bustle was going on, and a lot of people were going in and out of the inn. He slowed his cart, and then brought it to a halt in front of the building. The hobbit jumped down and looked around. He then noticed a young woman sitting on the roof of the inn. "Excuse me miss," he called up to her, "could you please tell me where I could find a Miss Amanduial?"

[Lumiel]

In her time with Fungrim, short though it had been, all traces of the willful orphan Indy seemed to have disappeared. She nearly glowed, smiling always and finding new things to learn everyday. She had clothes on her back, a roof over her head, food, and a friend.

She sat at a table with Fungrim, nibbling at some bread and cheese for lunch. At first, Fungrim had seemed somewhat distant and uncomfortable with her, but he seemed to open up more and more each day. She was proud of the work that she had done with Fungrim, the stonework she had helped with would last for longer than she would in all likelyhood. Fungrim took a gulp from his mug and Indy turned to look at him inquisitively.

"Fungrim, do you have a family?" she asked with a half-mouthful of bread.

"What?" asked Fungrim. Her words had been partially garbled, but there still seemed to be something else to his question.

Indy swallowed and spoke again. "Do you have a family? You know, a mom and dad...brothers and sisters...or were you an orphan like me?" She picked at her bread, her small legs swinging to an unknown and irregular rhythm from her chair, short of touching the floor. She seemed oblivious to the sudden discomfort of the dwarf caused by her question, a question of his past.

[Memory of Trees]

Lyra stared down at her bare, brown feet, watching the dust puff up in little clouds around her ankles as she trod along the path. Her clothes were already a dusty rust color, so it did not matter about the dirt. She wasn’t one to worry about such things, anyway.

Tall and boyish in figure, it wasn’t that Lyra wasn’t a pretty girl. Long black hair and heavy eyelashes softened her dark features, making her attractive in that simple way that is so appealing to those who cherish beauty. A firm jaw and appraising eye spoke of hidden strength, and they spoke truth. She simply didn’t care, and there was nothing more to be said.

Mid-morning always put Lyra in high spirits, and as she walked along, she began to hum softly. It was an effortless tune, a lullaby or some such song that she could vaguely recall hearing, and she improvised when the notes in her head ran out. The weather was fine, and all was well.

Lyra saw the sign, sticking up like beacon on the dusty road, welcoming weary travelers. The Green Dragon Inn. Lyra began to hum once more.

In time, she arrived at the doorstep of the inn. She stepped in without the least bit of hesitation, and blinked several times to adjust to the lesser lighting. What she saw pleased her. The inn was bright and clean, very different from the cheap taverns where she had been sleeping. The place seemed to be under construction, but it didn’t bother her – she could handle a little noise, certainly.

Lyra must have made a funny sight as she stood there in the doorway. She was dressed in cut-off boy’s trousers, with an odd, tight shirt that hung down calf-length in the back. It was black, very ragged, and she wore no shoes. She must have seemed foreign and half-wild, standing in front of the door with the sun turning her outline to gold. But as we have said, Lyra did not care.

A young woman was behind the counter, wiping them down with an air of maternal pride that gave a great deal of indication to who she was. Lyra stepped forward, her bare feet making a soft padding noise as she walked. The woman looked up.

Lyra raised her chin: her tone was oddly imperious. “I want something to eat,” she said.

[Regin Hardhammer]

Regin took a step backwards to look at the newly completed Inn. Admiring the fine handiwork, Regin felt his chest swell with pride. Everyone had done a splendid job. The work had been completed nearly a week ahead of schedule, thanks to the persistence of the crew and his own hard headed determination. What a proud day it was for the folk of the Green Dragon!

Regin had put the finishing touches on the Inn gate not a day before. A roaring dragon etched in iron now greeted all who made their way up the road. Regin had done the metalwork himself, being the only person there with such intricate skill in metal. The Dragon spread its wings and clenched its massive talons around an oak trunk. For a comedic touch, Regin had spread a broad and leering smile across the face of the beast. Below the roaring dragon, embossed letters proclaimed, “Welcome to the Green Dragon Inn.” Surely any weary traveler would not pass up an Inn with a gate as grand as this, thought Regin. Pleased with his work, the Dwarf now turned to more pressing business.

Regin slipped away to his new chamber in the Inn where he had hidden his surprise. He would need to plan when he would present this. He searched for Aman to talk with her about planning the upcoming party, but could not find her anywhere. He had just about given up looking, when he spied her perched on the sill of the attic window and later on the roof itself.

He called up apprehensively, “Mistress Aman ,what in the world are you doing up there? You'd best get down before you fall.”
In the past, Regin had saved a pair of hobbits from certain injury when a rickety rope broke as they were climbing up, so he had a healthy skepticism of places that were too far above his head.

Scrambling up the steps to the attic, he poked his head out the casement and caught the Innkeeper's eye, “I have come to ask you about the rebuilding party. During the celebration, would it be possible for me to briefly address the workers. I wish to offer them my gratitude, and perhaps a special boon I have prepared. What do you say?”

[rutslegolas]

Harold now had some food and then went on with his business ,Alwin his companinon had left him to tend the gardens almost destroyed by the horses and the ponies,and now Harold turned his attention to more pressing matters himself,Regin Handhammer had asked him to put up a board above the fireplace depicting Shire pictures and the name of the Inn.Regin had himself made the board at the entrance of the Inn ,so Harold feeling that he too should complete his own board got to work instantly.

"MY my how forgetfull i have become ?",said Harold realising that he had'nt had any wood left after he had made the chairs and tables in the common room.

'So where would i get some wood?',he thought,'of course let me ask Regin himself'.So putting out his pipe he went in search of Regin.....

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

The truth was out at last. Snaveling stood silent as Roa accused him of leaving her to burn, for there was nothing he could say. As the story came out, unopposed by the silent gray Man who now stood apart somewhat from the strange company that had before enclosed and comforted him, the air of the yard began to change. Val’s eyes were once more filled with the hatred and disgust that he had felt for Snaveling upon their first meeting; even Toby turned a glance to Snaveling that was bitter and chill. The hobbit did not need to ask the Man if the accusations were true, for it was Roa who was accusing, and Snaveling who was accused. Only Galadel appeared unsurprised, but her look was one of sadness and, Snaveling feared, disappointment.

When Roa concluded by releasing Snaveling from his bond, he felt no joy and no comfort. Wordlessly, he turned his back upon his companions and walked back to the stables to collect his meager belongings. As he dragged his feet across the ground of the yard, he could feel the eyes of the curious following him as he went. He clutched the small iron amulet that hung about his neck and disappeared into the darkness of the stables.

It did not take him long to gather up his few meager possessions and put them into his ragged pockets. He took his travel-stained cloak from the nail where it had hung these past two weeks and threw it about his shoulders. He turned and faced out the door of the stable into the blazing sun. He did not move – for he did not know where he was going.

He paused. It seemed to him that he should know where to go. At least, he felt that he should know what he was seeking, but even the memory of the hunting lodge that had been his dream was now gone, leaving only a chill and barren space in his spirit. Melancholy came over him like a suffocating blanket and his vision went dark. His shoulders slumped in defeat and, for a moment, he gave way to the uttermost despair. It was perhaps the darkest moment of his life, and it almost overwhelmed his spirit completely. But he had not walked in the wild places of the world all those empty years without learning how to combat the grim defeat of the lonely man. He shook his shoulders and straightened his back. He forced himself to step out the stables and into the yard once more.

Before him lay the road that led away from the Inn and to all the lands beyond. Looking neither right nor left, he began to walk…

[Witch_Queen]

Cree
Nothing to do? I guess then eveything is under control. Aman has worked so hard, just like everyone else. Cree turned to look at Grimm, her eyes fixed on his. "So now what? Do we just go back and sit down?" Cree tried to relax but couldn't. She seemed out of place in a world with so much trouble. My life is now perfect. What more could I ask for? I just want to be happy and now I am. Perfect.... Just perfect.

It was easy to see the tension building up inside her. No doubt Grimm could feel it too. Cree tried to smile but it only made matters worse. "Grimm can we go sit down some wheres. I feel almost as if I'm going to faint." Cree layed her hand over her face. She thought her world was going to implode on her. Can I have so much and loose it.

Cree could feel a tear roll down her cheek. She didn't know why she would cry over something so natural for her. "Grimm I don't want to loose you, not now, not ever." Her gray eyes reflected Grimm's face. Every feature that Cree seemed to find comforting. Her life was better now with Grimm. She layed her head against his shoulder. "I don't want to loose you."

[bilbo_baggins]

As he arrived at the hill over Bywater, he came up to the Green Dragon! Oooh! That elfen witchy character looked positively creepy with her companion! Ah, well! Shouldn't judge by appearances, howener pretty or ugly, as his gaffer tended to say of a time.

Now for an ale and maybe a bit of labor, aye that would cheer him up no end. But what ho, the Inn is near finished! The scallywags! they had gone and done it again, they had done the work without him. Oh, well. As much as can be avoided should, as his gaf... Arrghh! He must have that ale and forget certain things.

-------

Ponto sipped the ale, and stared at the others nearby, elves and hobbits; mainly hobbits. So many people, so many. He had not been near so many since the days of the fire..... Siiiip!!!! He had to forget!

All of his past, all the things he done for his love, for naught! Why must he remember! It was always too painful a thing to broach. With the stopper unplugged, it all came down on him in a flood. All, from the fire to the awakening, to all the women scorning, to his late companion Oin Stealthanvil, to his gaffer Smallburrow. Why? He nearly wept with the force of emotion pouring over his self.

He had to have come here, to this Inn, this bustling place full of so many people. He would leave soon.

[Kransha]

Tobias Hornblower wasn’t sure what to do or say. He stood, face set in stone, thinking hard. He had known that Snaveling was underhanded, but this went far beyond illicit behavior. Foul thoughts had passed between Roa and Snaveling too fast and strong for him to decipher, but he knew their bond was indeed broken and possibly never to be salvaged. In an instant, before Toby could think of anything to say, Snaveling, looking dejected, disappeared like a beaten shadow, fading as the sun’s light hit it. The hobbit didn’t move in the least, the rivers of his mind running faster than ever before.

“Is there nothing to be done?” he said at last, not quite sure why he said it. The words flowed out of pursed lips, which sealed themselves as soon as the phrase was uttered. No one responded, each person looking strangely subdued by the happenings, as was the elder gentlehobbit.

A sudden surge of unknown energy lanced through him as his feet began moving without knowing exactly where they were going. He fled swiftly from the grounds where Roa and Galadel were and heedlessly towards the stable area. He caught sight of the man directly outside, carrying both physical and mental burdens upon him. He bore his traveling cloak and his pockets and the bags that hung at his sides contained the possessions he had brought to the Green Dragon. It didn’t take Toby more than a moment to figure out what was going on. Snaveling was leaving.

Again, his thoughts raced, going in directions they had never attempted to travel in the past. He could do any number of things, follow many paths to different ends, but one path lay before him. Tobias Hornblower had to admit that he didn’t want Snaveling to go, though the fact struck harshly at his pride. He had a friend in the shady man, and friends in Roa and Galadel. He had become a new hobbit in a week, doing things he never thought himself possible of. If Snaveling left, every achievement of his would fade. Toby walked swiftly towards the man, not even having time to consider his words before them began ushering out of him regardless of his thoughts.

“Snaveling,” He said weakly, proceeding alongside the defeated man, “It is apparent to me that you and Miss Roa are not on the best of terms at the moment. It is also apparent that you may be considering fleeing from here. Though you may scorn my opinions, I beseech you, do not act so rashly. Remain here and right whatever wrongs have caused this depression. The party will lift your spirits, I promise you. Stay at least until then.”

[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman squinted down, opening her eyes and emerging from the blissful state she had been in, and looked down to the newcomer, shading her eyes against the still-rising sun. A hot-looking, pleasant faced individual sat in the seat of a pony cart, looking back up at her.

"Can you tell me where to find Miss Amanaduial, miss?" He repeated his question. Aman smiled, her face still cast in the shadow of her hand.

"You have found her, good sir - I am Amanaduial, Innkeeper of this place, although people rarely call me by my full name," she called down. "Give me a moment - we shall talk more easily in the Common Room."

The man nodded and Aman turned quickly, sliding down agilely into the window to land with practised half-ease beside the cot that had been used for the twins and which was bathed in half light. Looking back outside, Aman let herself soak up a few more blissful moments of the calm and peace of the beautiful Shire, then turned to dart quickly downstairs and into the Common Room, and slipping under the bar as she saw a few people waiting for drinks - back to routine, she thought, with a trace of pride. Tucking a strand of chestnut hair behind one ear, she looked around again for the newcomer who had saluted her...

[SonOfBombadil]

Ferumbras Whitfoot

Well of course she's the innkeeper, anyone can see that! Ferumbras told himself as he walked up the new wood steps. It's a wonderful day, and would make anyone with such a nice new inn want to climb on a roof. He walked in and looked around. He saw people all over the place doing this and that. Most looked busy, as if preparing for something, but a few were sitting on the chairs and stools having an ale or two.

Ferumbras then noticed, who he recognized as the innkeeper from the roof. He walked over to her. "Hello Miss Amanduial, my name is Ferumbras Whitfoot." The hobbit said, in a polite, cheerful manner. "Am I correct that this inn is newly built because your last one had a bit of an incident with a fire?" "Yes, that was this inn, but..." came a quickly cut-off reply. "Well then, I just might have a proposal that should be appealing to you." Ferumbras waited for a reply, while he caught his breath.

[Will Witfoot]

Fungrim sighed and took another draught from his mug. This was exactly where he did'nt want the conversation to go. His banishment from the ancestral hold of his kin was like a wound he had carried for years, keeping him in hurt and threatening to drive him crazy. Talking about it was too painfull.. or was it?.

He was supprised to realize that it did'nt hurt quite so much anymore, and if he was honest with himself, somewhat dissapointed, sad even.
Yet he knew beyond a shadow of doubt that the wound was begining to heal. He had adapted to a lonely life in the wilds, and of late he had started to care less and less about his past.
He tried to tell himself that he should be happy, that he could turn a new page, start a new life. And yet, all the things he had loved and cared about, his family, his life in the hold surrounded by his kin, was sinking into the swamp of oblivion. He found that he could'nt even remember his father properly. All that was left was a dull echo of old memories, like a shadow reflected onto the wall of a cave, disstorted and unreal.
At that moment, he disscovered that he was indeed an exile. All vague hopes he had harboured of one day returning to his family were splintered.

"No, Indy. I have no family."

"Did they die?" the girl asked, her small voice filled with sympathy.

Saddly, Fungrim shook his head.

"To them, I am dead."

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

The party Snaveling heard Toby say. He paused in his tracks and turned toward his friend. Looking down at the fellow he stood there with his mouth agape. "The party?" he repeated.

"Yes yes yes," the gentlehobbit's words came as fast as they could. "The party tonight, to honour us for rebuilding the Inn. There's to be ale and wine and the best leaf; nobody has a party like we in the Shire, so you must stay. . ." and he trailed off into silence.

The party, Snaveling thought. The idea of going to a celebration seemed ludicrous to him, given what had just transpired. He looked across the yard to where Roa sat with Val and Galadel. Roa avoided his glance, while Val returned it with venemous bile. The Elf woman looked at him with distant pity and merely nodded to him, as though in acknowledgment of some pact or private understanding. Snaveling looked back to Toby. "You wish me. . .to stay?" The Halfling nodded his head vigorously. "But," Snaveling stammered, "I have been dismissed" dismissed? "I mean, released by Roa; I am free to go."

"But where in this Middle-Earth will you go, " Toby cried with apparent desperation. "I thought you wanted to get some land hereabouts and settle down. How many times in these past few days have I heard you talk about the lonely years you've spent alone in the Wild? I know that we Shirefolk can appear ridiculous and small to some from the Outside, but you've seen that we are a good sensible folk to live with."

Snaveling could not believe what he was hearing. "But," his thoughts were whirling. "But, I could have killed Roa, I. . ." He caught back a strange strangled knot in the back of his throat. "How could you possibly want me to stay?"

Toby looked at the ground and said very softly, "Because you are our friend." He looked up into Snaveling's eyes once more. "All of us, you stupid Man. Me, Galadel, Roa -- maybe not Val, not yet at any rate, but he'll come around." He smiled and Snaveling had to join him. "Just come to the party tonight. I'm sure that you can find a way to fix this with Roa. She's in a fury now, but as my old father used to say 'If it's breakable it's fixable'."

Snaveling looked at the Halfling in silence, then turned and looked down the Road. I have done Roa a great wrong, he thought, at the very least, I should try to find some way pay that debt. Even as he thought this, there came to him as a distant echo, like the memory of wind in the night, the sound of birdsong in a valley, and for a moment he caught a fleeting glimpse of stone patio in the sun, perfect for smoking. Where is this place? But the vision was gone. He shook his head and turned back to Toby.

"All right, Toby, I will stay for the party and try to find a way to speak with Roa. I have no hope that she will forgive me, but no-one will be able to say that I did not try."

[Child of the 7th Age]

Hawthorne was hard at work trying to repair the damage that the ponies had done to the gardens. She'd managed to spruce up the flower beds, removing the half eaten blossoms and substituting others that she'd found in her walk along the banks of The Water. The herbs and vegetables were a more difficult propoposition. It had taken many long afternoons to find the stock of seedlings that she'd planted in the rear courtyard of the Inn. How would she ever replace them in such a short time?

Slowly, an idea formed in her head. Perhaps she could get some help from her former Nanny. Daffodil had been touring the West Farthing for several weeks along with several members of the Gamgee family while the Inn was being rebuilt. Now, she and the Gamgees had returned to Bag-end; Samwise wanted to come to the party at the Dragon, especially since his old friend Merry was expected to attend.

Of all the homes in Hobbiton and Bywater, Bag-end was still reputed to have the most beautiful flowers. No matter how much work Mayor Samwise had to do, he always saved time to keep his flower and herb gardens in tiptop shape. Plus, the Gamgee children were now old enough to help their father in his work, learning to plant, weed, and water the flower and vegetable beds.

Hawthorne decided that this might be a good time to visit Nanny Daffodil at Bag-end, and drop a few gentle hints about her carefully tended beds of herbs and salad greens that the ponies had trampled. A nice floral arrangement to grace the central table in the party room would also be of help. Hawthorne quickly slipped on her one spare dress -- all her others had been lost in the blaze -- and scampered out the door in the direction of Bag-end. She would need to carry out her errand quickly, since Regin had told her to be back soon to help with the party preparations.

[Lumiel]

Indy did not understand. Fungrim's family had not died, but yet he was dead to them? For her young mind this was a cryptic message beyond her understanding. Yet he had used death in his answer, so the feeling of it, if not the true reality of it, was in Fungrim's heart.

Indy looked at the dwarf with large, sympathetic eyes. She might not understand exactly what it was that he meant, but she did understand the pain of death, of losing loved ones. On an impulse, she wrapped her arms around him in a hug and kissed his cheek. Fungrim patted her head and sighed. Sitting back down, she gazed at him with fawn eyes, thinking.

"Fungrim," she started softly, her small voice serious, "will you be my family?" she asked with sincerity. Fungrim turned to her, having been shaken out of his remembrance of a painful past.

"I'm not sure you'd want a dwarf, let alone me for family, Indy." he said to her. It wouldn't be right for him to replace his own family, no matter how lost they were to him. Besides, his lifestyle could never accomadate the needs of Indy, she was too young. She needed a mother and a father, and brothers and sisters too.

"But you're the only one I've got. No one else has ever cared for me like you have. No one else ever paid attention to me." she paused. "But if you want me to, I'll leave." she added, having misunderstood the intent of Fungrim's answer. Tears came to her eyes and she turned away, brushing them away angrily. She hated tears, she hated to look weak like this.

[Will Witfoot]

Fungrim gently placed his hand on Indy's shoulder and pulled the child to himself. She truned to face him, tears streaming from her eyes, trying furiously to wipe them away. He picked her up easily and placed her into his lap, holding her in a tight hug. She threw her arms around his neck and sobbed.

"Indy," he said in a gentle voice. "I dont want you to leave. But you must understand Indy, that I cant be your family."

Indy gave another sobb and continued to try wiping the tears away from her small face and eyes.

"You need someone who can look after you proper, someone who's got a roof over their head and who can provide you with a happy and safe childhood. I cant do neither."

"My paths are dangerous ones, lassie. I have taken it upon me to never cease the battle I have taken as my own, and though I am weary, weary beyond belief, I cant stop now."

He pulled out a red silk hankerchief he had borrowed from one of the little folk. Gingerly he wiped away the tears from the childs eyes. She looked up at him sad and puzzled by his words.

"But, Indy, you are my friend, my only friend in the world. And friends are for life, eh?".

[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman smiled at the hobbit, catching her breath slightly, and he was obviously doing the same. In answer to her question, she said, "Yes, that was this Inn, but-"

"Well then, I just might have a proposal that should be appealing to you." The hobbit cut her off quickly and with an air of slight triumph. The Innkeeper paused, regarding him; she didn't like interruptions of any form, especially from people who she didn't know. However, it was rather hard to dislike this hobbit, and she stuck out a hand.

"First things first, sir - I shouldn't like to take any sort of proposition from someone I didn't even know the name of. You already know I am Aman, the Innkeeper of this fine Green Dragon, but who may you be? I'm afraid I didn't catch your name before. And then we shall move onto such propositions," she finished, smiling as she waited for the man to take her hand.

[Angry Brandybuck]

"I've been the White Rover nigh on twenty year,
So come sweet lassie and give me a beer!"

That wasn't quite right, but Angry would work on it later. He was nearing the inn now and didn't want anyone to hear him singing. There had been enough talk of him being unhinged as it was. He was in high spirits, however, and he wouldn't let anyone bring him down as he guided Old McFurly's horse and trap down the road toward the inn, that when he left had been a smoking wreck.

Now, however, it was anything but! The work these people had done in such a short time was incredible. He just wished that he had not had to travel to see his parents, but all was well, it had given him a good opportunity.

He pulled up outside the inn and got down. He was just struggling to remove one of the huge barrels of Brand Oak Bitter from the back of the trap when he heard a familiar voice behind him.

"Hello stranger" said Crystal

[Kitanna]

A dwarf and a woman, quite the unusual pair. They had been on the road since before the sun this day and they were both tired a hungry. "What about stopping here?" The woman, Peony, suggested.

Deva stroked his long beard. "The Green Dragon? I haven't stayed here before, but it looks as good a places as any. Come on then, let's go get ourselves a room."

Peony followed Deva into the inn and it was a nice little place. The two must have looked an odd pair. A short, brownhaired, long bearded dwarf. And a tall, frail looking woman with long red hair and sharp green eyes.

"I'll get us a room, Peony." Deva said as he headed to the front desk.

Peony nodded and looked for a place to sit down. Her feet were tired and she wasn't going to be able to stand much longer. She found a table in the back and hoped Deva would find her when he returned. Meanwhile she looked around for someone to talk to.

[Angel_Queen]

Ravon looked up. The sun was in her eyes and hay in her hair. Ravon stood up and began pulling hay from her hair. "Now to find Lewis." She left the barn and began her search for her friend. "Lewis!" All she could remember was falling asleep by the tree. How she got to the barn remained a mystery. She walked to the inn and noticed a familar figure.

"Lewis!" Ravon ran over to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I have missed you. How did I get to the barn?" She had a smile on her face that seemed to stretch from pointy ear to pointy ear. Ravon couldn't remember the last time she was so happy. All her life she was always in pain over a lost friend. Now she was happy and didn't want to end her happiness.

[bilbo_baggins]

Not knowing where to go, the poor hobbit called Ponto stumbled and turned about in a slightly drunken stupor. He felt he should make a friend to help him if he should pass out, as there were things on his person he would feel better watched as he slept.

"Hello, how are you?" he asked a person walking past, "What is your name?"

"Harold, and yours?" the passerby asked.

"Ponto, sir. Ponto Smallburrow," was the simple reply, "Do you know the innkeeper?"

"Yes, urm; ah! there she is! There is Aman." Harold pointed at a young pretty woman with amazing blond hair, talking with a hobbit like himself. Ponto saw they were tense, a trifle uneasy.

"Well, thank you, Harold. I will see you later, perhaps?"

"Yes, well um, quite..." he mumbled as he walked off, speaking of finding some Regin character.

----------

As he approached the Innkeeper, he could hear snatches of their conversation, "...and then we shall move on to such propositions." She held out her hand for the other hobbit to shake.

"Eh, excuse me, miz. Aman, I believe?"

"Yes?" She replied, while hardly moving a muscle.

"I was wondering where I might find a room? I'll not be staying long." Ponto said.

"Ah, yes. They're through there." She gestured towards a corridor.

"Well, thank you, miz." Ponto started for the corridor entrance. He glanced behind and saw the Innkeeper extend her hand again to the stranger she was conversing with. "I hope it turns out alright, whate'er they're talking 'bout."

[SonOfBombadil]

Lewis heard his name being called, so he stood up, and turned towards the familiar voice. Without warning, Ravon had thrown her arms around him and was smiling her big, beautiful smile. "I have missed you. How did I get to the barn?" she asked him.

'Oh, I carried you up there once you had fallen asleep, I didn't want you to get cold outside." Lewis answered with a smile. He was happy to see her, his morning had been empty so far without her. "How did you sleep?" he asked.

[Angel_Queen]

"How did you sleep?" Ravon knew the question would be asked but she didn't know how to answer him. She slept good but the dreams were what bothered her the most. Ravon smiled.
"Well I slept good but that was only between nightmares." The word made her want to run away. She didn't know what had caused the nightmares to start with. She sat down on the grass and began to think about the dreams.
"I was being chased by someone or something. I don't know what it was. When it caught up with me the only thing I remember is seeing you come in and...." Ravon looked down at the ground. "I tried to stop it but I couldn't. The beast.. the blood.. The screams."

Ravon knew her dream meant nothing. All it was there for was to make her sleep more pleasant. Yet how could it when all she could do was scream everytime she woke up. "I know it doesn't mean anything but Lewis I don't want to loose you. You have made everything better for me."

As much as she wanted to cry she couldn't. For some reason all the tears had dried up. It was either that or she had lost all sense of feelings or emotions. She had changed so much over the years of her life. She was grown now, no longer able to hide. Ravon had to face her fears and conquer them before they conquered her.

[Galadel Vinorel]

Galadel could not say anything when Roa released Snaveling from her. It seemed as if the calming words that she wished to say were caught deep in her throat. She choked baack the tears that wished to come from her eyes and looked at Roa sadly. "Oh why, Roa?" she thought to herself, "It is not supposed to appen this way." Galaadel's heart was beating very fast alll of a sudden. "What is wrong with me?" And then a memory came, one from when she was only a young adult, a memory that she had spent years trying to forget.

"Sister!" said a young voice. The voice echoed through the woods of Lothlorien as a young elf girl with flowing golden hair and bare feet ran through the sweet grass of her homeland. "Sister come back here. Mama and Papa warned us not to go tooo far away. You are going to get me in trouble. I was supposed to keep an eye on you," said the girl, searchingly from side to side as she ran desperately, with increasing speed.
Suddenly a bloodcurdling scream echoed through the forest. It was the scream of a terrified little child. Immediately the running girl halted, a horrifed look upon her face. "Yarvenel!" she yelled at the top of her lungs. Then she began to run faster, with all the strength that she had towards the direction of the scream.
When she had reached one of the meadows she stopped to catch her breath, and that's when she saw her. In the middle of the meadow, her own blood staining the grass red around her, laid a small child, blonde hair also stained almost completely red by the blood streaming forth from the wound on her head. "Oh no! Yarvenel!" creid the older girl. Running to her sister, she fell upon her knees, tears streaming down her face. "What happened?"
The child's eyes fluttered open, a a tired and pained look in her eyes. "I'm sorry sister. I thought that I could climb the tree to touch the pretty bird, but I fell. I'm sorry for running away," said Yarvenel softly. "It's allright, little one. Everything will be fine now," said the older girl sadly.


"But there was no helping her," thought Galadel as the memory faded from her, "I could not save her. But I won't let myself make the same mistake twice. I must do something to heal this fued between Roa and Snaveling. Snaveling must not leave yet."

Galadel then stood up from where she had been seating. Leaving a confused Roa and Val behind her, the elf walked firmly towards the Inn's road where Toby and Snaveling stood talking.

[Crystal Heart]

Crystal smiled as she saw a fimilar figure coming towards the Inn. She ran over to meet the one person she had been missing for quite a while. He had gone to talk to his parents about her before they actually came to meet her. She was worried, but felt that things had gone fine. She walked over him, her smile never failing.

"Hello stranger," Crystal said softly. The light in her eyes danced as she continued to smile. She watched Angry's face turn from concentration to great happiness and surprise. He stopped where he was and hugged her to him. She smiled brightly in his arms. Things hadn't changed while he was gone.

"I was starting to wonder if you were even going to come back to the Shire at all," Crystal teased as she pulled away from his face to look at him.

[SonOfBombadil]

Lewis listened as Ravon told him about the nightmare that she had had the night before. It troubled him to hear that she wasn't sleeping well. She finished her sentence, "I know it doesn't mean anything but Lewis I don't want to lose you. You have made everything better for me."

Lewis leaned over and gave her a hug. "It will be alright, it was just a dream." he said, "I will never leave you." He looked her in the eyes and smiled. He noticed that her smile had returned, although not as bright as before, it was still a smile. "Come on, let's go see if there's anything we can help with for the party."

~*~*~*~*~*~

Ferumbras Whitfoot

"Oh dear, I must have been mumbling! I am sorry, my name is Ferumbras Whitfoot. I live in Bywater, and I am an inventor!" he said, "and I am most honored to make your aquaintance Miss Aman." Ferumbras extended his hand to meet that of the innkeepers, and shook it firmly. "Now, as for my offer. I am an inventor and I have something that would help very much in the case that another fire should start around the vicinity of the cook stove." He continued, "and if you are interested, I would be very happy to give you and your cooks a free demonstration."

He finished quite out of breath once again, as he tended to be rather long winded when he was nervous.

[rutslegolas]

Harold had been busy all day ,he had found the wood he nedded from Regin and had completed his work on the board .

He looked at his work what a fine job he had done he thought,the board now showed flowing pictures of the Shire,a hoobit smoking a peaceful pipe and driking a mug of beer it showed and the name Green Dragon Inn in bold letters,but for now he covered his work for he needed to ask someone where he should put his board.

So he searched for Buttercup the maid of the Inn surely she would know he thought ,but he could not find her,thinking that she would soon return to the Inn he sat there in the coomon room chatting with a old Gamgee ,have a pint of ale and wondering whether they would allow to put up his work in the Inn...

[Esgallhugwen]

Aldor woke up with a start, having fallen asleep under the shadow of the large tree, which had now moved off from him as if it didn't care if he became blinded by the sun. He stretched and yawned and made his way back to the Inn.

Once he stepped inside it took awhile for his eyes to become adjusted to the dim light, he walked up to the counter and asked for a cold cider, which he recieved with a smile. He thought it still too early to enjoy a nice pint of ale.

His clear blue eyes scanned the room, he noticed Kiyvan and waved to him, then he noticed a girl or a women rather, he couldn't quite tell but she had a frail delicate figure and looked lonely. The young man from Rohan made his way to her and introduced himself,

"Hello Miss, my name is Aldor, may I join you, I noticed that you seemed lonely and thought I could give you some company".

He smiled politely as he waited for her to respond.

[bilbo_baggins]

After finding himself a room, he returned to the Common Room, sat down and had another ale. He would miss all his friends; Oin, Rosie, and Finky. Maybe he would travel to, what was that place again, oh it was on the top of his mind; ah, he would remember when he needed to go there. Siiiip!

And there was that Harold chap, drinking his own ale; mayhap he could be come acquainted. Probably not, there weren't many people as liked him. He was a loner for sure.

Already in a place like this he missed his friend, Oin. He would burst in song, something like this,... "Tip the glass and drink the ale, just forget the rain and hail!...." He stopped , because he noticed all the eyes of the Inn on him. He immediately quit singing out loud. Retreating into his ale, the Inn returned to normal.

He hoped the outburst had not disturbed the Inn's regular bussiness fares. He always srewed up something horrible in public, like this, after all, it wasn't even raining! Oh, well. Not many people liked him anyway. Siiiiip!

[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman smiled, her eyebrows rising, but she covered her mouth with a hand in a pretence of coughing as she felt a small laugh coming. She wouldn't like to offend him and although it wouldn't be her intention, she didn't know how he would react.

"An inventor? Gracious me, I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Ferumbras," she smiled politely. "If you will excuse me, I will find my 'cooks' - three hobbits, they are, a fine trio."

And a fine trio they were - Ruby and Buttercup had always been splendid, however gossipy, and Hawthorne had proved herself a hundred times over in the building of the Inn in the past two and a half weeks, although she had a tendency to be somewhat secretive. No doubt she'll be with her plants now, the Innkeeper thought with a smile. It seemed the hobbit lass had made it her mission to revive the garden; at least that would be something fine for Cook to come back to. Walking around the Inn to get to the side door - it was easier than going through the centre of the room, as Regin was giving his crew a few last minute instructions by the look of it - Aman made polite conversation with Ferumbras 'the inventor' as she sought Ruby and Buttercup.

"So, Mr Ferumbras - can I ask you what sort of things it is that you invent? I am curious..."

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

Led by Toby, Snaveling turned his back to the Road and faced the Inn. On the far side of the yard, Roa and Val were walking away from him, and for a moment he felt his throat constrict with the uselessness of what he was proposing to do. How can I hope that Roa will accept me? he thought. She has released me from my bondage to her, but not from my debt. How can I pay that, but with my own life?. Galadel approached he and Toby, her eyes in turmoil. Snaveling was taken aback by the sight. He had become so used to the Elf woman's solid and comforting presence - they all had - that the very idea of her being anything but calm was disturbing to him. He wondered what it was that could have so shaken her demeanor. He was sure it was not the division between himself and Roa, such things were, he was sure, far beneath the concern of one such as herself.

And yet, when she reached his side her manner was as feelingly real as Toby's had been. "Snaveling," she began, "you have done Roa a great wrong, and she is right to feel as she does. But I fear that she does not act wisely in thus rejecting you. I know not how, but your destinies are bound together in some way. You must find a way to make amends to her."

Snaveling was stunned by Galadel's intensity, almost as much as he had been by Toby's genuine concern. "You also want me to stay My Lady?" he asked wonderingly. "Knowing now what I have done, and what I am?" But even as he spoke, he knew that she had been aware of his true nature from the moment they met. And he knew also that she saw a nature in him that might - if he allowed it - come into flower and justify her opinion of him. It was almost enough to shame him. He looked at the two entirely mismatched beings who stood before him: Tobias Hornblower, gentlehobbit of the Shire, a creature dedicated to comfort and ease, his own preferment, wholly and happily unaware of and unconcerned with the world beyond his own narrow borders; and beside him, Galadel of the Eldar, a being of descent and nobility beyond the reach of Snaveling's imagination, possessed of the power to heal and to see things beyond the ken of mortal thought. What had he done to deserve their faith, their friendship? Now he did hang his head in shame. Nothing; he had done nothing to deserve their good-will, and yet they gave it to him freely. There is no grace harder to bear than grace unearned. The thought entered Snaveling's mind in his own voice, but it was as though some other power were speaking for him. He forced himself to meet Toby's and Galadel's eyes. "I do not deserve your friendship, but I will accept it. I am not worthy to offer you my friendship - not yet - so I will not offer it. But there is one thing I may do yet that will redeem me."

He set off across the yard to speak with Roa. He found her sitting at a table in the Common Room, Val at her side. As he moved toward her, the young man glared at him with a rage so intense that it was like a slap in the face. Roa saw the look in Val's eyes and rested her hand on his forearm, stilling the violent feelings that wracked the boy's frame. She looked to Snaveling. "I have forbid you to appear in my sight, Man of the South. Why do you thus tempt me to break the oath I made never to hurt you?"

Snaveling felt rather than saw Galadel and Toby enter the Inn behind him. His courage, which had been on the point of failing when he saw the fire in Roa's eyes, revived. He met Roa's gaze and spoke in as even a tone as he could. "I will not deny what I have done, nor attempt to justify it…My Lady - I would call you Roa, as you bade me to do not so long ago, but that is a right that I must earn again. You have dismissed me from your bondage, and I was prepared to leave this place and seek my fortune in the Wild once more, but these our friends," he paused, to let the word sink in somewhat, "have convinced me to stay and attempt to heal this breach." He took a deep breath. "You know that I do not acknowledge your King, nor do I overly approve of him," Roa's eyes flashed with the bitterest resentment and, for a moment, Snaveling was afraid of what might happen. Galadel stepped forward and called to Roa softly, calming her. Snaveling continued. "I know you do not like to hear this, My Lady, but you - all of you - have made an honest Man of me, so must now bear the hard burden of that truth! I do not acknowledge the right of King Elessar to rule me or my people; I do not acknowledge his claim to lordship. I do, however, admit that I owe to you a great debt, and that your King is your one true lord. I am therefore content to let him settle this matter between us. Should you ever be called back to him, and should you be willing to let me travel with you, I will stand before your King and accept whatever judgement he deems for me. What say you Roa? Will you accept these my terms, or am I to leave this place forever and seek my own way once more in the Wild?"

[Kitanna]

Peony looked up at smiled. "Please have a seat," she pulled out the chair for Aldor. "I would gladly welcome any company at this point, Mr...."

"My name is Aldor," he said shaking her hand.

"Aldor," She repeated, "Yes well I've been on the road weeks with my friend and it's easy to run out of things to say." Peony stopped speaking before going any further. "I am so sorry, you must think me so rude for not properly introducing myself. My name is Peony Minyatur."

[Lumiel]

Hindolen toyed with the folds of her dress as Fungrim gently wiped her tears away. What did she care for a mother and father? Her mother had died, and she had no idea what fate had swallowed up her father. And why should she care? She'd made it this far alone, and she could continue if need be. But the fact was, she didn't want to. In Fungrim she had found another soul drifting and isolated, exiled from the happy world that everyone else seemed to so easily inhabit. It seemed to her that with him, they shared their own special world that no one else could touch, that could be and would always be their own. Yet he would not be her family.

Kinship, no, but friendship there was and he offered it to her freely. Leaning on the dwarf's shoulder, the sweet odor of pipeweed lingering in his clothes, Indy regained control of herself once more. Fungrim wasn't going to leave her or forget about her. He would always remember her, and as a friend. She would be remembered. She had hit upon a truth that many people stumble over only when much of their life has been done and gone; that life is not about money or things or frivolous pleasures and pains of the moment. It's about making something of yourself, of the world around you, so that when you're dead and gone, more than a silent, apethetic stone will record your former existence. She didn't understand it completely, but as the thought percolated through her quick-paced mind, her heart felt at ease. No matter what happened, someone would remember her, someone would call her "friend".

Nodding her head slowly, she spoke. "For life. Do you promise?" she asked, casting her eyes up once more to meet his. "Do you promise you won't forget me?"

Fungrim dipped his head slowly once. "How could I ever forget you?" he answered with a smile. "But will you forget me?" he asked with a serious expression.

Her brows ducked down for a moment. "I couldn't never forget you Fungrim! How could I?" she answered with her young grammar.

A small smile of mischief pulled at the corners of the dwarf's beard. "You're a young lass, with life full ahead of you. You'll find yourself a family and a home." He paused. "You'll have lots of other friends too. Boy friends..." he trailed off.

"Ewww! Boys are gross!" she retorted. Though she wore a dress and a ribbon in her hair, she was a tomboy through and through. She'd rather chase the boys and beat them up than make friends with them. And kissing? The very idea was despicable! "There ain't no boy who can out-run, out-swim, out-hide, out-smart, out-yell, out-spit, or out-wrestle me, so none of them are gonna be my friends!" she exclaimed in her childish voice. She knew that Fungrim was only teasing her, but it was true. None of the boys her age could even approach her without some apprehension, and she liked it that way. When she was older, that might change, but for now they were the enemy.

Her flighty mind flitted back to something that Fungrim had said. "What battle were you talking about Fungrim?" she asked. If this was the reason that he couldn't be her family, she wanted to know about it. Whether or not he was willing to tell her or not though, was another matter altogether.

[SonOfBombadil]

"So, Mr Ferumbras - can I ask you what sort of things it is that you invent? I am curious..." Ferumbras came quickly with a reply as he followed Aman, looking for the three hobbits. "I mostly just invent things that I see a need for. Practical stuff that makes sense. And I also always try to keep them simple for ease of use for the customer." Ferumbras said with a grin, and continued, "Now, this one, is a sort of bin that sits above the stove, and is filled with sand. In the case of a fire, all you do, is pull a latch, and.. poof! sand comes falling down on the fire , quickly and efficiently putting it out."

Ferumbras talked with an air of pride when he spoke about this invention, he was quite proud of it. He looked to Aman's face to see if he could find a hint of interest.

[Witch_Queen]

Cree

Cree watched as Avalon flew around in the air. She had always wanted to learn how to fly. She thought it would be fun to see an elf fly through the air like a bird. She let out a giggle that turned into a laugh. Everything was going better now that the inn was almost complete. The party was under way and Cree was at the happiess moment in her entire life. The grass was her pillow for watching the clouds. She no longer felt lost in the world. "Grimm, are we just going to stay here until the inn is complete or are we going to do something?" Cree was feeling tired off doing nothing. Life was too precious for her to waste it away like it was nothing. Even a life as an imortal was going to be hard.

As she sat up her hair feel down to meet her back. She was at peace now and nothing was going to take that away from her. The party was coming along good and for a change Cree was happy she was able to set there and watch the progress so far.

[rutslegolas]

Harold had been sitting in the common room chatting with the gaffer wondering whether his work would be allowed to put up and he was waiting for Buttercup,but he could'nt see her,but he could see a young woman one of the big people he had heard her name Aman it was ,he had heard it from Buttercup.

He thought that she could help him,he had heard that she was the Innkeeper,so she could allow him to put up his work ,she was working near one of the tables cleaning the mugs,he decided to approach her," Hello my Lady ,I am Harold Brandybuck You may not have noticed me but i have been here and I have heard that you are the Innkeeper,I would like to ask you whether i was allowed to hang my carving above the fireplace,Master Regin Handhammer had asked me to make one."

Aman looked at him as if she was surprised at the endless energy he possessed for talking and then she replied...

[Angel_Queen]

Ravon was ready to do something. She was tired of doing nothing. She had finished getting any hay out of her hair. She was glad Lewis was with her. She didn't know what would happen if she had lost him.

She realized that she shouldn't be bothered by her dreams. After all she had worse ones while she was still at home. Always she was told to watch out because what was beyond the shelter of her home was dangerous. It was the danger that had influenced her all her life. She had finally seen what the world was like. The only danger was life itself. Ravon had seen good men turn evil only because of the threat of death. It was amazing what she had seen on her journey after Cree. She had learned so much from Cree that she didn't know wheter to thank Cree or just forget about it. "Shall we? After all I think we've spent enought time setting her."

Ravon was happier now that she had someone to talk to. She had seen Cree find happiness too. Perhaps there is more out there than just mean people and lost loves.

[Esgallhugwen]

"I am so sorry, you must think me so rude for not properly introducing myself. My name is Peony Minyatur."

"Oh, not at all Miss Peony, I know how it is to finally have a rest after a long journey, you sit down and begin to realize just how tired you really are" he laughed and took a sip of his cider.

Although he had been around for nearly more then a week, he had barely talked to anyone, so he just kept to himself while repairing the Inn along with the others. It was basically completed except for a few odds and ends.

"So Mistress Minyatur, where do you hail from? I myself am from Rohan, if you havn't already guessed!" he pointed towards his blue eyes and light golden hair, besides the usual characteristics, Aldor was a fair looking, yet strong lad. Which truly concluded that he a young man from the Relm of the Horselords.

[Angry Brandybuck]

When he turned round to see Crystal, there was a tear in his eye. He had thought of her non-stop through all the driving he had been doing and all time he'd been with his parents. Seeing her again she was even more beautiful than he remembered.

He became so choked up with emotion that he nearly dropped the keg that he was holding, only just righting himself an balancing. He put it down and embraced Crystal.

"Its wonderful to see you! I was worried that you would have moved on, thinking that I would not come back. I would have returned earlier only I was caught up with the business my Pa wanted me to enter. And I wanted to stop off and get something for the party I heard about." He said, tapping the barrels of beer still on the cart. "Where is Aman? I need to let her know about what I have brought."

[Will Witfoot]

Fungrim surveyed the common room. All around, people sat at the tables, eating and chattering among each other. Sunlight leaked in through the windows, gleaming of the new, polished wood of the tables. The inn looked new and fresh and at the same time as homely and cozy as a pair of old slippers.
He could not prevent a slight smile escaping to his lip's. His earlier sadness was begining to dissipate. He had achieved something here, something worthwile. He had saved the life of Indy, a child who still had a life ahead of her. He had helped in the reconstruction of the inn, helped along with all the others so that the little folk could regain something they loved.

He glanced at Indy. Understanding flickered between them, unusual between two people of so different age's. But understand eachother they did. They were kindred spirit's, desspite their age difference.

"Let's go outside, lass. Im feelin' the want to be in that sunlight."

They rose from their seats and made thier way out of the door. Once outside they headed towards an ancient oak tree that stood on the fringes of the inn's land. Fungrim sat down, his back proped against the trunk, and produced his pipe. Once he had it burning propably he turned back to the girl.

"The war I mentioned is one I have impossed upon myself. The reason I am here and not with my kin is because my sister was kidnapped by orcs, many years ago."

Indy looked up at him silently. He paused only to take a lugfull of the smoke before continuing.

"I set of in pursuit, but I arrived too late. They had killed my sister." Fungrim's fist clenched slightly, but otherwise he showed no sign's of aggitation. "Luckily I came upon the orcs at the height of noon, while they were resting and hiding from the sun's fiery gaze. I killed most of them and the rest fled."

The child gazed at him, something like horror evident in her eyes. "That day I swore an oath to never rest till every orc in the world has fallen, under my axe or the blade's of the other free peoples, or till their fell number's claim me. But never shall I cease in the reclaimin of the blood-depth they owe me and my clan."

He wondered if he had done the right thing, troubling the child with this kind of talk of slaughter and death. Then again, desspite the downfall of the Dark Lord it was still a dangerous world, and the sooner she regognized it, the better. He still hoped that she never had to face the danger herself, but could reamin safe here in this quiet and peacefull land.
It was just as well that he had'nt told her how his family had blamed him for his sisters death, some even suspecting him to be her killer. That was the real reason he had left.

[bilbo_baggins]

After having an ale, he went outside and began practicing his swordfighting techniques. He got a few stares for it, but he did not mind, he was always a loner. Even when he had had his friends with him, he had not been completely honest with them. And they knew it.

He did not have great skill with a blade, but what little he knew he could do well. He saw a group of people talking, he knew not what about, and he also saw a dwarf with a female companion. he did not want ot disturb them so he backed up to the edge the Inn's grounds....

...and promptly bumped into someone. "Oh, I am terribly sorry about that," Ponto said, " I was not looking where I was going,"

"That's quite alright, I have had much experience with hobbits like you!"...

[Crystal Heart]

Crystal looked at Angry in surprise. She had no idea that he would actually question and wonder if she would be there when he returned. She would wait a million years if it meant to just to see him once again.

"Angry Brandybuck, I am surprised. You must know by know that there wouldn't be any lapse of time that I wouldn't wait for you. I have fallen in love with you and there isn't anything that I can do about it, nor want to do about it. I'm finally happy and safe with you. I'm not sure where Aman is, probably inside I suppose." Crystal said. She gave Angry a kiss on the cheek and smiled.

She liked being in his arms. She felt wanted. She felt loved. She felt as if her life finally had a purpose and that purpose was to live. For the first time she loved being alive.

[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman spotted Ruby and Buttercup by the bar, apparently talking earnestly and was about to move over to them, now rather intrigued by Ferumbras's 'inventing', when another hobbit accosted her. As soon as she turned to him, he began to speak quickly.

"Hello my Lady, I am Harold Brandybuck, you may not have noticed me but I have been here and I have heard that you are the Innkeeper, and I would like to ask you whether I am allowed to hang my carving above the fireplace, Master Regin Handhammer had asked me to make one." The gushing passage seemed to come out as a continuous sentence from the energetic, flushed looking Harold and the Innkeeper stared at him for a second as her mind caught up with the passage which had taken her somewhat by surprise. The hobbit was watching her with an air of holding his breath and Aman smiled, shaking and nodding her head a little all at the same time as she spread her hands.

"I don't see why not, Mr Brandybuck, certainly not if Regin commisioned you. But may I see the aforementioned carving first?" She then smiled and remembered her ever impeccable manners, and chanced upon a thought that she thought woulld please the hobbit. "And of course I have noticed you around - if you are keen on carving, may I suggest you tarry for a while at the Inn if it wasn't already your intention? A friend of mine, the stablemaster at the Inn ordinarily, is returning here even as we speak, and shares the interest. I am sure Derufin would be pleased to make your acquaintance."

She smiled to herself as well as to the hobbit as she said this last part. She had not been as close to Derufin as Pio had always been - the half-elf and the stablemaster had been very close - and in Aman's time at the Inn, the stablemaster had spent much of his time with one of the strays the Inn picked up, a refined, nervous girl by the name of Uien who had appeared at the Inn terrified and been taken in in reply for some stablework. And not long after that, back had ridden Pio, Mithadan and the twins, along with two friends, Gilly Burrowbanks and this exotic character Zimzi. Why the girl had quite captured Derufin's heart, which was why he had swanned off with her when she travelled with Pio and Mithadan as far as possible when they left.

The Innkeeper did not begrudge the stablemaster, far from it - and she found she had missed him, even though she didn't knwo himn as well as the four hobbits who worked at the Inn. It would not be at all long until Cook, Derufin and Zimzi reappeared the Inn - they were expected any minute now. Aman could only hope the perfectionistic Vinca would approve of the...redecorated Inn; she hoped to get to know Derufin better before he went away again, with Zimzi, she thought - they would no doubt set up in a home away from the Inn rather than continuing to live here. That is, Aman thought so anyway. And as for Zimzi - well, the exotic and mysterious beauty was so sweet-natured, from what Aman had seen of her, and she looked forward to becoming better acquainted with her if she was indeed to stay in the Shire for any amount of time.

[Kitanna]

"Rohan?" Peony let a slight smile cross her face. "My father is from Rohan and how I love that land so. For as long as I can remember I have wanted to be a Rider of Rohan." She paused for a moment and started to twirl her red hair around her finger.

She blinked out of her trance and returned her full attention to Aldor. "But I was born and raised in Minas Tirith. I love it there too. And my companion, Deva," Peony looked around the inn to see if she could spot Deva, "I'm not sure where he has run off to, but he is a dwarf from the Lonely Mountain. Now tell me Mr. Aldor, how is it that you ended up so far from Rohan?"

[Esgallhugwen]

He thought for a moment caught in her green eyed gaze, his mother had had green eyes which was strange for their people. "Well Miss Peony, theres no need to call me mister, plain old Aldor will do just fine, if you don't mind, its just Mr. is very odd for me".

He finished his cider "but no matter, to answer your question, I cannot really say why I'm so far from my homeland. Sometimes I just find myself wandering from here to there, not that I'm bored, I love Rohan dearly; tis a strange thing to describe".

Aldor smiled at her and looked around for whom he thought to be Deva, perhaps he was going to get Peony and himself a room. He then looked out the window at the dazzling green grass sparkling in the sun.

"But what of you, why have you come so far from Minas Tirith?, with a Dwarven companion, seems a strange match to me, if its not to rude to say".

[Kitanna]

Peony laughed to herself. "I've always been the wandering type. My father would travel the lands and sometimes I could talk him into taking me with him, which is how I met Deva. I was bound for Bree when I left Minas Tirith, but once I got there I didn't want my little adventure to end, so I keep walking."

She checked around another moment. "I hate the idea of being bored, which my mother says in a curse and I need to keep my feet on the ground. But I just can't do that." Again she checked for Deva.

"I believe my counterpart has gotten us a room and most likely fallen asleep. Oh well, he needs the rest."

[Angry Brandybuck]

Listening to Crystal, Angry's heart swelled; she loved him! He had known it before, but it felt so good to hear it again. Suddenly a thought broke him out of his reverie and he remembered the other thing he had brought back with him.

"Hang on a minute, I have something to show you" he said to Crystal, getting up onto the trap and shifting some barrels out of the way. He emerged holding a guitar, it had been his for a long time but his parents had not let him bring it away with him. They had decided that he did not need the distraction of writing songs every day to get in the way of learning a new trade. They had been so impressed, however, by the way he had talked about his new job when they met that they thought he should have it back as a reward.

He plucked a short tune on the cat gut strings and beamed at Crystal, who applauded.

"I'm going to try to get Aman to let me play at the party, but I don't know if she'll let me."

[Crystal Heart]

Crystal smiled and applauded at his talent. She hadn't known that Angry could play the guitar and she loved the sound that it made. She never had learned to play an instrument in her life and envied anyone that did. She couldn't help but feel proud of Angry's talent.

"That is wonderful! I am sure Aman will let you play. If not, you can play for me if you want. I love to listen to you." Crystal said with a smile. She looked at him shyly. She knew that Angry loved her, but he had never said it out loud. She had taken a bold step in telling him and was very afraid of the outcome. She wondered if she had just frightened him away, at least somewhat.

[Mad Baggins]

Mirabell Baggins stepped into the Green Dragon and threw back her hood, revealing chestnut-brown hair and green eyes. She glanced around the Inn, taking in the people chatting at tables. One hobbit was sitting with a guitar, plucking at the strings. Mirabell smiled. Oh, the good old Dragon! she thought, and made her way over to the bar.

"Cup of tea, please. No, that will be all. Thank you very much." Mirabell turned around on her chair to survey the scene in the Inn. Like before, people were chatting and laughing. The hobbit with the guitar had finished playing and was now beaming at a young hobbit lass. Mirabell sipped her tea and smiled in contentment as the hot liquid flowed down her throat, warming her belly.

"It is so dull to sit by oneself in such a warm and homey place," she murmured. "But I don't want to intrude on anyone's conversations. Ah, well, as Tico says...let the sparrow fly and see where the breeze takes it."

[Eowyn Skywalker]

The mid afternoon day was fair, and Willow Overhill, a hobbit from the north Shire, sat in the Green Dragon, and waited.
Ando Bracegirdle should've been there by now, he had promised to meet her at the Green Dragon, and yet, he was not there.
"Where is that young fool?!" she asked herself. He had promised... but wait.

She stood up sharply, as something on the other end of the common room caught her eyes. "ANDO!" she shouted, thinking it to be him, then sat down, abashed, as she realized that the halfling on the other side of the room, the blond hobbit, I might note, was not Ando Bracegirdle.

She smiled helplessly at the younger hobbit. "Hello, Anagar Fernfield," she said dryly.

"Hello, Willow," he said. "I've been looking for you."

She stood up sharply, then sat back down. "I know," she said quietly.

He smiled almost evilly, it seemed. "I think we need to talk, daughter."

[Angry Brandybuck]

Emboldened by Crystal's response to his playing, Angry jumped down from the cart, nearly toppled when he landed, overbalanced by the weight of the guitar in his hand. Before running off to find Aman he kissed Crystal on the cheek and blushed profusely.

She giggled as he ran off in the direction of the Inn door, where he expected the landlady to be. When he found her she seemed caught in some deep reverie, memories of things been and gone clouding her beautiful eyes.

After waiting for her to notice him for five minutes he made a slight coughing noise in the back of his throat and shifted uneasily from foot to foot.

[Crystal Heart]

Crystal had walked slowly up to the Inn and into the door where Angry had gone into. She was blushing so badly that you couldn't see what the original color of her face had been moments before. She came in and stood next to Angry and smiled. Her blush deepened. She had no idea that he would give her such a response.

She watched as Aman turned around from the other duties she had been attending to and allowed Angry to talk. It was his guitar and his idea. Besides she wasn't entirely sure she could formulate words at this particular moment.

[Feared Half-Elf]

It was hard to see the elf, being dresed in woodland greens and sat on the branch of a sturdy tree. A longbow of dark wood rested in her left hand, and her right flicked arrows to the string faster than could be seen. She was practising her archery, as she did whenever she had a moment to spare. The arrows thudded into a tree she could only just see, and she smiled as she paused to see her work. All her arrows were in a tight cluster on a branch. She dropped to the ground and collected them.

She scrambled easily back onto her branch, and settled the bow and quiver in the fork of two branches. She climbed higher, and soon her face was to the wind. The scent of herbs came to her, brought from the herb garden.

People were getting ready for the party, the Inn was finished and now just last decorations were going in place. She stretched like a cat in the sun, and yawned. She really should do something to help. She dropped to the ground again and made her way to the common room.

[Lumiel]

Out into the light they went and towards a large, ancient oak on the edge of the woods. There they sat under its large, graceful boughs, bent and twisted with age but strong with sun and water. Fungrim leaned against the stern trunk and lit his pipe. Indy sat down near him, her fingers absent-mindedly playing with the warm blades of grass. The sun was caught and twinkled in her short blond hair and it illuminated the dusky smoke from Fungrim's pipe.

He took in a deep breath of the pipeweed and blew it out slowly, the smoke diffusing through the air around them with a sweet scent. "The war I mentioned is one I have imposed upon myself. The reason I am here and not with my kin is because my sister was kidnapped by orcs, many years ago." he said, now pausing.

Indy was strangely silent. Her usually flighty mind was focused entirely on Fungrim. Her mouth remained silent; she knew that Fungrim should not be interrupted. It was painful for him to talk about it and she would not disrespect him, the only person she had any real respect for to begin with.

"I set off in pursuit, but I arrived too late. They had killed my sister." he continued. He clenched his fist and a tautness seemed to come around his hardened eyes as he recalled what happened. "Luckily I came upon the orcs at the height of noon, while they were resting and hiding from the sun's fiery gaze. I killed most of them and the rest fled." A tightness grabbed at Indy's throat and she put her small hands together, gripping one another. "That day I swore an oath to never rest 'til every orc in the world has fallen, under my axe or the blade's of the other free peoples, or 'til their fell numbers claim me. But never shall I cease in the reclaimin' of the blood-depth they owe me and my clan." he finished with a strength in his voice that Indy had not yet heard before from him.

His eyes were closed now, as if he was contemplating what he had just said. Though but a child, Indy knew well the dangers of the world. She had traveled along the many dark paths of mankind, but had been spared its worst tortures thus far. A deep sadness filled her heart. Could she do what Fungrim had done? Could she put her life on the line for one she loved? A doubt that had silently gnawed at her heart now gave voice as tears sparkled, holding on to her lashes. Poke, her first and only friend besides Fungrim, had died in her midst. And what had she done? She had run, run in fear for her own life, in fear of the truth of what had happened. She had failed Poke without entirely realizing it until now. Tears streamed silently down her cheeks and Indy did nothing to brush them away. She deserved this pain for her unwitting betrayal.

Fungrim peered over at the young girl and sighed with concern. "I knew I shouldn't 'ave told you lass. You're too young to hear such -"

"No, no. It's not that...well, it is in a way." interrupted Indy. She paused, collecting her thoughts. "I just wish...I just wish that I could be like you Fungrim." she said softly, her brown eyes turned on him, mirrors of her soul. "I failed someone, and I didn't do anything about it. You didn't do that though, you're still fighting and me, I gave up. I want to be like you, Fungrim." she finished, crawling to sit against the trunk, leaning her head on Fungrim's arm. After a pause, she spoke again. "How long will you stay here, Fungrim?" she asked.

[Mad Baggins]

Mirabell gulped down the last of her tea and set the cup down on the counter of the bar. Well, she thought, I have let the sparrow fly and the breeze has taken it into a tree. She chuckled at this and got up from her seat. She thanked the barkeep and made her way out to the stables to say hello to her pony Salic. As she pushed open the stable door, the horses and ponies inside all turned to peer at the newcomer. One dapple-grey pony nickered happily at the sight of Mirabell. The hobbit hurried over to it and stroked its velvety nose.

"Salic, my lad. How are you?" The pony nudged Mirabell's stomach as if to say Fine, thank you. Do you have any treats for me? Mirabell laughed and dug in her pocket for a piece of carrot. She handed it to Salic, who crunched it eagerly and looked at her brightly, hoping for more. Mirabell shook her head and said, "No, boy. That's it for now. I see they are treating you well, though. I've got to go now." Salic gave her one last nudge and turned back to his stall.

Mirabell stepped out of the stable into the pleasant Shire afternoon. She started to go back to the common room, but paused, enjoying the fresh air. She decided to stay outside for a while. Looking around, she saw a small tree. She walked over to it and climbed into a comfortable branch. Sighing happily, she looked up at the patches of blue sky interspersed with green leaves and branches.

[Eowyn Skywalker]

Willow sat back down, almost quietly. She was aware of Anagar's eyes on her as she sat gracefully. "Ttalk then," she said, "but do not expect me to respond in like kind, father."

"Then you acknowledge the truth?" he asked.

She sighed, taking in the surrounding of the room with a quiet; subtile air. "If my parents had told me that you still lived many years ago, then it might've been better, Anagar. But now..."

"You worry to much. And who is this Ando? Someone of any importance?"

"Not to you. Now if you'll excuse me, I would like to pick up a drink, father."

He watched her walk away, and drew his pipe out of his pocket thoughtfully. He smoked in silence, for some things were better left unsaid.

The day was calm, mid afternoon. It was said that a fire had happened of late, and there would be a party later. But that was later, and not now.

There were other things that had to be attended to at the moment. People were buzzing around the room, getting ready for the said party, when Willow observed an elf in dark green clothing enter the common room.

It was odd to see an elf in the Shire, and Willow wondered what brought her here.

[Feared Half-Elf]

Elkamia went to the bar, and ordered a snack for the afternoon. 'I think the halfling's influence is still on me.' she thought, and smiled. 'No matter. Sometimes it's nice to be able to snack a lot, on decent food. Sometimes the elven stuff gets repetitive.' She then scolded herself for being negative towards the food of her own kin!

She settled into a chair before a table, and thought. She did a lot of thinking these days, much more than she had before the War of the Ring.

Anyway, what could she do for the party this evening? She'd already done some things for the Inn itself, like she'd made that carved dragon on the front of the Inn, to go with the name, and a few odd pieces of work in the kitchen, but she wanted something to do for the party. How about decorations? She made be a warrior, but she could still string together some flowers and leaves. She'd made some decorations for the marraige between Arwen Evenstar and King Estel of Gondor.

That made up her mind. She finished the biscuits she had been eating and went to find Aman, the Innkeeper.

[Roa_Aoife]

Will you accept my terms? Roa had been silent for a long time before answering. I need time to ponder this. It is not a light matter, and should be decided with care. She had been as civil as possible, but the rage in her heart could not be concealed, and she was greatly tempted to break her oath. The look in Galadel's eyes had stilled her, but it took great restraint. She then excused herself from the group by declaring she was very tired and her head ached. Val helped her to the Innkeeper, and Miss Aman had shown her to a new room. Alone, Roa thought over the events and ordered her memories. Finally, she released her rage in a fit of bitter tears. She had not cried since the day her brother had not come back from battle.

An hour later, Roa awoke from her slumber. She found the washroom and rinsed the tears from her face. Galadel was waiting for her when she returned.

"I know why you are here, Galadel. You wish me to him, eh?" The elf smiled with great warmth and understanding. "Of course not," she replied gently, "Forgiveness take time. Wounds must heal. But you agree to try. Keep him around- the poor man feels he has lost all worth." Roa bit back the angry retort. I am always quick with my temper... Sighing, she nodded and walked from the room. Galadel followed.

Roa walked towards the dining hall. Her stomach was talking to her. As she entered, Roa saw Val and Snaveling sitting at a table together, and a very nervous Toby between them. Carefully she eyed the man she was not throttling, and the ice around her heart thawed a little. He did look quite retched. Grabbing a bowl of soup, she quickly strode over to the table and sat across from Val. Roa fixed a strong and sturdy gaze on Snaveling and spoke.

"Very well, Man from the South, your terms are accepted. You may repay your debt by assisting me when asked, and aiding those here. When such a time comes, you will accompany me the Gondor to seek an audience with the King." With that she began to eat.

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

It was a hard hour that Snaveling passed in the sullen and silent company of Valthalion while he awaited Roa’s answer. He suspected that the Dunedain Woman had left him in the company of this youth intentionally, so that he could keep an eye on Snaveling should Roa decide that she did not want to wait for her King’s justice, and meet out some of her own. Toby, as usual, attempted to keep up his spirits with light conversation, but it was of little use. Even Galadel’s presence, normally such a comfort, was unable to alleviate all of Snaveling’s misgivings. He stared down at the table top and tried to bring his thoughts into some kind of order.

He remembered back over the weeks that he had spent at the Inn and all that had transpired in that time. He could hardly believe that he was not on the Road, seeking his own path. Roa had released him from her bond, and he had not left. He shook his head in bewilderment at himself. He turned to Toby, who had fallen into a deep and brooding silence at his side. “Am I the biggest fool you have ever known?” He saw the searching look in Toby’s eye, so explained. “I came here with no plan other than to take a bit of rest before looking about me for some way to work some mischief to my advantage. Nothing horrific or grand…just some little scheme or thieving so I could make a bit of coin. But then I met Roa, and Val, and My Lady Galadel – and you, you old rascal! – and now here I am, having been freed from my bondage, willingly offering myself up for her pleasure!”

Toby thought for a moment and then replied, “It is, indeed, a surprising turn of events.”

Snaveling laughed lightly. “It is indeed, my friend. It is indeed.” He paused, and his face became grave once more. “Can you imagine me standing before the Throne of Gondor, asking for justice from that King of Roa’s? My very blood runs cold at the idea of having to face that Man. From what I’ve heard of him, he is not a Man to be taken slightly – nor is he overly gentle with those whom he considers his enemies.”

Toby put his pipe in his mouth and adopted what Snaveling had come to know as the gentlehobbit’s ‘philosophical air’. After one or two contemplative puffs he spoke. “Now, you know my opinion of most folk from beyond the Shire – present company excluded of course! – but this King Elessar, from what I’ve heard tell, is as decent a Man as you can find. I’ve heard it direct from those who should know that he is fair and rather sensible (for a Man). And he spent a good part of his life in this part of the world, so there’s some hope that he has a bit more hobbit sense than most Men. I think, Snaveling,” he said, as though concluding a speech to a miscreant hobbit lad, “that you can expect fair treatment from the King.”

Snaveling hung his head. It’s fair treatment that I fear; for what is fair after what I have done, other than my own death? He looked up to see Roa before him, and he could tell that her fury was unabated, but under her control. Galadel stood just behind her, and the Elf gave Snaveling a comforting smile. Snaveling tried to return it, but only a pained grimace contorted his features. Roa straightened her shoulders and delivered the speech that she had clearly prepared for him. Snaveling wondered if she were even aware that her hand rested on the pommel of her sword throughout it…

When she was through, she sat and began to silently attack her meal. Snaveling did not know what to say, and twice tried to speak. But even as he struggled to say something, a sudden vision arose before his eyes. It was not as it had been in the past, an image in his mind that he could see but with his fancy, but like a physical place in the waking world he saw before him a hunting lodge in a secluded valley, rich with game. It had five rooms, and a patio out back perfect for smoking his pipe of an evening and watching the sunset. And there was a woman there, and she came out of the house…Snaveling’s heart skipped a beat, and he gasped aloud. He struggled to his feet and, mumbling an excuse he rushed out the door of the Inn to the clear sunshine. He leaned against the side of the Inn and let himself remember his hunting lodge.

It was back, more glorious and pure for having been taken from him. He knew then, and understood, why it had been taken from him, and how, and he felt tears on his face. Galadel was at his side, and she was smiling at him, and she put her hand on his shoulder. “I am glad that you have found what you lost, Snaveling.” Snaveling could only nod and gulp down the lump that was forming at the back of his throat. He saw Galadel’s eyes narrow as she took in the fact that he was fighting back more than joy.

He let his mind go back to the patio of his lodge, and to the woman who came out of it to join him in the sunlight. She was tall and fair, and her hair stirred in the wind like flames. She faced him and smiled. It was Roa.

[Will Witfoot]

Indy's word's hit Fungrim like a hammer-blow. She wanted to be like him?. She did'nt seem to realise that to be like him was nothing to asspire to. For a moment all sort's of obscenities flittered through his head, directed at his own foolishness for introducing the child to such ideal's.

He shook his head and regained control of himself once more. She had said that a friend of her had died, so clearly her word's had a much deeper meaning in the past. He smiled somewhat sourly. There is a lesson here, he thought. The entire world does not rotate around you. He took a final breath of his pipe's smoke before speaking up.

"Indy, hatred and vengeance are, in the end, shackle's. They occupy your entire life, eating away at you."

The girl remained silent and looked up at him. He just hoped that the sincerity of his voice was enough to drive all dream's to be like him out of her head.

"At the moment of suffering, such as the moment my sister drew her last breath, hate and anger can seem like appealing emotion's to fulfill the void tragedy has left behind it. But the easiest path is usually not the best alternative, and so it is with vengeance."

"Believe me, hatred is not worth throwing your life away. You know you have lived a good life when you have accomplished something, made something out of yourself so that when youre gone, people will remember you."

The girl seemed somewhat puzzled. "But if hate is not worth your life, why do you fight your war?" She asked.

He smiled at her, a smile wich hent a hefty note of melancholy in it. "Because that is what I swore to do. Amongst my people, an oath is a sacred thing, and though I am weary of it, I will not break my oath."

He settled back once more and re-filled his pipe. "As to when I'll be leaving, I cannot say. I feel that Ive lingered here too long, but I dont want to leave."

He smiled again, happily this time. "I feel like Ive finally accomplished something."

[bilbo_baggins]

Ponto had stumbled into luck; the stranger he had walked into was none other than Enessar, an elf.

"My dear hobbit, I am Enessar! I have come to this Inn before, and I have returned," said the strange elf, who he now knew as Enessar, " I need to join a band of travelers willing to go to a faraway place. Do you know where I might join such a band, my young hobbit friend?"

"Why, no Enessar, I am newly come to this Inn myself. I hope you have luck in your search!" Ponto replied, instantly ashamed that he had not volunteered himself; he watched sadly as the tall, dark-haired elf walked inside the Inn.

"Oh, I wish I knew where my band was," Ponto murmured to himself as he finished his sword routine, "I would like to speak to Oin again, bless his muttering, grumbling soul..."

[Regin Hardhammer]

Regin Hardhammer:

Regin impatiently drummed his fingers on the table and scowled. That morning, Hawthorne Brandybuck had promised him she'd help with planning the party, but she was nowhere in sight. Hawthorne had shown real responsibility in the weeks that she'd helped him with building the Inn. Regin hoped she wasn't falling back into her old, thoughtless ways.

Ah, well, he couldn't wait any longer. There were a dozen helpers seated at the large table in the Common Room, and they were getting restless. They wanted to start discussing the work to be done. Everyone had been so busy finishing up the little odds and ends related to reopening the Dragon that they'd only gotten around to the actual planning of the party at the last minute. Now, they had just seven hours before the first guests arrived. Regin didn't think the Innkeeper would be pleased if Meriadoc Brandybuck or Mayor Samwise came and found nothing had been properly prepared. According to Aman, the Dragon had a reputation for giving great parties, and Regin wanted to make sure that they managed to live up to this.

Regin stood up and explained to the others what was going on and how they could all pitch in, "Fortunately for us," he added, "Ruby and Buttercup have been hard at work baking and cooking. They have fine roasts and pies plus plenty of cakes and stews set aside for the party tonight. Still, they'd like it if some other folk, especially the hobbits from the neighborhood, could bring along samples of their favorite dish and set these on the buffet tables for everyone to sample. We need a few volunteers to arrange the tables and chairs close to the wall, so there will be plenty of space in the middle for dancing. Finally, Mistress Aman has mentioned she'd appreciate it if some of you could help with decorations by setting out bowls of flowers on the tables and stringing up a large banner across the entrance to the Common Room to welcome everyone to the "new and improved" Green Dragon!"

"What about entertainment for the party?" one of the local Hobbits piped up.

"Now, I'm glad you mentioned that.... Yes, we'll need some volunteers to bring their fiddles, and flutes and such to the party as well as a singer or two to get up and perform. So, with all we have to do, we definitely have our work cut out for the rest of the afternoon."

Regin was just about to hand out specific work assignments when he saw the front door of the Dragon push open and Hawthorne came racing into the room, out of breath and obviously excited.

[Angry Brandybuck]

As Aman's eyes slowly came into focus on the present Angry went straight into the spiel he'd prepared.

"Hello there Aman, Angry Brandybuck, Do you remember me? I was only here last about ten days ago but I guess a lot has happened since then...err...Anyway, I've just got back from visiting my parents and they gave me this here guitar" he clumsily held the instrument aloft "and I was err...wondering if it would be alright if at this here party you're all organising I could play a few of me numbers, just alone like, as well as joining the band I'm sure you'll have coming along."

He stood nervously playing with the tuning pegs on the guitar, if he wasn't allowed to play, it wouldn't be the end of the world, if he did then it could be the beginning of something great. As an after thought he also told Aman about the 6 barrels of Brand Oak Bitter he had brought from Wickwar Brewery.

[Crystal Heart]

Crystal watched as Angry played with the pegs of his guitar. She could tell he was nervous about Aman's answer. She smiled softly. There wasn't any good way to try to ease or soothe his nerves. She just smiled at him gently, hoping that that in its self was enough.

"I do know how to keep a beat. I could craft some sort of something. I'm not completely music illiterate," Crystal offered. Her face began to turn red. She didn't like to admit that she could 'keep a beat.' It seemed silly and her old homeland did not find such a thing exceptable.

But she was here now. This was her new home and she was free to make her own mind and do what it was she wanted, within reason of course. As she waited she tried to controll her blush.

[Witch_Queen]

Aduthondiel
Aduthondiel looked around and saw Crystal setting with Angry. She walked over to the couple and noticed that Crystal seemed to be smiling. Aduthondiel smiled, she was glad to see that Crystal was finally happy. She noticed the two was talking, Aduthondiel wasn't sure whether she should go say hi or just ignore the two. "Good evening Crystal. I see everything is going fine now that you have found your dear Angry." Aduthondiel placed her hand on the hilt of her sword but all she did was rub the red ruby that seemed to shine. Aduthondiel remembered how just a few days ago she was talking to Crystal about how life is something that should be held close to you.

Aduthondiel's hair was pulled back behind her head. The cut on her cheek had only became a scar. Her blue eyes was as bluer as the morning sky. Everything was better for her now. She had no one to keep her from her life. She wished she had someone to talk to about her troubles. Calm down! There is no one here you can trust besides Crystal and Hama. Even this Angry fellow isn't to my likings. If thats what human girls are going for now-a-days. I feel sorry for the race of men.

Aduthondiel sqirmed at the thought of 1/2 human 1/2 halfing children. She thought she was going to be sick. Aduthondiel held it in and smiled to keep them from seeing her dis-approval. If it means her being with a hobbit to keep her father from finding her then so be it. Aduthondiel decided that she should go back to Rohan, but didn't know whether or not go alone. "Crystal I'm going to go back to Rohan now. I just hope your father will allow me to return. It seems as if Count has lost his way back to the Shire. I must find him." Aduthondiel didn't like the fact that her horse was without her.

About that time she felt something nudge her on the back. Aduthondiel turned to see that Count was back. She wanted to scream in happiness but refrained from it. Aduthondiel walked to the side of her horse and noticed a scroll placed on the sadle. She didn't know what it said but it was easy to tell who it was from. "Crystal... I believe you should see this." Aduthondiel gave a little tug on the seal and began to unroll it.

She didn't know what to think. Everything was going to cave in on her.
"My dearest Aduthondiel,
It saddens me to find out that your not returning to Rohan. We will miss your elven sword in battle." Aduthondiel shook at the thought of all the battles she had fought along side Crystals father. "To hear that my dear daughter is beyond this life struck me hard. I regretfully have to inform you that I wish to see you once again before you are free from my command. I will be coming to this Shire in a matter of days. I hope to see you and see what you have made out of your life. Upon my arrival I will require that you give me your horse and your dear Nehema. This is how it must be."
General Dorian
Aduthondiel looked over at Crystal, the world and life she had made was about to come crashing down on her.

"I'm sorry." Aduthondiel couldn't think of anything else to say to Crystal and Angry. She knew she was about to loose her horse and her precious elven blade. All she had was those two things, but now she was going to loose them too. What do I do now?

[Esgallhugwen]

There seemed to be a long awkward pause between them before Aldor laughed to break the silence. "Yes long journies do have that affect on people I'm afraid, too bad, perhaps I can meet him later on when he is well rested". He leaned back in the chair and took in his surroundings.

Aldor nearly fell from his seat when he heard the loud voice of Regin Hardhammer, he was accustomed to the quiet musings of the finished Inn and was not prepared for the outburst. Peony giggled lightly at him as he straightened himself out.

"You'd think I would have better balance riding horses nearly all my life" he chuckled, while giving an ear to Regin announcement.

Oh yes the party, how could I forget, and I also forgot to tell Peony of this, perhaps she'll enjoy it. He mused as he turned his gaze back over to her "forgive me I entirely forgot to tell you there is to be a party this evening at the Inn to celebrate is reconstruction and grand opening. Will you help with preparations?".

[Crystal Heart]

Crystal read the letter and swallowed hard in disbelief. The one place her father shouldn't and wouldn't come to was coming!
"Angry!" Crystal said quickly as she put the parchment into his hands. She watched as his eyes read the paper and look up at her, his fear of loosing her already setting into his eyes once again.

"Angry, you have to hide me. You have to hide yourself. Oh, everyone must not know about me! And yet they do! He will know that I still live," Crystal said as tears filled in her eyes.

Her shocked body slipped down to the floor. Her body shook. She was no longer safe in the one place she had made into her home. He wouldn't believe that she was dead. Not when so many people knew that she was here and where she was.

Her only thought now was to run, but her body wouldn't respond. The world as she knew it was coming to an end.

[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman smiled and gave a small laugh before nodding. "Of course I remember you, Angry Brandybuck - and if my memory serves me, 'twas you who played such a fine tune upon a certain lady's heartstrings last time you came, hmm?" She winked and Angry blushed slightly, grinning. "But of course you shall play - didn't you hear Regin? It would be excellent, Mr Brandybuck."

"It's just Angry-" corrected Angry, beaming, before he was interrupted as a wild-eyed elf flew towards them, a frenzied, desperate look on her face.

"Angry!" She cried, sounding desolate and terrified and thrusting a piece of paper at the hobbit. "Angry, you have to hide me. You have to hide yourself. Oh, everyone must not know about me! And yet they do! He will know that I still live!" She gasped heavily, tears in her eyes and one hand on her heart, then began to fall. Aman darted forward, catching her before her limp form hit the ground, and lowered her gently down. Regin had seen her and she caught his eye. "Regin, please could you get a glass of water and some smelling salts from Ruby or Buttercup?" she asked quickly. The dwarf, Illuvatar bless him, didn't protest but instead quickly slipped away. Aman let Crystal settle on her lap, apparently unconcious, and rubbed her hands slightly, but after a second the woman's eyes fluttered open again and she tried to sit up, starting and gasping, the wildness returning to her eyes. But as she tried to stand, she nearly slipped again, and Aman caught her hands, forcing her to calm down.

"Hey, hey, calm down, Crystal, calm down," she said softly, using the voice she had often used on fractious horses. "Shh, I don't know what's wrong but it'll rest a moment, alright. Calm down...listen, what's wrong? Why wouldn't you want someone to know you were alive?"

[Kitanna]

Peony smiled, "I don't know what I could possibly help with, but I would be glad to help with preperations." She scanned around the inn one last time just to make sure Deva wasn't around.

"Just tell me what needs to be done and I will do it."

~*~*~

Deva had checked into the room and had carted his knapsack along with Peony's up to the room. He knew he needed to get back to Peony, but she was old enough to look after herself.

He sat on the end of one of the beds and his feet seemed to cry a thank you to him. "I really should get back downstairs," He said, "But what's a few minutes?"

He then laid down on the bed and was asleep in a matter of minutes.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Hawthorne Brandybuck and the party plans:

Hawthorne came barrelling towards the table in the midst of all the confusion. The Hobbit could see Aman kneeling with the stricken Crystal while Regin ran off to retrieve some water in response to the Innkeeper's plea. Not wanting to intrude on the doleful events now taking place, and seeing that Regin would be occupied for some time, Hawthorne beckoned to the tableful of volunteers to follow her into Mistress Aman's private parlor, a small room situated off the main corridor. The folk who'd come to plan for the party made themselves comfortable inside the cosily furnished sitting room: a few lounged on the braided rag carpet; others found places in the comfortable chairs that were arranged in a semi-circle directly facing the hearth.

At first, a number of the Hobbits quietly traded comments among themselves on the unusual events now occurring in the Common Room, expressing concern for Crystal and trying to figure out exactly what her situation was. Hawthorne quickly shushed them, pointing out that all their curious questions would not help Miss Crystal in the slightest and that Aman was already doing a good job of that.

Raising her voice and rapping on the mantle to get everyone's attention, Hawthorne brusquely explained, "Sorry to be late! But we have too much to do here in just a few hours. First, a piece of luck..... There will be a cart arriving shortly from Bag-end. The Mayor has made a generous gift of cut flowers from his garden that can be set out on the party tables. He's also provided us with plenty of seedlings for the herb and salad beds to replace the ones the ponies trampled."

"Next," continued Hawthorne, "have a look at this!." She held up a large square placard that was emblazoned with bold letters, looking over at Peony and smiling. "This tells everyone how they can help. We'll set it up in the Common Room against the wall near the end of the bar."

Hawthorne stepped back so the others could read the sign. As they crowded around the notice, she could hear the cart from Bag-end come rumbling up in front of the Dragon, loaded down with the flowers and seedlings that they would need.

*********************************************

Hawthorne's placard:

VOLUNTEERS NEEDED

Time is fleeting! The Green Dragon would appreciate your help in preparing the Inn for the party. Please consider helping with any of these chores.

[list=1]
Prepare your favorite dish to share with other partygoers.
Help arrange the tables, set out the flowers, and string up a welcoming banner at the entrance to the Dragon.
Replant the seedlings in the Inn's rear courtyard.
Mosts important of all, bring out your fiddles, flutes and other instruments to get ready for the party.
[/list=1]

[Eowyn Skywalker]

Willow got up from her drink, and went to look at Hawthorn's list of party preparations, along with, as it seemed, everyone else in the room.
Her father had disappeared, probably left to get more pipeweed, as he was like.

She read through the list silently, hardly noticing the commotion in the other side of the room regarding Crystal, for Aman was already helping her.

Reading the list, Willow seen that there was little that she could do to help, for she was no cook, and knew little about gardening, or decorating. However, she could play the fiddle, and smiled to herself.

That was one thing that she could do, and she supposed that she could also help with aranging the tables, a simple enough job. She smiled: there were some things that she could do now.

But one thing was certain, she couldn't wait until the party that night. Maybe Ando would be there.

A warm glow spread to her cheeks as she thought about the gold-haired hobbit, though she had been cursing him but moments before.

She smiled again, and set off to find her fiddle, and get it tuned up, and playable by the evening.

"It has been a while since I've played," she said to herself. "But we shall see whether I still can play as I used to."

[Witch_Queen]

Aduthondiel
Aduthondiel watched as Crystal began to fall down. It was all her fault. Here she was worried about loosing her horse and sword when Crystal had to worry about her life. "I'm sorry Crystal." She turned to Aman. "Miss. Aman is it. Well Crystal's father is coming here to take away my sword and horse since I haven't returned to Rohan." The elf paused, took in a breath and continued. "I sent my horse back with an item to make General Dorian believe that Crystal was dead. Now all my work is going to fall to pieces." Aduthondiel went on telling them about how she had originally came to the Shire to take Crystal back to her father. And how Aduthondiel had a change of plans. "He believes she is dead. Once he gets here then he will find out that I lied to him. Therefore he will take Crystal back with him. Who knows what he will do to my Count."

She ran her hand along the horse's side. Aduthondiel feared now for Crystal's life along with her own. If I hadn't of came her then none of this would have happened. I've got to find Hama and tell him. I don't want to loose Count of Nehema. Yet I don't want General Dorian to take Crystal away from Angry. They are so happy together. Her heart stopped. Everything seemed to be only getting worse with the passing days. "Crystal I will leave this lovely country. I will go back to Rohan, its the only way. Perhaps I will meet your father on the road. If we want your "death" to be uncovered I must leave." Aduthondiel didn't want to leave but she had to. "That's the way it must be."

She dropped her head. Aduthondiel felt bad about everything. "My attempt to do something right has only came back to haunt me. For this I must leave now. That is unless there is something else we can do." Aduthondiel thought everything was only going to get worse for her and Crystal. "After all life is the only precious thing we have besides the ones we love."

[Roa_Aoife]

Roa noted Snaveling's quick exit, and felt a tinge of worry. She quickly brushed it aside. Why should I concern myself? Galadel was following him, anyway, so if anything was wrong, the elf could surely handle it.

There was a large commotion in the room-- apparently someone had fainted. Roa was about to see if she could help when a young Hobbit lass stood up in front of the scene and called out about the Party plans. Instead of walking to aid the young woman, who seemed to be in more than enough capable hands, she walked to see the placard. Hmm.... I have nothing to cook, and I have no instruments. I suppose I shall help with the decorations as I told Toby.

"I can help with the decorations and the planting, miss," Roa told her, "If only you will point me in the right direction." Some labor would get her mind off her troubles. It seemed the sorrow and cares that so often addorn her kin was taking her as well. No, I will not give in to grief, she thought stubbornly and forced a pleasant smile as she went where she was directed.

[Angry Brandybuck]

This all came as a great shock to Angry, and he found all he could do was stand and blink is disbelief and dismay. Soon he gained the power of reasonable thought and saw the dilema. The only way to save Crystal's new life would be to sacrifice Aduthondiel's new life, and vice versa.

Being a Hobbit, Angry had always been one to respect the law in his country and he held it as a shining light in a dark world. So the thought immediately came to him:

"Why not go and see Mayor Gamgee? He's always willing to help people out of a difficult situation, and he certainly wouldn't take kindly to some Rohan tyrant comin' in here an' orderin' everyone around as if he owns the place. And theres no need Miss Aduthondiel, for you to go ridin off like a fool, if you pardon the expression, away from a place that you like; we could hide Miss Crystal easy-like. If I know the Shire, all we'd have to do would be to hide her in the next village along or so, and we'd obviously have to not go out or anything but it would be easy to do."

Angry gestured around him "I mean, look at all the strange folks you get in this Inn all the time, no offence to 'em meant you understand, no Hobbit's gonna be able to tell the difference between a woman from Rohan and a man from Rivendell, let alone a particular woman."

[Witch_Queen]

Aduthondiel
Aduthondiel listened as Angry went on about how they could hide Crystal. She didn't want to cause any trouble. Plus getting the Mayor invovled was something she didn't want to do. "Angry, I do hate to break it to you but it doesn't matter what we do. General Dorian wants my horse and sword. He will stop at nothing until he has finished taking away everything I have." She didn't want to face the fact that she was going to loose something no matter how it was done. She had known Dorian all her life and he had always been the only one who cared about her. Even after he had taken everything from her.

"It is time for me to face the facts. No Mayor for me. Now if Crystal wants to bring in Mayor Gamgee then go ahead. I would rather leave this place and see what I can do to keep my horse and sword. Now if Crystal values her life she must leave here and not be seen for a while." She knew what she was asking was alot. She knew she had to leave and loose Count to Dorian.

She dropped her head and began to walk away from the group. "I must leave to protect Crystal. I have to." Aduthondiel placed her hand in the middle of Count's head. "I will never forget you my friend." She laid her head against the beast's head. Aduthondiel thought she had a tear running down her cheek but she wiped it away. She knew she had to leave it wasn't a mistake but if Mayor Samwise could help them with the problem then he could go right ahead. Everything had to change.

[Crystal Heart]

Crystal sat on the floor, looking out into space. The mayor wouldn't be any help. Her father had legions of men and the hobbits would be no match for them. No, they couldn't bring in Samewise Gamgee in any way.

"My father would kill the mayor, Angry. There is only one choice for me at this point in time. I must leave the Shire. At least for a while," Crystal said softly.

The thought of leaving the one place she was beginning to call home and leaving Angry was too much for her mind to handle. She buried her head in her hands and sobbed. There was no way out this time.

"Just remember me when I leave, Angry," Crystal sobbed through her hands.

[Child of the 7th Age]

GREEN DRAGON INN FACTS:

It is the 4th Age, year 12. By the Shire Calendar it is year 1433 S.R. (Shire Reckoning).

King Elessar is on the throne of the Reunited Kingdom of Arnor and Gondor.

Mirkwood has been reclaimed by the Elves and is now called Eryn Lasgalen.

Paladdin Took, Pippin’s father, is Thain of the Shire. (Thain is an honorary title for the military leader of the Shire. The title has been held in the Took Family since the position was first established in 3rd Age 1979 with Bucca of the Marish as First Thain.) Paladdin Took dies in year 13, and will be succeeded by his son, Peregrin, ‘Pippin’, Took.

Samwise Gamgee is Mayor of the Shire, having succeeded Will Whitfoot in 1427 S.R.

The Innkeeper, in the Green Dragon Inn of this forum, is:
Aman – a young woman from Rohan.

Before her, the Innkeeper was Piosenniel, and before her it was Dwarin, the Dwarf.

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+

Other ongoing characters in the Inn:

Ruby Brown, Hobbit – not married – server and maid

Buttercup Brownlock, Hobbit – not married – kitchen assistant and maid

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+

Ongoing characters from outside the Inn:

Halfred Whitfoot – local Shiriff from Bywater and Postmaster for this area of the Shire; his pony’s name is Dumpling.

Fredgar Hornblower – local Shiriff from Hobbiton – played by Fool of a Took
_____________________________________________

Please Note:

No 'SAVES' are allowed in the Inn.

With the exception of the Innkeeper and the Moderators, no OOC (Out Of Character) comments are allowed in the Inn.

Only the Innkeeper, Amanaduial, or the Moderators move the timeline for the Inn forward.

Visitors to the Inn will need to read the posts that come before theirs to get an idea of what time it is in the Shire, what the weather is like, and what is happening.

Please be familiar with the rules for the Inn and Games in The Red Book of Westmarch, the first topic in the Shire.
__________________________________

IT IS NOW MID AFTERNOON. THE WEATHER IS PLEASANT.

THE INN IS ALLL BACK TOGETHER AFTER THE FIRE. PLANS ARE BEING MADE FOR A REOPENING PARTY.

___________________________________


Party Planning Note:

Please include the party preparations in your posts for the next few days as the placard below suggests. All party preparations will hopefully be completed by late Thursday afternoon (real time), March 18, at which time I will move the Inn forward to the evening and the party will begin.

Cami Goodchild, Shire Mod (Child of the 7th Age)

_______________________________________

Hawthorne's placard:

VOLUNTEERS NEEDED

Time is fleeting! The Green Dragon would appreciate your help in preparing the Inn for the party. Please consider helping with any of these chores.

[list=1]
Prepare your favorite dish to share with other partygoers.
Help arrange the tables, set out the flowers, and string up a welcoming banner at the entrance to the Dragon.
Replant the seedlings in the Inn's rear courtyard.
Mosts important of all, bring out your fiddles, flutes and other instruments to get ready for the party.
[/list=1]

[Witch_Queen]

Aduthondiel
"Crystal you don't have to leave. I'm the one that needs to leave. I have caused too much trouble as it is." She turned around to face the girl. She seemed only a child to Aduthondiel. All she had to do was leave the Shire and never look back. It was simple.

"I will leave after the party is over. I wish to spend one more night with my friends." It all sounded to easy for her. After all Crystal had came to the shire before her. "Crystal it is only right. You have a life now. Don't waste it. Remember LIFE IS PRECIOUS!" Aduthondiel looked at her horse and began to remember their journey from Rohan to the Shire. "You must stay. I will go. Don't argue with me child. That is the way I must let it be."

[Crystal Heart]

Crystal looked up in shock. She couldn't forsake her life for hers! She had already done so much.

"No, he will come here whether or not you ride out to meet him. I will be the one to leave," Crystal said.

She couldn't believe that she had, but she knew her father and knew that no matter what he would come to the Shire and make sure she was dead. He trusted no one and made sure that everything was done properly. He would make sure that her 'death' was authentic and not a scam, in which it was at the moment. If she stayed he would find her. Then all of the end of the world would come. He would bring her home quietly then torture her with beatings and lashings and many other things that Crystal had had quite enough of. She would have to be the one that leaves the Shire, for the safety of her home and for her new love.

[bilbo_baggins]

"Come my young Hobbit friend, we shall help in the party preparations," said Enessar with a smile, knowing he had a wonderful friend now in this adventurous small Halfling.

"Do, lets! I love partys," was Ponto's instant reply, as they headed for the Inn.

"I think they have some tables and benches that need to be set up for the extra people who will undoubtedly show up," said Enessar; and they headed inside.

[Mad Baggins]

Mirabell awoke with a start, and for a moment forgot where she was. She was nestled in the sturdy branches of a small tree outside of the Green Dragon; yes, that's where she was. Sunlight filtered through the leaves, drawing an intricate pattern on her body. She stretched, yawned, and attempted to climb out of the tree. In her sleepy state, she executed a rather clumsy dismount and landed on her bottom. Standing up, she brushed herself off and began to walk towards the Inn. When she got inside, she noticed several patrons examining a placard. Mirabell jostled through the crowd and read the words upon said placard.

"Bring musical instruments?" she said, thinking. Remembering the little flute she had in her dress pocket, she took it out and looked it over.

"I wonder if Aman would let me play at the party?" she wondered aloud, and made her way towards the bar to ask the location of the innkeeper. A hand waved her towards the end of the counter, where Aman was keeping busy. Mirabell went over to her and cleared her throat.

"Hello, Aman. I was going to ask you, would it be possible for me to play my flute at the party?" she asked, lifting up the flute to show her. Coughing, she waited for a response.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Hawthorne Brandybuck:

As late afternoon gave way to early evening, the preparations for the party were drawing to a close. The tables had been arranged along the wall with a spacious area cleared out in the middle of the floor that would soon be filled with many folk dancing once the music had begun. There was a small niche to the side just adjacent to the bar where Regin had reserved a spot for the musicians to perform. Large bowls overflowing with flowers graced each of the tables, adding to the overall festivity of the room.

Ruby and Buttercup had been feverishly engaged in cooking and baking for the past two days. They were particularly eager to please Cook who was expected to return sometime that evening. The two Hobbits had outdone themselves preparing a vast array of recipes designed to please the palates of all the guests who would be attending-- Hobbits, Men, Dwarves, and Elves. In addition to the efforts by the staff, there were a number of other platters and bowls overflowing with delicacies that the residents of Hobbiton and Bywater had dropped by the kitchen earlier that day.

Eel stew, fine beef pasties, and steak and kidney pie were crowded together on the main table along with crusty loaves of brown bread, a large bucket of apples and a varied assortment of dishes that featured mushrooms as their main ingredient. On a side table sat many deserts: apple cobbler, sweet honey cakes and dishes of candy reserved especially for the children.

Hawthorne and Regin stood together at the front of the Common Room mentally checking off last minute preparations to make sure that nothing had been forgotten. Hawthorne looked down at the list of musicians that Aman had just presented to her. At the head of the list was Mirabell's name who'd been the last one to sign up. Regin and another Dwarf had worked hard to put the finishing touches on the giant banner that now hung above the Inn's front door. Emblazoned in bold letters, the sign welcomed partygoers to the rebuilt Dragon and invited them to join in the celebration.

The front door to the Inn was still latched shut. At that moment, Hawthorne heard a scuffling noise in front as the silver bill repeatedly pealed out. The Hobbit lass ran to answer the door. Throwing it back, she spied a number of partygoers standing on the steps anxious to begin their celebration. At the head of the column stood her Uncle Meriadoc Brandybuck who'd just arrived in from Buckland. With a warm hug to Merry, Hawthorne welcomed them all inside. The party to celebrate the rebuilding of the Dragon had finally begun!

[Child of the 7th Age]

OOC Comment:

The party at the Dragon has begun! Please craft your posts to reflect this celebration.

Pio and Child

[piosenniel]

~*~ NOTICE OF NEW GAME OPENING ~*~

This RPG Discussion Thread will be opening soon:

Himaran's game: Search for Rhûn (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showthread.php?s=&threadid=10484)

Please read the proposal carefully and submit your character requests to the Discussion Thread as Himaran has requested once it does open.

Do not submit Character Descriptions and Posts to me.

Should be a fun game!

~*~ Pio

Check the Inn for further notice of the Discussion Thread opening.

[nynnd1]

Bredan of Gondor walked through the door, he had heard the noise from afar and did not know how his entrance would be taken, as it happened nobody even seemed to notice him, but that wa snot necessarily a good thing. It looked like the scene he expected from the stories of the Hobbit's and their land which he loved to hear, small people dancing and singing merrily, but he had not forgot his troubles, the troubles that he had since leaving the white city where he grew up.

It had been a peaceful journey from Gondor, until he was attacked at Sarn Ford by the wild men, he was still hurting, even though he had fought them off. The fact that they had stole his horse, Sam (for he had named him after his favourite character from his favourite tale) had not helped, for the walking had put back the time in which his body had to recover.

As he went to sit in the corner he smelt the room, the atmosphere just seemed to lift his worry, the shire was just what he needed, he just hoped they liked him.

[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman surveyed the room proudly: once again the Green Dragon has put on a spread worthy of any Gondorian hall. And it will be a party fit for any part of the Shire too, she added to herself, despite the non-halfling nature of the Innkeeper. But it wasn't quite ready yet, the Innkeeper was convinced; something was missing...Aman narrowed her eyes as she looked around the tables, sure she had missed something out.

Darting back into the kitchen, the woman visually checked everything. The rest of the cakes for later were laid out, hundreds of little teacups lined the surfaces for when coffee and tea would be served, jugs of squash, readily prepared to be brought out when the drinks already there were finished, sat covered in a clump in the middle of the central table: orange, apple, cranberry, summer fruits, pear. In the gaps and on the shelves were perched various sweet, sugary and savoury delights to be brought out on the trays stacked at the side later. Hands on her hips, the Innkeeper finally had to conceed, as she stared around the immaculately prepared kitchen, that maybe it was all ready...

Fiddling with the fine, cream-coloured linen sleeves of the long-sleeved underdress she was wearing under her pale blue dress, the Innkeeper then absent-mindedly straightened the slanting, elbow length sleeves of the overdress, mentally going through the arrangements for the party. Hawthorne is in the Common Room, Ruby and Buttercup getting ready upstairs, barrels filled behind the bar, food out on the trestles, extras in here, musicians notified and practised, Vinca arriving this afternoon!...I'll just get the trays of sweets ready now, to save time afterwards-

Aman's fidgety mind was caught mid-sentence as the silver bell at the door, not often used because the Inn was so rarely closed, pealed out clearly through the ground and first floor. The Innkeeper heard Hawthorne run for it and closed her eyes, steadying herself for a second, before opening them, a smile spreading onto her face. Think, Amanaduial - how many times have you really messed up at the Green Dragon?

With that reassuring thought in mind, the Innkeeper opened the kitchen door and swept majestically into the Common Room as the visitors entered, flowing around the small figure of Hawthorne, who, Aman could now see, was just parting from an embrace with another hobbit...

"Master Meriadoc!" she exclaimed, delightedly as he turned. Forging forward through the generally mid-torso high crowd, Aman then knelt down in front of the hobbit so as to be on his level, shaking his hand warmly. "Welcome to the Dragon, Master Brandybuck."

"Master Brandybuck? Goodness me, Aman, how distant - it's still Merry, as it ever was," came the pleasant reply accompanied by the mischievous twinkling of his bright eyes as he added, "Unless I am to call you 'Miss Amanaduial'?"

"It is Aman, as it ever was, Mast- Merry," Aman replied, smiling back, then straightened up. "Welcome again - I'm glad to have you here. I must greet the first influx of guests at least, but I hope we shall talk later?"

"Aye, Aman, I hope so," Merry agreed then, nodding politely, he turned back to Hawthorne as Aman made her way to the door, shaking hands and exchanging smiles, comments and compliments with the newcomers, human, elven and halfling. Through the elegant new door, the sun could be seen hanging nearly halfway between it's peak and the horizon - midafternoon, and as the party began, Vinca, Zimzi and Derufin drew ever nearer...

[piosenniel]

~*~ RPG Discussion Thread Open To Take On Players ~*~

The Discussion Thread for Himaran's new RPG, Search for Rhûn (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showthread.php?s=&threadid=10484), is now open for prospective players to take a look at.

Please read the proposal carefully.

Follow the instructions for the characters that Himaran requires and submit your character proposal directly to the Discussion Thread - don't send them to me.

Should be a fun game!

~*~ Pio

[Witch_Queen]

Aduthondiel
Aduthondiel looked around to see if she could find Crystal. She had seemed to reluctant to leave the Shire earlier that day. Evidently she doesn't know her father as well as I do. After all I have spent more time with him than she has. The party was coming along good. Aduthondiel was suprised to see so many people there. Count was with the other horses, so Aduthondiel had nothing to worry about. It would take General Dorian a few more days to reach the inn. "Crystal?" Aduthondiel looked at the figure in front of her. The girl looked so different than she did earlier. "Can I speak with you for a little while?"

The look on her face changed, she was no longer thinking of her own safety. "Crystal there is one thing I must tell you before I leave tonight. You have to promise me that you will not leave the Shire. You have to stay here with Mr. Angry. You have made something out of your life. That is one thing I dont' want you to give up on." Aduthondiel shifted her position. "You have to stay here. I'm leaving and you can't stop that. After all I have eternity to make peace with the world. You only have now." She knew her words sounded like commands, but she couldn't figure out a way for them to seem sincere. "Crystal you must stay here. Maybe some day I can return. Perhaps to see the day in which you are to be married to some lucky man. On that day I will return with news of your fathers death. Then perhaps we can both move on with what life has for us."

Aduthondiel looked at Crystal and tried to force a smile but couldn't. Aduthondiel remembered when Crystal was a little child and had none of the worries she had now. Yet she knew times had changed and Dorian had only became cold hearted and cruel to everyone but her. She couldn't figure out why Dorian had always beens so kind to her but evil to everyone else. Aduthondiel had so much to look forward to in her life that now she knew she had to stop Dorian from coming to the Shire. "Crystal, have you seen Hama?"

[Silent Sam]

Pippin and her cousin Merry surveyed the goings on of the inn with great intrest. They were both named after two of the four hobbits who had disappeared on a strange journey, those many years ago. Being still in their early tweens, as soon as they had caught word of there being a party, each had come as fast as thier hobbit feet could carry them.

Pippin's auburn curls fell into her eyes, drawing glances of her hobbit-boy clothes she was accustomed to wearing rather than traditional dresses. This made some of the elders scowl at her for not being a proper young girl, but she never noticed, or perhaps never cared. She wandered about the crowds looking for cousin, greeting people as they passed, and occasionally having to jump out of the way of the busy servers.

Merry wandered along the food-laden tables, every dish looking more tantilizing than the one prior. He reached out for a particularly large apple, and recived a light tap on the hand from one of the older hobbits.

"Here now lad, shouldn't y'be sayin' 'hello' to some of the others before you go straight to the sweets?"

"Hello" Merry replied, grinning.

The old hobbit shook his head, and disappeared into the crowd leaving Merry to snatch up his sighted prize...

[Galadel Vinorel]

A silver bell could be heard ringing across the yard. Smiling to herself, Galadel hurried dressing and pulled her worn, brown cloak on. She slipped her hood over her head, and tied a soft, silver case to the golden belt that graced her slender hips. Leaving the small tent that she had been given to change in for the party, she smooothly walked across the yard towards the main building of the Green Dragon Inn.

The elf entered the main hall of the remodled inn. Inside were gathered a variety of folks, all laughing and drinking, and having a splended time celebrating after their long labor. Galadel smiled and nodded to a young hobbit lass that came up to her and asked very politely if she could take her cloak. Unhooking the clasp near her neck, the cloak fell from her as she caught it in her arms to reveal the dress that elf woman was now wearing. It was a very simple, silver dress, with only a golden belt around her waist, and a thin line of gold emboridered in the shape of an ivy vine at the heam and sleeves. At her side hung a silver case, and upon her feet she wore slender silver shoes.

As the hobbit lass moved away to tend to the other gathering guests, Galadel drifted towards the fire. She stood there for a short time, warming herself, one of her hands constintanly fingering the silver case at her side. Finally, after a few more partygoers had entered the main room, Galadel pulled her flute from the case at her side. It was a wooden flute, with the shapes of animals and other forms of nature engraved in gold and silver on its sides. The beautiful instrument had been made from the wood of one of the trees of Lothlorien by her older brother, and was very special to her.

Turning around, the elf spotted Snaveling and some of her other new friends entering or gathered there in the room. Nodding to the man, Galadel brought the flute up to her mouth, and quickly choose a piece to play. And then she began to play. The soft, gentle music of the flute floated in the air, and as she played people gradually became silent to turn and listen to the music.

Yet, Galadel did not notice the many faces staring at her, for she was lost in the gentle lullaby that she played. She poured everything that she was into that piece, expanding it, making it longer, and yet structured so that it stood on its own, unaccompanied, and yet was whole. Suddenly Snaveling stood forward from where he had been standing next to Tobias. Looking at him, the elf nodded and, never missing a note, changed her melody. And then the man of the South began to sing.

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

All day Snaveling had avoided Roa by helping replant the herb garden with slips of plants donated to the Inn by a well-to-do hobbit. Many of the herbs he was familiar with, but some were unknown to him. The Kingsfoil had been a welcome surprise and he had lingered long over its glorious odour. Many a night he had comforted himself with a highly-scented tea made of the herb, according to a recipe long known and cherished by his people. Eventually, the shadows had lengthened and the sky had decorated herself with stars, and the workers outside had gone off to prepare themselves for the party. Snaveling had retired to his makeshift bed in the stables – the Innkeeper had offered him a room in the remade Inn, but he preferred the privacy of his stall – and made himself as ready as he could. There was not much he could do, given he was already wearing all the clothes that he owned. Still, he had been able to give himself a good scrubbing with the help of a handful of hay and a bucket of water, and he had sharpened his knife to shave off the scraggly black beard that hung from his face like moss. There wasn’t much that he could do with his clothes, but he dusted off the muck as best he could and did up all the ties and buttons. The last thing he did, almost as an afterthought, was to take the small amulet from beneath his tunic where all could see it.

He entered the Inn with trepidation and anticipation. What met his eyes staggered him; having spent the better part of his life alone and in the wild, the plenty that awaited him within the common room was at the limits of imagination. Tables groaned with food, and were decorated with huge bunches of fresh flowers. Garlands hung from the walls and ceiling rafters, and a large fire blazed in the hearth, filling the room with warmth. Candles and lanterns added to the light, to the point where there was no shadow upon the evening. The Room was already filled with gaily dressed people, and there was music and talk and laughter from all directions. Snaveling paused for a moment on the very threshold, ready to flee should the crowd take notice of him and realize that he did not belong. But then his eye fell on Roa where she stood chatting gaily, and he stepped forward into the warm embrace of the party.

He stood in a corner, his eyes on the Woman and his heart in turmoil. He did not know what to think of his vision: ever had the woman in his dreams been a faceless person, defined solely by the comfort that she would provide him. She had been as much a feature of his lodge as was the carved front door and the bench of hewn logs at the eastern wing where he could clean his kill. But now she was a person, and one who was far more than a domestic drudge. He wanted to have Roa with him in the lodge just to be with her. The idea of actually wanting to share his life with another was so new to him that he hardly knew how to approach it – all he knew for sure was that Roa was altogether admirable and entirely beyond his reach. Recognizing this gave him an intense pain in his guts that was not altogether unpleasant.

He was drawn from his reverie by a music that felt like sunshine in autumn, and he looked about for the source of it. Galadel stood by the fire playing a tune on a little flute. The melody spoke deep to his hear, and like all Elvish music it took on a form that he saw. Green fields opened before him, and the cry of seabirds rang out. For a moment, he even felt that he could smell the slight tang of saltwater. Galadel altered the tune and looked at him. Seized by the music, Snaveling stepped forward and put the vision into words:

Flow down, cold rivulet, to the sea,
Thy tribute wave deliver:
No more by thee my steps shall be,
For ever and for ever.

Flow, softly flow, by lawn and lea,
A rivulet then a river;
Nowhere by thee my steps shall be,
For ever and for ever.

But here will sigh thine alder tree,
And here thine aspen shiver;
And here by thee will hum the bee,
For ever and for ever.

A thousand suns will stream on thee,
A thousand moons will quiver;
But not by thee my steps shall be,
For ever and for ever.

It was an old song, one that he had not heard sung since he left his homeland, and singing it took him back to much happier times in his life: times when he enjoyed the company of others and looked to them to provide the kind of solace that the lonely spirit was unable to bring itself. He looked about him, and was terrified to see the many faces of the guests openly staring at him – some in amusement, some (those who had knowledge of him) in open shock. Roa’s eyes were, however, perhaps the widest. He looked at her and, made bold – or driven mad – by the music, he sang again:

All things uncomely and broken,
all things worn-out and old,
The cry of a child by the roadway,
the creak of a lumbering cart,

The heavy steps of the ploughman,
splashing the wintry mould,
Are wronging your image that blossoms
a rose in the deeps of my heart.

The wrong of unshapely things
is a wrong too great to be told,
I hunger to build them anew
and sit on a green knoll apart,

With the earth and the sky and the water,
remade, like a casket of gold
For my dreams of your image that blossoms
a rose in the deeps of my heart.

He fell silent, as did Galadel’s flute. Snaveling slumped into a chair, his heart pounding in his ears, and called for ale.

[astarielle]

The door banged open whith a loud 'thump'. The floor boards creaked as a black boot stepped into the light of the in, quickly followed by another but with a hole in the end. The owner of the boots was that of Astarielle, an Elf from the woodland realm. She had been gone from the area for many a month on end and slowly walked, half limped, into the inn. Her travelling cloak was smothered with what can only be described as muck, go any further than that and you probably wouldn't want to know. In be frank the only part of her which was not absolutely filthy was her eyes, they still shone with the radiance of a thousand stars.

She closed the door silently, quite contrary to her entrance, and made her way to a comfy corner. She sat down as if she had not in weeks, which was probably quite true. Her travels had taken her near and far, over land,water and moutains to places rarely seen. Through snow, hail and driving rain with no thought for what she had left behind, just this moment in time. Now she returned to the place she left long ago to recuperate before setting of on another adventure with old friends as well as new.

She sang to herself, an old elven tune sung to children, those leaving and those returning;

It is a long road,
Winding ever onwards,
Never ceasing for the weary
Or those that dwell on the past.

You know where your feet have trodden
but have know idea where your next step will take you.
Walk on, walk on, with joy in your heart
Embrace life, unending
For you carry the hopes of us all
Our child.

[Roa_Aoife]

Roa was dressed in a simple country dress another guest had lent her. All she had brought with her was a single change of clothes, and they were a traveler's fare to be certain. Usually, she did not concern herself with such things, unless appearing in court. This, however, was a truly special occasion, for the fruit of their long labors was being celebrated. Roa also new that two sets of clothing would not do for much longer. I shall have to see to some purchases...

Roa was not in a particularly festive mood, but soon the atmosphere of the room gathered her in it's embrace, and she relaxed a little. She was quickly swept into a lively conversation. Some asked her for news of the outer world, and she in turned inquired about local business, a topic she had not been able to discuss till now. She quited a little when Galadel began to play. Elven music was a treat to her, despite it's familiarity. Did not her Queen bless the land with her gracious prescence?

She stopped talking all together, though, when Snaveling began to sing. She could not even hide her surprise. He looked at her while he sang. For a moment, the gaze made her question her own actions, but her memories were still fresh. Roa let her face harden, and she quickly turned away. The song ended, she her him call for ail, and she busied herself again in conversation. A hand on her shoulder with drew her. Turning to see Galadel, she excused herself.

"Youu must be tired," she the elf-woman. "Why don't you help yourself to the food?" Roa smiled and obliged her friend. They found a table together and sat down to talking. Galadel was quickly driven to a fit of luaghter from Roa's antics. Roa herself new that her friend would only play along for a short while. Then, she would address the ice that had encased itself over Roa's heart.

[Kransha]

Tobias Hornblower wandered through the raucous din, wading past folk of every age and size as if they represented some dense ocean to be forged with haste. He held onto the small tin mug clutched firmly in his hand with all his might, but could not stop the overflowing froth to splash out onto the unwary backs of some hapless inn-goers, though they didn’t seem to notice at all. The hobbit wore his finest and was acting in the most polite manner he could. Having abandoned the gaudy sequined vest that had been singed beyond repair that day which seemed so long ago, he wore his brightest, flashiest outfit and his warmest demeanor.

He heard countless noises, mugs clicking together noisily, the endless buzz and chatter of conversation, and, from the darker corner of the room, a smooth but stern melody. The elder gentlehobbit heard a cry for ale ring from nearby, and a fervent one at that. He normally would’ve ignored the plea, but he knew who it came from. It was Snaveling’s voice undoubtedly. Toby suddenly realized that the melodic tune that had just coursed through his ears was Snaveling’s, though the man’s course voice had been strangely altered for the better as he sung. 'Strange indeed.' thought the hobbit as he scurried to Snaveling.

“Here you are. It was you who called out for ale, was it not?” he chuckled.

Snaveling wrenched the brimming mug from Toby and imbibed most of its contents in an instant. After a great quaff, he lowered the vessel and nodded to the hobbit, seeming gratified enough to please Toby.

“Master Sna- I mean Snaveling…that was indeed a memorable piece of work. I am, for once, chagrined that I know not the ways of outsiders. The only songs I can sing are the more jovial tunes of the Shire, and they are naught compared to that. I suppose I can sin as well as the next hobbit, but you would not desire to hear my rambling tunes. You have more talent in song than I had thought, Snaveling.”

Snaveling nodded but Tobias could barely tell since most of his face was hidden by the mug again.

“Did I not tell you that you would do well to stay for this gala event? I promise you, my friend, by the end of this night we will all be a great deal happier. We will each pay our debts to this place for bringing us together. You have your way…and I most certainly have mine.”

Toby muffled another laugh as he patted his bulging vest pocket meaningfully and turned to the crowd.

[Mad Baggins]

Mirabell weaved in and out of the crowd, smiling politely and nodding to those who looked down at whatever was pushing them. Her blue sprigged dress swished about her legs and her hair bounced on her shoulders. She hummed a little tune and reached a table, where she sat down on a bench with a sigh. Mira tossed her curls out of her eyes and surveyed the scene. People milled about, enjoying the party and chatting with others.

Mira hopped off the bench and walked about in the crowd, looking for someone to chat with. She saw a young hobbit giving someone a brimming mug of ale, then patting his vest and turning away towards the crowd. Stepping towards him, she curtsied and said, "Mirabell Baggins. Would you like to have a chat with me?"

The young hobbit turned towards her, a bit startled at the sudden question. Mira smiled kindly and waited for a response.

[Crystal Heart]

Crystal looked around the room and shook her head.

"Actually I haven't seen Hama in a while. I will stay here, but I want you to know that I do not like the fact that you are risking your very life because of me. That being said, I thank you. I've never had anything stable in all my life. You have given me a great gift, one that I wish I could give back to you," Crystal said as she continued to look around the room.

Everyone was in high spirits, something that Crystal hadn't seen in a long time. She smiled. This was her new home. This was her new life. No one, not even her father would take this away from her. Everything was going to be alright now.

[Witch_Queen]

Aduthondiel
"Crystal there is nothing to regret and only everything to be thankful for! Always remember that what I have given you is something that anyone can take back. I am sorry that I had originally planed on ending what you have now got. I only wish that I had been there with you longer." Aduthondiel knew that what she was going to do would only make her life worse. "I just don't want to loose Count. He's my best friend." She could tell that everything she had accomplished would be the best things she had ever done in her life. "Crystal I hope that I can return to the Shire some day."

Aduthondiel was glad to see that everyone was in such happy moods. She knew it was now official that the Inn was complete and her life was going back to the same horrible state. "Crystal if you see Hama tonight tell him I need to see him. Perhaps I won't have to face your father alone. Who knows what mood he is in now." In the end I know I will regret my decision. If only I hadn't let my emotions get in the way of my duties. Aduthondiel would soon be alone in the world. "Crystal do you remember when you was just a little girl and no matter how hard your father tried he couldn't keep up with you. Now those were the days." Yes but that was also the time that I had first vistited Rohan and didn't know what it would be like to be a Elf shield maiden of Rohan. Oh well it was still the good days. She couldn't remember a time when she was happier. For once in her life she didn't have to worry about whether she would complete her duties or fail only to disappoint the general.

"Yeah those were the good days. Back then the only pleasure in my life was watching you and your father." She missed the easy life which was never easy to begin with. "I wonder what ever happened to those days." The past only seemed better to her when she compared it with her life today.

[Crystal Heart]

Bartholomew-Arthur's brother

He hurried into the Inn. He had heard a rumor that his brother's girlfriend now resided here. His eyes scanned the room quickly. He spotted her. A beacon of a memory that shone through the crowded room. He pushed his way through until he stood in front of her.

"Miss Crystal Heart! I am so glad I found you! I bring great news. Your father was ambushed and killed twenty kilometers out of Rohan! My men took him down. He was riding without an escort. See! You must believe. I have his precious sword!" He said excitedly. He held out the sword, no longer shethed.

Crystal's eyes studied it. She held it in her hands. Slowly her face came to realization and burst into a smile. A smile he hadn't seen in years.

"Bartholomew! Do you know what this means?!" Crystal exclaimed. He nodded. Yes, he understood. The killer of his brother had been killed. Vengence had been his. It also meant that Crystal Heart could safely return to Rohan and live her life in peace.

"You can come home Miss Crystal. Isn't that wonderful!" He smiled, but saw that her eyes didn't hold the same joy.

"The Shire is my home, Bartholomew. I shan't be returning to Rohan," Crystal informed him softly. He stood back, shocked. This place was nothing compared to Rohan. She would be looked at differently because she wasn't a hobbit. Who would she stay with? Who would even look after her?

"You can't be serious, Miss Crystal?" He asked in surprise. She nodded her head and turned away. She held her hand out to a hobbit that stood near her.

"Bartholomew, this is Angry Brandybuck. Angry, this is my good friend Bartholomew," Crystal said. Bartholomew bowed his head in respect. It had been years since Arty's death. He never figured that she would move on to another love. And that was what Angry Brandybuck was, another love. He looked into her eyes and he knew that she loved Angry with all of her strength. He hadn't seen her this happy since before Arty's death. He was happy for her, but sad at the same time. Yet, it had been Arty's one wish. He had wanted her to continue on if he had died. He had confinde that in him.

"It is wonderful to meet you, Mr. Angry Brandybuck. I am sorry that you will not be returning to Rohan. Who knows, you might marry the hobbit and I'll return to see you. Make sure you tell me if that ever does happen. I wish you the best of luck," He said as he started away.

"Wait, won't you stay and celebrate. The Inn burnt down a couple of weeks back and we helped build it again. You and I could celebrate the death of my father," Crystal said. He shook his head.

"I'm needed with my men. Good bye Miss Crystal."

"Good bye Bartholomew."

Bartholomew left the happy Inn, feeling as if Crystal had made the correct choice. He hoped she was happy and would await the day when she sent message of her upcoming marriage.

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

As always, it was Toby who knew what Snaveling really needed. The ale coursed through the Man’s blood and cooled the fires of self-pity and rage that coursed through him. What in the world was I thinking? he railed inwardly. And what is it about Galadel that gives her such power over me? His eyes strayed toward Roa where she sat with the Elven woman. Her reaction could not have been more dismissive nor so clear of her opinion. Snaveling was torn between relief and anger. He did not know what he had hoped for or wanted with his song, but whatever it had been he had not received it.

“Did I not tell you that you would do well to stay for this gala event?” Toby was saying, “I promise you, my friend, by the end of this night we will all be a great deal happier. We will each pay our debts to this place for bringing us together. You have your way…and I most certainly have mine.” Toby muffled another laugh as he patted his bulging vest pocket meaningfully.

“What do you mean?” Snaveling asked, intrigued by the hobbit’s manner in spite of his distracted feelings.

Toby merely winked at him, saying “All in good time.” Toby turned away to look over the crowd as a hobbit lass stepped up and spoke to him. Snaveling was in no mood for idle chatter; at the moment, even a brief conversation with his friend was beyond him. Scowling at the entire room, he drained the last of his ale and slipped away from the table. He moved along the walls to where the Innkeeper was standing. He had, of course, seen much of Aman in his weeks at the Inn, but he had avoided all but the most necessary conversation with her. He did not trust the Men of Gondor, but he despised the people of Rohan. As his own people’s nearest neighbours, they were the outsiders with whom they most often came into conflict.

Aman was talking with an especially large fellow – for a hobbit – who appeared to be someone of importance in the Shire. As Snaveling neared them both, they turned and the hobbit looked at him with open suspicion. Aman, however, courteously – if not with great warmth – asked if there were something she could do for him. Snaveling returned the hobbit’s glare before answering the woman. “Is there naught but ale and wine in this place?” he asked. “I feel the need of something much stronger!”

[Kransha]

Toby was distracted from Snaveling’s next statement by a polite female voice behind him. He spun around to face the voice’s source, not entirely ready to be addressed by anyone, but quickly regained his composure and noble demeanor. He quickly assessed the girl in front of him, looking her over from head to toe with his keenly focused hazel eyes, now half-closed and squinting as the mixed light of the inn played upon them.

“Mirabell Baggins.” said the hobbit lass as she curtsied, “Would you like to have a chat with me?”

Toby smiled warmly as thoughts began coursing again through his mind. ’A Baggins, eh? Probably one of my cousins or some distant relation. Well, no matter, she seems to be polite enough and it would do me good to talk to someone besides Snaveling. As friendly as he has become, that man just can’t have a good conversation for an extended period of time.’

“Tobias Hornblower the Third, madam,” replied the elder hobbit as he bowed, executing one of his signature dignified flourishes as he did so, “If a conversation is what you desire, I would certainly not mind obliging you.” He sat down on one of the recently vacated chairs before someone else could get to it and reclined, sighing happily. The atmosphere had elevated his mood greatly and he found that he was much more inclined to start a friendly dialogue with this stranger. He leaned forward in the chair and blinked.

“So…what is it you would like to discuss, exactly?” he queried pleasantly.

[Witch_Queen]

Aduthondiel
She was startled at the news she had heard. Could her great General Dorian actually be dead? In her heart she wanted to cry for his loss but couldn't in front of Crystal. She didn't have to leave after all, Count was going to be her's for as long as they both lived. "Crystal this is good news, but I am sorry to hear about your father." Aduthondiel wanted to say he was a good man but knew in her heart that he was only an evil tyrant. "Crystal now what are you going to do with your life?" She knew she should be asking herself the same question.

What am I going to do now that Dorian is dead? Will I stay here to watch everyone around me succomb to death while I live forever? Aduthondiel was already thinking about how life would be without Dorian around to haunt her every dream. Aduthondiel had an idea of what Crystal would probably do. Crystal would probably go on with her life and marry Mr. Angry. "I guess I don't have to leave after all. Though I can't think of any reason to stay. I have no one here. All my family.. well I'm not sure where they are now." For her age she knew that everything in her past affected what was in her future. She had to change what she was going to do if she wanted to have a happy life.

She tried to recover from the news but couldn't. Crystal seemed so happy now. Yet all she could feel was a sadness deep down. No matter how hard she tried the feeling didn't want to go away. She thought she felt a tear roll down her cheek but decided it was only her mind playing tricks on her. "I guess all our troubles have come to an end. Perhaps if I return to Rohan I will make it in time to see who your father successor will be. If I'm lucky maybe Aduthondiel will be the new General! Wouldn't that be nice." She thought she was going to fall down laughing but couldn't. She let out a giggle and went on drinking her ale. "General Aduthondiel. Has sort of a ring to it."

[Feared Half-Elf]

Elkamia stood in the stables, one hand on the nose of her large silver mare. Annufin had finally been moved inside. 'Valar help me' she thought 'I haven't worn a dress since the wedding of Elessar and Arwen.' She glanced down at herself.

The white dress she wore was simple but elegant, with long flowing sleeves. She didn't need a belt with it, strictly speaking, but she wore one anyway, a long scarf of fine silver fabric. White slippers were on her feet, though she would have preferred something sturdier. Her long brown hair was brushed to a shine, and careflly braided in the style she usually wore to keep it out of her eyes.

She sighed, fingering the silver chain about her right wrist. She always had been one for fights and wars, tending to avoid parties whenever possible. 'I can't avoid it tonight. I've helped them rebuild the inn and I can't offend the people here by not coming to the party. And a party means a dress, however much I hate it.'

She took a deep breath, checked her clothes for loose hay collected in the stables, and went to the common room. The room was a bundle of noise, people laughed and joked to each other. Still nervous about wearing the dress, she looked around at the people in the party, seeing if there was anyone she recognised.

[Esgallhugwen]

Aldor smoothed out the creases on his tunic and took a look at the Green Dragon Inn, the cool breeze swam through the lighted lanterns and the banner welcoming all to join the festivities. "See, Miss Peony, all our hard work paid off after all" he winked and led her inside like a true gentleman.

"Now before you take your seat, we must have at least one dance to ensure you'll sleep the night away with sweet dreams swimming in your head", Peony tried to protest at first but gave in "alright Aldor but only one dance, after that we should take it easy and relax" she smiled and her green eyes glistened like emeralds in the lamplight.

"Believe me miss you can have have just one dance!" he took her hand as a folk song started up, they danced among the bustling crowd as more people came into the new Inn and to pay there respects to Master Meriadoc for attending the joyous occasion.

[Kitanna]

Deva woke from his nap and headed downstairs. There was a party of sorts and everyone was dancing, laughing, or drinking the night away. He looked around in search of Peony hoping she was still in the Green Dragon.

Finally he spotted her, ending a dance with a young man. Deva wasted no time and hurried over to her. "Peony, glad to see you stayed out of trouble while I was gone."

Peony looked down to him and smiled, patting his head. "Nice of you to join us. I thought maybe you were just going to sleep away the whole night."

Deva shrugged and looked past Peony to the man she had been dancing with. "And who is your friend."

Peony became aware once more of Aldor's presence. "Deva, this is Aldor. Aldor, my companion I had told you about, Deva."

[bilbo_baggins]

Enessar had become seperated from his friend, Ponto the hobbit in the dance; he had probably found a hobbit lass, or more likely, some food and drink. As he chuckled at this humorous thought, he noticed an amazingly beautiful lady enter through the door.

He approached her and said, "My dear lady, I am Enessar. Might I have the pleasure of your acquaintance?"

"Well yes, thank you. My name is Elkamia," was the enchanting lady's reply.

"Elkamia, that is a lovely name, is it not? Would you care to dance?" asked Enessar, who desperately wanted to meet this ecstatically beautiful maiden...

[Crystal Heart]

Crystal smiled at the prospect of the new title of General.

"So you will be leaving us to go back to Rohan as well?" Crystal asked. She admitted that she was sad to see it happen. She had become very close to her. She was such a breath of fresh air. A part of her new life.

Crystal knew that she was sad for General Dorian's death. Dorian had always been kind to her for some odd reason. She had always been around him. His death wouldn't be a complete cause for celebration.

But for Crystal it was. The one man that caused her pain, the one man that caused her fear, the one man that caused her grief was finally gone from this world. She had never felt any type of love for her father. He had beaten her and hurt her so savagely that she had wished for his death many times. She had been running from him for years and had finally found one place where she was loved once again.

She had been loved in Rohan by Arty and her mother, but after their death there hadn't been any reason to stay. She had fled shortly after and had lead a life of danger and fear. Then she had come to the Shire and into the Green Dragon Inn.

Her life had changed the night she had decided to stop in for something warm to eat. She had been sick then, almost on the brink of death. She barely had enough coins for the food or for the room that sweet Aman had offered. She had sat upon the stool and believed that she would be dead before the night was through. Then she had met Angry Brandybuck.

His eyes, his face, his words had caused her to hold on. She had gotten to know him and had held on to the fact that she had fallen in love once again. A fact that she now cherished. She had almost succumbed to death, but had held on. Hama had helped her through and Angry's warm hand in hers and his gentle face had kept her holding on to the small ray of life that she had maintained.

Angry had taken her home, had given her a warm bed to sleep in. She remembered that morning as if it were still happening to her.

She had woken up in the hobbit's home with a smile. She hadn't rested in such a way in all of her life. She had gotten up and had walked past the closed door of Angry's room. She had decided to make breakfast for his kindness.

She had made eggs and he had come into the kitchen. She had felt that the scene was so right, so natural. They talked over breakfast, both blushing profusely.

They talked about his parents. Angry wasn't sure if they would agree. Crystal hadn't minded. She said she would keep hope until there was no hope to hold on to.

He had left her shortly after that. He had gone to his parents. She had stayed and kept the house orderly. She felt like an anxious wife who awaited her husband.

She looked over at Angry and smiled softly. Her life was finally wonderful.

[Hama Of The Riddermark]

Hama sat on his horse outside the inn on the road, looking down it. He had his hood covering his face, and after a while he dismounted resignedly and led his horse back to the stables. Entering he saw Crystal and Adu. Walking over he sat next to Adu and ordered an ale. Adu whispered in his ear "Dorian is dead."

Hama's eyebrows raised, but he did not give any open indication of the shock that had just hit him. "Dead? how?", "Outside of Rohan, ambushed."...Hama shook his head. "He was a treeible man, but no man deserves to be killed in an ambush..."

Crystal now turned fiercely to Hama and opened her mouth. Hama raised a hand. "No words from you Crystal. I need to think..."

[Mad Baggins]

Mira sat down, smoothing her dress as she did so. Tobias sat down quickly in another chair, reclining comfortably for a moment. Then he sat forward and asked, "So…what is it you would like to discuss, exactly?” Having done this, he leaned back in his chair again and watched Mirabell.

"Well, Tobias...ah, me...have you a nickname? Mine is Mira," she answered, toying with a lock of hair.

"Yes, in fact I do: Toby," Toby replied, "But besides shorter versions of names, is there anything else you would like to chat about?"

Mira thought for a moment. "Well, let us start at the beginning. I'm from a hole in Hobbiton. I heard that the Dragon was having a grand re-opening party and I decided that it would be a treat to myself to come along. I've been here once or twice before, and thought it a very homely place. I am rather fond of the old place," she said thoughtfully, gazing around at the walls of the Dragon. Snapping out of her reverie, she looked at Toby and inquired, "What about you? Where do you hail from?"

[Eowyn Skywalker]

Willow wondered where her father had went, she hadn't seen him since she had went to fetch her fiddle.

Her old violin.

It was a fine fiddle, she had owned it since childhood, and played it for years, though with all her rush about Ando, the young hobbit who was her brother, she had left it for a while.

And now, she had a chance to play, even if none would listen to her music. It was a fine time to see if her fingers still had their old skill, and to see if there were still people who appereciated fine fiddling.

She smiled as she picked up the bow, and stroked it over the strings. After a test run to tune it up, she headed down to the common room, where the party was in full swing, and people were talking left and right.

She waited till a lull in the music, then picked up her bow, and ran it across the strings in a fast, dancy tune that she had played since childhood.

Willow was aware of people's eyes upon her, but she didn't care. All she focused on was her fingers, and the tune she played.

When she finished, she felt her cheeks burning, and realized that she was standing in front of people...

She dashed away, suddenly embarassed, and ran out of the common room.

[nynnd1]

Bredan rose from his seat, his legs and whole body feeling less tired. The inn was now at the hight of it's time, or so thought, as he had never been to a party of hobbit kind but had heard of them as they were legendary.

He walked to the bar, thinking of his opening line for conversation. He went towards the woman he took as the inn keeper, he had heard people call her Aman. He felt a bit more comfortable talking to her as she was of his height, not being disrespectful to the Hobbits or Dwarfs.

"Why is their a party?" he asked nervously."Is their a birthday".

He really hoped that everyone was friendly, as they seemed to be. He didn't need trouble now.

[astarielle]

Astarielle was in a dream world. To those who say her she probably looked as if she was sleeping, far from it. When she awoke she streched out her back stiffly. There were many more people in the inn now, she had forgotten that a partu was going to take place. Feeling rather self concious in her ragged travel worn gear she left unnoticed my most apart from another Elf of course. She stepped outside and whistled a long wavering note, which seemed to drift with the wind yet against it all the while. Astarielle closed her eyes, as inhibitting one sense hones another, and listened. Clear as a bell she heard it, the familiar thundering of hooves drawing ever nearer.

The glistening white horse came to a stop inches from her feet. Astarielle rubbed its' face with the palm of her hand. She reached over to wear the saddle bags hang a unbuckled one. After rooting inside for a while she withdrew a gleaming pendant with a pale blue stone. she held it up to the light were in hung and reflected the light onto the walls of the surrounding houses. Then Astar moved to the other side of the horse, Talandir, and brought out a carefully folded and wrapped dress. It was long, dark blue and made for her by the finest dressmakers. She smiled to herself, turned to the Talandir and with a mere flick of a finger the horse galloped off into the distance.

A while later she returned to the inn, now feeling over dressed but happier than she had felt in her muddy travelling outfit. She slid in noiselessly and sat back doing, the party now getting into the swing of things.

[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman smiled at the nervous looking individual as she drew out a pint for him, pushing it across the bar. The man (a Gondorian, Aman made an informed guess) smiled gratefully before wrapping long fingers around the brass handle, then Aman answered him.

"Not a birthday, no - or not in the sense of a person's birthday. The Inn - this Inn, that is, the Green Dragon - recently suffered a fire, and the travellers coming by along with the halflings have done the folk of Middle Earth justice," she smiled fondly. "They rebuilt most of it, as it had to be pulled down, but not even three weeks later..." she gestured around her, a small smile of proud slipping onto her sharp features. "Less than three weeks later, I have almost a new Inn, and that is what this party celebrates. And may I ask what your name is, sir? You have not been to the Shire before, I guess?"

"Aman."

The voice did not come from the man in front of Aman, but from another, who spoke before the nervous possibly-Gondorian could speak. Aman turned to see Snaveling standing nearby, half hidden even in the light atmosphere of the Inn. Something had always struck her as wrong about this sneaking, shadowy-natured man, and she had heard gossip...but then, the Innkeeper paid little heed to gossip, being as much of it was about her, and after all, it was a party! "Snaveling, can I help you?"

"Is there naught but ale and wine in this place?" he asked. "I feel the need of something much stronger!"

Snaveling's tone was slightly mocking, but more jovial and slightly louder than his usual quiet mutterings. He has been drinking...such men are dangerous when they drink, I fear... warned the voice in Aman's head, but her expression remained unruffled as she gave a small smile.

"What is it that you wish for, Snaveling, that is 'stronger'?" She replied lightly.

[Roa_Aoife]

Roa and Galadel had been talking for some time, mostly about nonsence. However, Roa could not remove the melody of his song from her head. Irritated, she excused herself for a moment to get a drink. Galadel gave her an all too knowing smile and nodded. Quickly, the ranger found a tray-bearing server.

As she was about to help herself, a slightly too loud and certainly too familiar voice hit her ears. She turned sharply to see him speaking with Aman. Wrinkling her nose in disgust, she decide against the drink. But something else tugged at Roa, something akin to pity, and she tried to push away the saddness she felt for the poor man. Poor man! He would have let you die! He is nothing more than a cold blooded murderer! By this time, she was back at the table. Galadel gave her an inquisitive look, and said, "Is he really? I could have sworn you were mistaken."

[Eowyn Skywalker]

Willow breathed in the night air, relaxing now that she was out of the common room.

"What came over me?" she asked herself. "Why can I never go anywhere where someone would hear me play?"

She picked up her bow again, and gazed out into the evening. Not one to really truly party, she felt more at home where it was silent, though the party still sounded in the background.

She picked up her fiddle again, and ran the bow across the strings, and played a slow, haunting, and mournful melody, that echoed across the hills.

A song that she had known since childhood, and a song that fit with her feelings. When she finished, she felt better, and less scared, for reasons she did not understand.

But still she played, standing out under the faint moonlight, until all her fears had passed away.

"And that is that," she said, smiling. She walked back into the common room, for playing had made her thirsty.

Willow tucked her fiddle under her arm, and looked around for Aman, the innkeeper.

She noticed that the innkeeper was talking with some other people, but still she walked over, even though she hated to interupt other people's conversations. "Do you have any water here?" she asked.

[Kransha]

“Where do I hail from?” said Toby, leaning back again and laughing to himself, “Therein lies a tale which I have told far too many before you. But it is always a pleasure to tell it again.

Reclining further, Tobias Hornblower took a great, guzzling swig of the frothy ale that lingered in his tin mug. He had a great supply of ale earlier, quaffing to his heart’s wholesome content. The elder hobbit began to fear that he was letting the drink get to his head as well as his belly, but he was successful in rattling off the traditional “Hornblower Heritage” story that he’d told Snaveling and Roa several days earlier.

“I am a gentlehobbit of Longbottom, ma’am, and the stunningly green fields of the Southfarthing. There, my family, the Hornblowers, is one of the most respected and honored of the hobbit dynasties. For many long years we have tended the land around Longbottom and exported pipe-weed to the rest of the Shire. In fact, one of my own distant relatives first planted pipe-weed in the Shire and began to increase its popularity. Now, we Hornblowers have his legacy to continue.”

His warm grin remained pleasant, but became less direct as he looked away from Miss Mirabell, staring into the blurred colors of the crowd as it seemed to sway, swell, flow, and ebb around him like multicolored tides with countless rays of light refracting into delicate rainbows through them. It was a beautiful sight, though it was not the sight his eyes actually were witnessing. “And then….and…and I came to the Green Dragon…about a year ago…no, that’s not right, it was about a month ago…or was it a week.” Toby’s narrative oration crumbled as his words began to come out slurred together. Ignoring the fact, he took another drink, finishing off the ale in his mug and carefully inspecting every last drop that clung to its innards.

“Yes, yes, about a month, I think…” he trailed off, the colors of the crowd and the various dim lights beginning to captivate him as the ale mingled with the rest of him. He sagged in the chair, his eyelids drooping. He managed to perk up after a deep breath and almost fell forward in the hobbit-size chair.

“So…how’s life in Hobbiton nowadays? I have many a relative around these parts and I would certainly like to know of any interesting recent happenstances.”

[Amanaduial the archer]

"Do you have any water here?" The hobbit's voice broke into the gap before Snaveling could speak. Guiltily a little glad to have an excuse away from this slightly uncomfortably situation, Aman nodded, unable not to smile as she crinkled her nose a little.

"Of course, miss," she replied, not knowing the hobbit woman's name, and inclined her head slightly. "If you'll just come with me..."

The woman looked slightly surprised, obviously expecting to have just been waiting there, but she didn't seem to mind too much, walking beside Aman on the other side of the bar. She even seemed slightly relieved - although the glinting look which had appeared in Snaveling's eye was not, Aman had to admit, something that many people would immediately want to be nearby for long. But that was not the reason the Innkeeper had led her away - the fiddle under the hobbit's arm told Aman immediately who she was: the hobbit who had played that delightful dance, then dashed away so hastily. From the embarassed rush she had been in, Aman realised the hobbit probably wasn't Middle Earth's keenest performer, but the Rohirrim Innkeeper believed that such talent should be rewarded and complimented.

She darted into the kitchen to fill a glass with cool, clear water and handed it to the hobbit as she came out. "No charge - it is only water," she said as violinist reached for her pocket. But as she reached, her fiddle shifted, slipping, and Aman grabbed the neck quickly to stop the instrument from falling. The hobbit looked intensely relieved and smiled openly, taking back the violin.

"Thank you, Aman." Her voice was warm and soft, as mellow as the sound of her playing.

"A pleasure - it would be a shame for such an instrument to break, of course, especially when it makes such a beautiful sound."

The hobbit blushed, but Aman pressed on. "I heard you before - not only in the Common Room, but when you played in the corridor a few moments ago. Don't worry, I don't think anyone else will have heard," she added hastily as the hobbit looked mortified. "I stepped into the corridor for a moment, that's why I had the pleasure. But listen, that is no ordinary instrument, and you are a fine player. Will you not grace the party with a few tunes later on, Miss...?"

[piosenniel]

GREEN DRAGON INN FACTS:

It is the 4th Age, year 12. By the Shire Calendar it is year 1433 S.R. (Shire Reckoning).

King Elessar is on the throne of the Reunited Kingdom of Arnor and Gondor.

Mirkwood has been reclaimed by the Elves and is now called Eryn Lasgalen.

Paladdin Took, Pippin’s father, is Thain of the Shire. (Thain is an honorary title for the military leader of the Shire. The title has been held in the Took Family since the position was first established in 3rd Age 1979 with Bucca of the Marish as First Thain.) Paladdin Took dies in year 13, and will be succeeded by his son, Peregrin, ‘Pippin’, Took.

Samwise Gamgee is Mayor of the Shire, having succeeded Will Whitfoot in 1427 S.R.

The Innkeeper, in the Green Dragon Inn of this forum, is:
Aman – a young woman from Rohan.

Before her, the Innkeeper was Piosenniel, and before her it was Dwarin, the Dwarf.

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+

Other ongoing characters in the Inn:

Ruby Brown, Hobbit – not married – server and maid

Buttercup Brownlock, Hobbit – not married – kitchen assistant and maid

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+

Ongoing characters from outside the Inn:

Halfred Whitfoot – local Shiriff from Bywater and Postmaster for this area of the Shire; his pony’s name is Dumpling.

Fredgar Hornblower – local Shiriff from Hobbiton – played by Fool of a Took
_____________________________________________

Please Note:

No 'SAVES' are allowed in the Inn.

With the exception of the Innkeeper and the Moderators, no OOC (Out Of Character) comments are allowed in the Inn.

Only the Innkeeper, Amanaduial, or the Moderators move the timeline for the Inn forward.

Visitors to the Inn will need to read the posts that come before theirs to get an idea of what time it is in the Shire, what the weather is like, and what is happening.

Please be familiar with the rules for the Inn and Games in The Red Book of Westmarch, the first topic in the Shire.
__________________________________


IT IS NOW LATE AFTERNOON. THE WEATHER IS PLEASANT.

THE INN IS ALL BACK TOGETHER AFTER THE FIRE.

A PARTY HAS JUST BEGUN - PLENTY OF FOOD, DRINK, MUSIC, DANCING!

[Esgallhugwen]

Aldor looked down at the Dwarf with clear blue eyes "Ah, pleased to meet you at last Master Deva, Lady Peony had said you might be sleeping because you had had a long journey", Aldor shook his hand and invited him to take a seat at the closest table.

He called Buttercup up to the table and ordered a round of ale for his newly found friends. "Forgive my cursiosity, but tell me what brings you here so far away from your own home? Are you just a wanderer like myself?". Aldor awaited the answer eagerly hoping for a story. Deva looked about as if recollecting his thoughts, glancing here and there at all the merry making going on and all the jovial faces bouncing up and down as they danced and sang.

"Well Master Aldor, first tell me a bit about yourself, then we'll see what I can come up with" his beard curled into a smile as he drank from his mug.

"There really isn't much to tell that would make a good story I'm afraid, but I'll tell you anyhow, I'm from Rohan, and though I love the land dearly I can't help but find myself wandering hither and thither across the land, not really in search of adventure or anything like that, just to feed my curiosity about the world. My Mother told me someday that it would get me into trouble, but thankfully it hasn't happened yet". He smiled and took a refreshing gulp of the frothy ale.

[Kitanna]

Deva nodded knowingly. "I too am just wandering to wander. I just enjoy travelling the lands, seeing what I can see."

He smiled and looked over to Peony, "You usually can find some good friends on the road." He paused a moment trying to recall. "I've been travelling for about twenty years on and off. I return home for some amount of time before heading out once again."

"When was it that Miss Peony joined you?" Aldor asked.

Deva took another sip from his mug before answering. "Nearly a year we have been wandering these lands. And yourself Master Aldor, how long have you been travelling?"

[paladin took]

It was a clear sunny afternoon when the tall hobbit Hamstus Teabottle first saw the Green dragon.
"so this is the famous pub" Thought Hamstus .
Hamstus was travelling from the village of Bree, where he lived, to Bywater, where he hoped to get work as a shiriff. He of course was trained for this type of work, infact he was probaly over qualified, for he was a ranger. It was not often that a hobbit trained in the ways of a ranger, it was practically unheard of. But Hamstus was not like the average hobbit. He had a great knowlegde of wild creatures and plants and was good with a sword and bow, But the one thing hamstus did not have was respect and acceptance from his peers, the other rangers. For every good skil he possessed, therewas always a undesirable one, for instance, he could not go long with out food and always wanted to cook things like a gourmet, and this was not a good thing when alone in the woods, being full of theives and wild beasts.
These are the reasons for the move to the shire. Here he could walk in the woods all day and cook delicious foods, well maintaining the simple laws of this beutiful land.

As Hamstus walked across the bridge leading into Bywater, he thought why he Had not ever visited the inner parts of the shire. He had been to Buckland many times, once even travelling into the old forest out of curiousity. When he hd come to buckland it was mainly just to visit his cousin, Namef Brandybuck.
Namef was the one who suggested becoming a shiriff. At first hamstus did not know what he meant by shiriff, but as he soon found out a shiriff was a type of ranger, a hobbit who traveled around his region of the shire keeping the peace.

As Hamstus walked across town to the little pub, he noticed that many of the hobbits had brown hair and dark skin. Hamstus was a odd hobbit, not that he was ugly, but had very elf like features, like blond hair and pale skin.

Hamstus entered the pub. His first impression was that this pub must be very crowded on popular days, for in the afternoon it was already brisking with activity.
Hamstus approached the closet person and asked " do you know you employs the shiriffs?"

[Eowyn Skywalker]

Willow took her water in one hand, and held her fiddle in the other, tightly. She grew very embarrassed as Aman commented that she had heard her playing in the halls.

Aman noticed her seeming displeasure, and continued, "I stepped into the corridor for a moment, that's why I had the pleasure. But listen, that is no ordinary instrument, and you are a fine player. Will you not grace the party with a few tunes later on, Miss...?"

She gazed at Aman, and filled in the blank. "I am Willow Overhill," she answered after a moments pause, for she had noticed that the Innkeeper did not appear to know her name. "I am from the North Moors," she added. "No ordanary fiddle..." Willow perked up, as she sipped at her water. "No, it was passed down from my mother, and her mother before her. It is old, and I am proud to own it. Thank you again for catching it."

She gazed at the violin softly. "You heard me playing, out there. I get nervous when anyone might hear me, but I would be happy to play, if you wish it."

The younger hobbit smiled, and looked up at the Innkeeper, who was so much taller than her. "Yes, I will try to play," she said again. "And thank you for the water, Aman. And who was the dark man you were talking to?" she asked.

She reached up to hold her violin closer, it was precious to her, though some people might not understand the attatchment, beyond the fact that it was old, and had a fine tune; it was also all she had left of her mother, and seemingly now too, her brother, Ando. But that was not the case at the moment. She stroked the fiddle. "The dark man... he looked familiar," she said softly.

Willow looked up again, at the perplexed Innkeeper. "Thank you again for the water," she said. "And I will try to play, if you wish it, Aman."

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

Snaveling glared at the hobbit lass with the fiddle who had interrupted his conversation with Aman. But his rage at the Innkeeper was not any less: he had seen the look she gave him before covering it over with a lighter tone and brighter eye. I do not like you either, Mistress Rohan he sneered inwardly, and if you are too poor an Innkeeper to serve the thirsty, they will have to take care to do so themselves!. As soon as Aman was gone from sight he slunk into the back hall and headed for the cellar door. He waited by it, apparently lingering about the kitchen, for the hallway to be clear. It had been months since he had last tasted ale, but he could remember the effects of drinking too much of it too quickly – and on an empty stomach. He had been so distracted with his worries this day to take much thought for food, and had instead poured his energy into working in the garden. To then cap that off with a pint of ale taken in a few breaths. . . his head (or was it the room?) was beginning to tilt slightly to one side.

There came a break in the stream of people coming through the hall, and like a ferret he was through the cellar door and closing it behind him. He took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the low light and remembered the last time he had been in the cellar of the Green Dragon Inn. It was one of the few rooms of the original Inn that had survived the blaze, but most of its contents were newly bought. He wandered through the aisles of casks and barrels looking for something appropriate to his mood. As he came to the spot where he had trapped Roa he paused and stared at the barrels that stood there. His heart was racing and his mind froze, but he forced himself to move on, shaking his head against the feelings that had threatened to overcome him.

At last! He found what he was looking for. On a high shelf near the back, dusty from years’ internment in the cellar, was a bottle of what appeared to be brandy. Taking it down he pulled the wax seal off with his teeth and then drew out the cork stopper. The vapour of the liquor entered his nose like an invitation, so without waiting for a second he swallowed a mouthful that burned his throat on the way down and started a warm fire in his belly. Smiling with self-satisfaction, he returned to the cellar stairs, carefully tucking the bottle beneath his tunic. As he was about to head up the stairs his eye fell on a stack of wine bottles left on a small table, apparently for someone to bring up for the party. The memory of Roa’s look as he sang came to him then, and for the first time he recognised in it an echo of the dislike and distrust that had been so apparent in Aman’s eye. In that moment he wanted to do something harmful to them both – but unable to strike at them, he decided on the next best thing. Without pausing to think about it for even a moment, he tilted the small table and sent the bottles of wine crashing to the floor.

He rushed up the stairs and opened the door only a crack to see if anyone had heard, but the sounds of the party had apparently drowned out the destruction of the wine. He waited for the hallway to be clear once more and then slipped out. He moved into the Common Room and sought out Toby. The old hobbit and he would have a good time tonight now that they were properly provisioned.

[Will Witfoot]

Fungrim lolled at the smal table next to the hearth. With his clean-scrubbed features, washed clothes and commed hair and freshly plaited beard he made a very different impression from the down-at-heel wanderer who had first shown up at the inn all those weeks ago.
He tilted back his head, letting the foamy ale run down his throat before turning to the fireplace. He surveyed his, and Indy's, handiwork with a quiet joy, taking in all the carvings and little pictures he had made as an extra gift to the inn. Truly it was something to be proud of.

He took a bite of the kidney pie one of the patrons had made, and glanced around trying to locate the child. She had gone with one of the hobbit women, though not by her own consent. Judging by the noice she had made anyone would think that she had been dragged away for execution, rather than for a bath and a change of clothes.

He chuckled slightly at the image of the girl trashing as the little ladies had guided her upstairs. She was a tomboy to the core, treating washing and order like they were some deadly diseases.
Well, it could'nt be helped. It was the party, after all, and it would not do to flitter around in dirty clothes.

He just hoped that she did'nt drown the hobbit's. It would be quite a blow for the innkeeper.

[Witch_Queen]

Aduthondiel
She was relieved to finally see that Hama was ok. Though she could tell that the news had shocked him she wasn't suprised. She turned to Crystal and thought about whether or not she should leave the Shire. "Perhaps I will stay a bit longer. I'm sure if I send Count back with a letter requiring Dorians position I might just get it. That is if no one else has found the right to claim it."

Adu felt that a bit of pressure had been lifted off of her shoulders. Dorian was dead and everything was better. She had finally found friends that she could talk to about anything. Crystal seemed like a daughter to her now. It was her duty to protect her and see that no harm came to her. "That is unless our dear Hama wishes to have the title of being General."

[Crystal Heart]

Crystal smiled.

"Hama would make a great general. So would you Adu. Either of you would be a fine replacement," Crystal said as she smiled.

When she had come back into the Inn she had no idea that this would happen. She hadn't allowed herself to believe that she would be alright in the end. She hadn't allowed herself to think that this could turn out any differently then she had figured it would. She had always figured that he would eventually catch her, beat her, and destroy everything she had worked so hard to no longer have. Mainly memories of him and her past. Now she was able to be herself, beyond his heinous ways. She could be the person she had borned to be. It was a reassuring fact.

[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman opened her mouth to reply, when a resounding crash of breaking glass made her half duck, memories of windows smashed with lungs of fire making her eyes wide and scared. Running back into the main part of the Common Room, she looked around to see several other party goers as shocked as herself, at least two of them Gondorian, and a look of understanding passed between Aman and Crystal. But in those first moments, Aman realised two things. First, that the crash must have been from the cellar, for at that volume it must have been on the ground floor and there was no sign in the Common Room.

Secondly, that Snaveling was no longer at the bar.

Darting quickly to the cellar steps, Aman lifted her skirts slightly and descended hastily. A few metres from the bottom steps there lay a small, upturned table...and the fragmented, broken remains of half a dozen fine bottles of red wine, brought by Master Merry and ready to be served later. Aman stepped carefully over the crimson fingers of wine that reached from the shattered pile, her knuckles white as they gripped her skirt. She knew, of course, who had done it: Snaveling.

Spiteful drow of a man! she thought furiously, her jaw tightening as several choice curses flew into her head. Spiteful, darksome, acrimonious, immoral, nefarious little...

"Mistress Innkeeper, what on earth has happened?" A shocked hobbit boy's voice disturbed the Innkeeper midflow.

The furious Rohirrim woman looked up slowly at him, years of warrior breeding burning in her green eyes as her nails dug into her palms, although she barely noticed, and none but the closest of the spectators gathered at the door could see the effect of her anger in the gloom. And very slowly, she smiled, a chilly, careful smile. When she spoke, her voice was perfectly pleasant, even and calm.

"Please could I ask you all to look out for a certain individual on the premises - a man, of dark countenance, secretive looking maybe. Possibly he may be in the company of a hobbit, Tobias Hornblower, although Tobias and myself have no quarrel. The man's name is...Snaveling." The last word was disdainful: if Snaveling wished to be treated so, he would get what he wished for.

"Why is it that you need to find him, Aman?" an old hobbit woman asked, inquisitive and thirsty for gossip. Aman looked at her, bright-eyed. So Snaveling had chosen to quarrel with the Innkeeper of the Green Dragon Inn...at her feet, the wine lapped just below her skirt.

"I think myself and master Snaveling need to talk," she replied.

[Mad Baggins]

Toby sagged in the chair and slumped forward, nearly landing on the floor. He took a deep breath and sat up again, asking, “So…how’s life in Hobbiton nowadays? I have many a relative around these parts and I would certainly like to know of any interesting recent happenstances.” He leaned against the back of his chair again and stared dreamily into the crowd.

Mira chuckled and replied, "Well, it's the same old Hobbiton. Many birthdays have passed; and births, and deaths. But other than those few minor details...it's been the same quiet Hobbiton."

As if to counteract what she had just said, there was a crash of breaking glass. Toby jumped and looked about blearily, while Mira whirled in her seat and searched the crowd for the source of the noise. Aman suddenly appeared, looking angrier than a pestered bee. She stormed past, heading for the cellar. Mira began to turn back to Toby, saying, "Well, I guess I was wrong..." When she was facing him again, she saw that his head was bowed on his chest and he was breathing deeply.

Mira slowly leaned forward and touched the elder hobbit's shoulder. "Toby...are you awake...?"

He started and jerked his head up, saying loudly, "What? I'm not asleep. How could I fall asleep on such a fine evening?"

Mira laughed and said, "You didn't fall asleep, good sir. You were simply...resting your eyes."

[Galadel Vinorel]

The loud crash of wine bottles echoed in the elf's sharp ears. Few merrygoers heard the noise, yet a few seconds later Galadel saw Aman quickly rush into the main room. Oh no, Snaveling, Galadel thought to herself, You cannot allow your anger to overcome you in such a hideous way. As the elf sat watching the scene unfold she saw Aman quickly dissapear down the hall to the cellar. A few seconds later Snaveling appeared in the main room once more by a different way, his coat looking rather bulgy around the stomach at the moment. The man of the south then began to make his way towards were Tobias sat talking with a hobbit lass.

Expressing her apologies to Roa, Galadel quickly stood up from her table and made her way silently to Snaveling. As she drew in front of him, the man suddenly stopped and looked into her eyes, which were now brimming with red, as anger boiled in her heart. Yet the man was too drunk to realize that that look was very dangerous, and he tried to push past her, yet she moved in his way.

"Move oout of my way, elf. You have no right to hinder me," Snaveling said angrily, his speech slightly slurred.

"No, Snaveling. I will not let you make this mistake. It will cause you more harm than you could ever imagine," Galadel said forcefully, desperately trying to control her anger, "I want you to return the bottle of liquor to Miss Aman and apologize to her for breaking her bottles of wine."

"Why should I? You cannot tell me what I should and should not do. Not, step out of my way!" said the man of the south fiercely, trying once again to push by the maiden. Yet, once again, she held him back. Many of the partiers turned to look at the two, for Snaveling's previous words had been rather loud.

"Snaveling, please listen to me," Galadel said softly, a hint of sadness in her voice, "If you do not do as I say, everything that you have gained in the past few weeks will once again be lost to you and your dreams will fade. I promise you that if you go through with your plan Roa will never speak with you again. Is that what you wish to happen? Is it?"

Galadel turned slightly sideways and looked across the room. Snaveling followed her steady gaze. There, all alone at a table sat Roa. She was looking at them, her eyes wide, wondering what was going on and what they were saying. The memory of his dreams came back to Snaveling as he thought over all that had happened over the last few weeks.

Finally he heard Galadel's voice in his ear once more. "You better make your chose quickly, Snaveling, for here they come for you."

Snaveling looked towards the door where a hobbit boy stood scanning the room, seraching for someone in particular. So, the man of the south thought, and then knew what his chose would be.

[Hama Of The Riddermark]

Hama looked slightly grim. "Adu...If you will, it would most likely be better if it was I who attempted to petition Eomer as I served with him for many years. If my petition succeeds I will be back within a week, after making necessary adjustments such as lifting the death warrant on Crystal." Crystal looked shocked behind his back, but Hama didn't see.

"I can almost guarrantee there will be a breakaway movement still loyal to Dorian's ideals. However I will do my best to quell it." Adu nodded slowly. "Yes, you are right. A human soldier who has fought in many battles with Eomer most likely will have a chance of succeeding the petition..." Hama looked at her. "On my return, Adu, I will make you my right hand." Adu smiled gently.

"Go, Hama. Return soon, with good tidings, a general's livery and several bodyguards!" Hama smiled and turned. He said audibly, "I'll be back in a week if all goes well..." before striding out of the inn and mounting his horse. Crystal and Adu listened to the clip-clop of the hooves receeding down the path...

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

Curse her! Snaveling swore inwardly. Her and all the others like her who won’t let a man have his own way in peace! He glared up at Galadel through his drink-soaked eyes, hearing only a few of her words above the roar that the brandy had set off in his ears. He tried to force his way past her to where Toby sat, sure that in his friend there would be at least one person who would not judge him and hate him and spit upon him for being what and who he was. The Elf woman was much stronger than he had anticipated, however, and easily prevented him from moving forward. So enraged did he become with her that he began to contemplate another use for the bottle beneath his tunic, but his violent hand was stilled by a single sentence of Galadel’s that came to him clear through the fogs of rage, shame, confusion and drink: I promise you that if you go through with your plan Roa will never speak with you again.

His heart lurched at the thought and his gorge rose. Forgetting that he had stolen the brandy he pulled it out from beneath his clothes and took another long pull from it to quell his stomach. The liquor burned through his pain and tore a hole in his rage, letting out a pathetic sob of drunken misery. He lurched forward and caught himself on a table, dropping the bottle with such a crash that for a moment the room stilled and turned its attention toward him. As before, when he was singing, the eyes bore into him with a hateful mixture of apathy, amusement and dislike. This time, however, he could feel the resentment and disdain of the people about him like a thick cloak of treacle, and he could smell their hatred like the vile smoke of a funeral pyre. He raised his eyes toward Galadel and saw coming up behind her the small hobbit lad who had spotted him from the door. Aman then swam into view at the bar. Her eyes stabbed him like daggers and Snaveling knew that there was a reckoning to be had more dear than he was perhaps able to pay.

“Galadel,” he gasped, his voice still bitter and stinging. He was in a mood to hurt, and he flung his words at the Elf as though they were stones. “Why are you always whispering in my ear that my happiness is to be lost? Why cannot you just leave me alone?”

Galadel sighed. “It is not I who besets you, Man of the South. It is yourself. I only offer you my help in the battle that you must continually wage against your greatest enemy.”

“And who would that be?” he mocked. “How am I to tell who is my greatest enemy, when I am surrounded by those who hate me,” he looked at Aman, “or who regret that they ever pretended to befriend me!?” and he glared at Roa.

“Snaveling!” Galadel’s tone staggered him like a slap. “There is very little time. You must choose, now, what your path in life will be. Once before you confessed to a crime – remember the benefits of that! This time you must not just confess but seek to make amends to the one you have harmed.”

The hobbit lad stood before Snaveling. Looking up into the eyes of the much taller Man he said in an important tone, “Miss Aman wants to speak with you!”

Snaveling looked at Galadel and pulled himself erect. Squaring his shoulders against the drink and the emotional storm that wracked his frame, he met Aman’s eyes from across the room and said, “Yes, I imagine that she does. I believe I owe her the cost of a half dozen bottles of wine and a bottle of brandy.”

[Eowyn Skywalker]

Willow grimaced as she heard the sound of breaking glass. She held her fiddle all the tighter all of a sudden.

Aman had dashed off, and she didn't blame her. She knew what it was like when someone got drunk, or what not.

Willow flinched, and wondered if it was that dark man, and if it was her fault. She had, after all, called Aman away from him, even though the Rohan innkeeper had seemed somewhat relieved to be called away.

She drank her water down fast, and stepped out of the shadow of the corridor, and into the common room, though the slightly shy hobbit maiden still stayed on the edge of the room.

It seemed indeed to have been the dark man, but Willow knew that it was not her business.

She slipped back out the door to the halls, and breathed out sharply. She hoped that nothing would come of this.

But she couldn't rid her mind of her dark thoughts about her past.

So she picked up her fiddle, and began to play softly in the corridor.

[Witch_Queen]

Aduthondiel
She was sad to see Hama go but the fact that upon his return Adu would become Hama's right hand person sounded good to her. She wanted to cry because he was leaving but she couldn't bring herself to it. "Crystal, Hama will succeed. I just know it, I can feel it deep down inside. Now I don't have to leave this place. I can stay and watch after you and Mr. Angry. That is if you will allow me to." She had never felt wanted in her life and for a chance she didn't want to feel that way again. Dorian was dead and the only thing she hoped that would become of his death was the fact that Crystal would be able to come out of hiding and she herself would be set free from Dorian's hold on her life.

As much as Adu didn't want to face the fact that freedom had already came to her, she couldn't see herself living a free life. Adu would always be a victim to Dorian's torment and torturess reign in Middle Earth. "Perhaps some day I will be able to see the marriage that has been in progress for the longest time. Crystal allow me to stay here and protect your life until Hama returns with the station of General of Rohan?" Adu opened the door to the inn so that the two could join the rest of the party. Everything was better now that she had nothing to worry about. Hama was going to become General, Crystal would go on with her life, and Adu wasn't sure what would become of her in the near future.

[Esgallhugwen]

As Aldor was about to answer a loud resounding crash silenced the whole Inn, it was none of his business so he carried on with the conversation. "I have not been traveling for as long as you master Dwarf, for about two or so years now, and I too also go home from time to time, to check on my family. My mother worries sometimes you see, especially since I travel alone except for Nessa my chesnut mare she is very much a friend to me".

He took another gulp of cool ale which was very refreshing in the evening. "But I'm very glad to have found some friends today, it can be tiresome to walk the road alone and come to a stop but still finding no one to talk to".

[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman watched, arms crossed forebodingly, as Snaveling rose unsteadily and stumbled from his chair, knocking it over and colliding with that elf, Galadel, as he did so. Aman's anger rose slightly even more. So he would even assault the other customers in my Inn directly! she thought furiously. But Galadel did not seem to mind - she actually took his arm as he slipped, steadying him as he found his feet. As he began to weave erratically towards her, Snaveling's eyes met the Innkeeper's, and she raised her chin to face him. Although she would not to admit it, there was something about this creeping, skulking dark man that scared her...

"Aman...Am...Aman..." Snaveling seemed to be having difficuly speaking as he came to face her, and the Innkeeper realised it was not only the drink which was causing problems, and although his eyes darted away from hers, she could see something else there behind the drink. Turning, she relayed her orders like a general.

"Buttercup, please could you fetch this man a glass of water and bring it to us in my parlour. Let you three servers take charge of the festivities." She turned to the rest of the Common Room at large and smiled. "In the spirit of the party, all drinks from now on shall be on the house! May the food and drink flow freely!"

If there is one thing that makes people, especially the good folk of the Shire, forget their misgivings faster than anything else, it is free food. Good natured murmuring resumed around the room as people turned back to their conversations and there was a sudden rush towards a surprised-looking Ruby behind the bar. Her voice covered by to all others by the amiable chatter, Aman spoke softly to the drunken, sorry-looking individual in front of her. "Snaveling, I wish to have a word with you in which I think you must make a few...decisions."

The man gave his familiar sneer and pulled his arm from Aman's grasp, turning away, but he stopped halfway as if a memory made suddenly tangible held him back. He sagged slightly and turned back. "Lead on, Mistress Rohan," he said, but the spite in the words was too half-hearted for Aman to take any offence. Galadel moved forward to come as well, but Aman shook her head. Usually she wouldn't be as naive to go into a room alone with a drunken man, but Snaveling seemed suddenly limp and half hearted. "Mistress Galadel, I need to speak alone with him for a few moments."

The elf held Aman's gaze with her wise, ancient one, then nodded. Aman smiled, inclining her head, then turned to lead Snaveling to her private parlour. Opening the door to him, Aman followed, then shut the door, shutting out the noise of the busy Inn at the same time. Turning to Snaveling, who had a look in his eyes like a trapped rat, she motioned for him to sit down and seated herself in one of the two armchairs by the fire and began.

"Snaveling, since you came to the Inn I must admit I have had a few doubts. At the very beginning there was some strange news that you tried to trap a woman inside the cellar when the Inn was on fire, which would have been something very like murder. But," she held up a hand as he started to rise angrily then continued. "But I have never really been one to believe gossip. However, will you deny that it was you knocked over the wine?"

A sullen shake of the head.

"And you did it deliberately?"

The man hesitated, then nodded. Aman was slightly surprised - she had not expected him to admit it, and it changed her opinion of him very slightly. When she had seen the shattered wine bottles and their spilt contents, the Innkeeper had had every intention of banning the man from the Green Dragon for the rest of eternity. This coming forward and now admitting his crime made things rather more complicated and spoke of something other than common roguery. She sighed and sat back, looking up at him.

"Snaveling, I have never yet banned anyone from this Inn, but the unpleasantness you showed by that action..." she paused, contemplating him, then sat forward. "Here is the deal, sir. Much as you may think it, I do not hate you - I don't know you, and unfortunately for you, all I have really seen of you first hand is what you did this afternoon. But I know that you worked on the rebuilding of the Inn, and by coming forward, you have showed some further merit and I shall reward it; I will not ban you from the Green Dragon and neither will I take from you your lodgings here. However, payment must be given - can you pay in money for what you...destroyed?" She eyed the bottle of brandy the man still gripped as she said the last word, then moved her green eyes up to meet his dark gaze.

[Kitanna]

"Yes, that's the curse of the traveller." Deva said, "On the road for the weeks at a time and even in a crowded inn no one to talk to." He smiled and took a sip of his ale. "Well, I'm off to let you two enjoy the evening and I'll find my own companion." He bowed slightly to Aldor and Peony as he rose and disappeared into the crowds.

"When he says find a companion it really means he's going to find a pint." Peony remarked, "Hard working as any, but he can be one heavy drinker."

[Ngole Yaviemiel]

Check your PM's please.

~*~ Piosenniel, Shire Moderator

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

The bottle hung in his hand like the body of a dead thing. Snaveling raised it to his lips, but the smell of the liquor nauseated him and he set it aside on the low table that stood by the chair. He glared at the floor and thought for so long that Aman began to think that he had passed out from the drink. Quietly, he spoke, as though to himself but just loud enough that the Innkeeper could hear every word.

“I do not have any money to pay for what I’ve stolen. I cannot redeem myself of this crime. Ha! Redeem myself? Is such a thing possible? Galadel would say so, but I do not know why. Tobias is certain that I am a good fellow and one worthy of his friendship, but he is a fool – a simple-minded fool like all the denizens of this little land. As for Roa. . .there was a time, perhaps, when she thought me worth some effort, but now she will not entertain any such impulse, unless it be to see me strung up by the neck in the eyes of her King. Her precious King! She says that he will see justice done for me, but what justice is there for me but death? I’m a thief, and a liar and a sneak. You’ve heard rumours, you say? Well, they’re all true. I did try to murder Roa. I left her in the cellar to burn and I didn’t care. That’s the kind of Man I am. Do you know that the first thing I did when I arrived at this blasted Inn was to steal some food from the kitchen and set fire to the woods about it? I wanted only for it to burn – to burn to the ground with everyone in it so I could pick through the bones looking for trinkets. But that plan was ruined, just as they always are. I tried to steal some gold, but Roa did something to me that made it impossible for me to keep it. I was tortured for weeks in ways that you cannot imagine and which make my very blood freeze to recall. So that plan, too, was ruined. Always things are ruined. My plans, my life…

“My life… I have wandered the Wilds looking only for a place where I could live my life alone and unfettered by the demands of others. Do you know the torments I have suffered, the empty waste miles I have crossed with nothing but a cold word and a closed door to keep me for the night? Do you know what it’s like to leave your people for so long that you pass through the longing to return, and find only on the other side the empty grey feeling that you no longer care to return? Have you even been homeless Mistress Rohan? I don’t mean between homes, or not at home, or away from home – but truly homeless? Having nowhere to call your own. Nowhere to lay your head. Nowhere to imagine in the lonely nights when you are the only creature in the universe who cares whether you live or die?

“I know what that is like. I have known for so long that it has become a part of me. Sometimes I fear that it has become the whole of me. I’ve forgotten so much in the years that I’ve wandered, that just about the only thing I could remember was that I had nowhere to call my own. It became a kind of comfort to me – for the man who has nothing, there is nothing that can be taken away. A man with no home can never be exiled.

“At least, that’s the way it’s been for me for years. That’s the way I’ve come to expect my life to continue and end. But when you threatened me just now with being sent away from the Inn…my heart almost stopped. It’s a kind of pain that I’ve not felt in so long that I no longer have a name for it. It’s a kind of pain that cuts so close to the bone that it’s almost a kind of pleasure. I don’t want to leave this place. I want to stay.” For the first time since he’d started talking he looked up and met Aman’s eyes. The despair that she saw there was enough to wring her own heart. He was drunk, yes, but it was not the liquor that spoke now, it was some part of Snaveling that had not seen the light in far too many years. “I cannot pay for the wine I have destroyed. I cannot be redeemed for my crimes against you and against all the people who care for the Green Dragon Inn. I can only be punished. But how do you punish a man who has nothing? How do you meet out justice to someone who hopes only for death?”

[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman regarded the man carefully, moved in her heart by the despairing words he spoke. But although he spoke of his own misfortune, he was not self-pitying; and although he was drunk, his words were sober. The Innkeeper now understood, as far as one who had not experienced what he had, why Snaveling was as he seemed to others: bitter, angry, despairing.

"You said the pain you felt when I said I would send you away was...Why does the Inn mean so much to you?" she said very softly. The man simply twisted his lips bitterly and contented himself with tracing the label of the bottle with the tip of one long finger, looking away from the Innkeeper. Aman rose from her seat and turned away, absently looking into the fire, her hands behind her back, then she looked back at Snaveling.

"You know I only really fear one thing, Snaveling?" she said suddenly. He looked up at her, apparent disbelief in his eyes, but also still that hopelessness. Aman paused, then continued, looking back into the roaring fireplace. "Fire. That is really the only thing I am truly afraid of. You see, master Snaveling, I have lived 24 years, most of them in or around Rohan - I was 11 years old, nearly 12, during the War of the Ring, and, ironically, at the time I was working as a groom in Minas Tirith, in Gondor. When the Nazgul attacked, there was...fire, all around, destroying everything, killing all in its path, be they people or animals. I saw horses plummet from the sky and two of the older grooms engulfed in flames, snuffed out in a moment." The Innkeeper paused, a shudder rippling down her slim frame. The flames of the fire dancing in her green eyes as the memory of fire much worse leapt in her memory, sorrow tracing the lines of her young face, before she continued.

"Do not mistake my words, Snaveling - I am not trying to compete with you, of course - there would be no point, for you have experienced much beyond anything I have been endured, whether it was the attack on Minas Tirith or anything further than that in my travels. What...well, what I am trying to say, I suppose, is that maybe I have over-reacted-"

"You did not over react, Mistress Rohan. Not at all." Snaveling's voice was very soft and bitter. Aman smiled very slightly and gently, turning her gaze to him.

"Are you going to insist on calling me that?" she replied quietly, then shrugged. "I doubt very many people will know exactly how much you broke down there, and the bottle of brandy...it is an unnecessary detail. This Inn is stocked with decades of alcohol, and I don't think any of the previous Innkeepers, even the hobbit ones, know exactly how far back the cellar extends or just how much accumulated drink resides within it. What I am saying is that a few bottles of wine, however fine and precious, no matter who they were given by...they cannot merit the total destruction of happiness that you have described.

"You see, Snaveling, tonight three visitors will arrive at the Inn, friends of mine, probably expecting to see wreck and ruin left of the Green Dragon. Thanks to the kindness and generosity of the folk of the Shire and travellers passing by, they will find quite a different image, and will of course be delighted about it. I do not want this to be blighted by what would probably be the only ban from this Inn ever inflicted, and neither do I want my conscience to be blighted with the knowledge that I turned you out. And neither," she added. "Do I want to know that you are sleeping rough when you could be here."

Snaveling said nothing, still tracing the label of the brandy with his fingers, and Aman turned to sit slowly in the armchair again, the fire dancing on the pale skin of her side as she leant forward to meet his eyes.

"Maybe you are telling me a made up sob story, Snaveling, and maybe you are nothing more than the thief and liar that you percieve yourself to be. But I don't think so. And payment?" She smiled. "How much do you think ten days hard manual labour to rebuild an Inn would cost? Reckon it would cover the cost of half a dozen bottles of wine?"

She walked over to the door, placing one hand on the knob as she looked back over at Snaveling. "Come, Master Snaveling, the party continues. Take the brandy as...a gift."

[Ngole Yaviemiel]

Ngole slowed her horse to a stop. Looking carefully through the protection of her hooded cloak, she glaced upwards to the sign above the door.
The Green Dragon Inn... That was right.

The elfess swiftly jumped from her horse to the ground. She pointed down the road and softly whispered to it. At this, the gallant steed cantered down the pebbled path, and into a local stable. Hakiel (the horse) was of Rohan blood, and understood the ancient tongue of Quenya. He was her closest friend.

Ngole stepped now to the damp wooden path leading to the Inn. Pulling her hood from her deep brown waves of hair, she touched the brass knob. Pushing steadily, the door opened, and warmth flooded her senses.

Smiling to the bookeeper, she stepped into the Inn, and cleared her throat.
"One room, please; whatever is available."

He flipped nimbly through the pages, and scanned down the row with his finger.
"Ah, room 124, just that way," he pointed through the room, to a dim hallway.

"Thank you." Ngole took notice of everything in the room... the many people.. from different lands... the blazing flames within the fireplace... the worn oak floor... the sturdy wooden tables. It was a very bustling place. Everyone talking, singing, dancing, and drinking.

Shaking herself from her sort of trance, she made her way to the softly lighted hall.

[A'owyn Sheild Maiden]

Atop a pale red steed built for speed and stamina a young girl only 16 years of age rides down the dark forested path that lead to the Green Dragon Inn. She is of average height of 5"3' her hair is a deep golden hue pulled back into a tight braid, her skin dark, from years of riding and training she had gone through to become a shield Maiden of Rohan. Her eyes are what people notice first, they are dark misty green/gray; they pierced what ever they sought.

She wore clothing unlike any of the surrounding lands, her white tunic is lose linen that is laced up the front with leather lacings, the tight fitting breaches were of soft deer leather, her footwear is hard riding boots that come up to her knee, tucked into each boot top are small daggers ornately carved with running wolves. Her clock is of an enchanted material, on the color shifted in the light and dark.

On her shoulder is a gray winged falcon, no leg jesses held him to her, no hood hindered his view. Strapped to her back is a broad sword, larger than a male twice her size would conceder using. Tucked into the girth strap of her horses saddle is a long bow 5 feet in height, hanging from her saddle packs is a quiver of arrows tipped with deadly tips.

As she rounded the last bend in the trail, she knew she had come to the right place to start her quest; A'owyn shield Maiden has begun her journey

[Crystal Heart]

Crystal turned to Adu and smiled.

"Of course I want you to stay. You don't have to look after me if you don't want to, but it is a comfort to know that you are here. It is so wonderful to finally be truly free to do what I want with my life," Crystal said.

She watched the Inn. This was her new home and there was now nothing on middle earth that could stop her from being just what she always wanted to be. There was nothing that was going to stop her from being free for the first time. She was the one that now got to make decisions about her life. It was the best thing that she could ever know.

"I know Hama will become the new General of Rohan. He will make a fine General and you a fine second in command. Rohan will finally be safe under the protection of you two. Rohan has finally come out of my father's tyrantry."

[Memory of Trees]

Kyria stepped through the inn door just like the hundreds of guests that had been there before her. She paused for a moment on the threshold, thinking of all the boots and sandals and slippers that had stood in that very spot. The soles of her bare feet tingled delightfully, and she was over with the enourminty of it. A thousand faces flashed through her brain, flicking past like a swarm of blinking fireflies. Opening her eyes, Kyria smiled. So many people, and she remembered them all.

The Green Dragon Inn was as full of people as the young elf's mind. Merry laughter rang out around the common room, and Kyria was immersed in a general felling of happines. She heard each voice individually, each conversation was seperate from the other. Pressing her palms together, she shivered with glee. A party! She loved parties. But first things first, of course.

After recieving a room number from the bookkeeper, Kyria headed off up the stairs. It was quieter on the second floor, and she glanced down at the slip of paper with the number on it. Room 125, it said.

Kyria rounded the corner of the hall, running smack into another guest. Both girls fell to the floor, and Kyria jumped to her feet, helping the other girl up and apologizing fervently. "Oh! Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry Ngole," she said, retrieving the other woman's slip of paper up off the floor. "Sorry, I didn't see, I guess," she said again, handing it back to her.

The young woman blinked. "It's alright," she said calmly, taking the paper back. Then, narrowing her eyes suspiciously, "But how do you know my name?"

Kyria stared back at the woman. It was too hard - too hard to explain, too hard to understand. "Lucky guess, I suppose," she said with a shrug. If she'd have had the presence of mind, Kyria probably would have said something like "the bookkeeper told me," but she was still reeling from the shock of actually touching someone. "I'm Kyria," she said, but didn't extend her hand. She wasn't sure her poor nerves could handle it.

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

“A gift…” Snaveling could not believe his ears, and for the time it took Aman to move to the door he fought through the drink and despair toward recognition of what had happened…again. Again, he had erred and committed a wrong and again he had been forgiven. Again, he had revealed his truest nature and again it had been met with pity rather than cruelty; mercy rather than the rough form of justice that he had come to expect in the outside world. The “outside” world? he thought to himself. Am I so comfortable in this place already that I feel as though the rest of the wide world is common in that it is not here? Am I already so at home in this place… At home: the phrase burst open in his mind like a blossom of flame. He was at home here; truly and fully at home.

He leapt to his feet and stayed Aman from leaving the room. “Mistress Aman,” he said, a smile spreading across his features giving his pallid hue a healthiness and warmth that shone through even the livid colours of his intoxication and shame. “I cannot tell you what you have done for me this night. You offer me a gift of the brandy – rather, I will take it in payment for whatever services I can do you in the time that I remain here. You speak of three who are coming who are important to you. Please, if there is aught that I can do to aid you in preparing for them, let me know. As to my accommodation, I have spent a lifetime in the wild and prefer the outside. My bunk in the stables will do nicely for me, if that is acceptable to yourself.”

Aman smiled at Snaveling. She remained a little unsure but clearly took heart from his altered manner. “That is acceptable to me entirely, and understandable for there are many horses whose company I prefer over many peoples!”

Snaveling’s smile grew as well, and he took Aman’s hand in both of his own and kissed it. “My lady,” he began, but the Innkeeper cut him off. “We’ll have none of that,” she said pulling her hand free.

“Very well,” the Man continued, “I shall call you Aman, then, and no longer Mistress Rohan. I’ve come to see of late that many things I held to be true are not, and I begin to believe that my opinion of your people is perhaps formed of too slight an acquaintance. I will not and cannot forsake the grievances of my people, but I will in future attempt to form my opinion of your kin based on their behaviour toward me, rather than what I have heard reported of them by their enemies.” Aman smiled and said that this, at least, was a step in the right direction. But Snaveling’s face grew dark once more, and his aspect grave as his mind turned to another matter. Aman looked at him with the unspoken question in her eye. For a moment, Snaveling hid his feelings, but the frank nature of the woman overcame the last of his secretiveness and he spoke out. “Before I can find real peace, there are people I need to speak with, and hard truths I need to confess. I believe that now, I am ready finally to do so!”

Aman opened the door and, together with Snaveling, they rejoined the party.

[Archsage Isaac]

Walking slowly, Isaac rounded a bend in the forest trail. His pace was slow and constant. I can't believe that I got lost in this forest. I knew I shouldn't have gone left and that last fork in the path... he thought as he wiped his forhead on the back of his hand. He stood well over 6 feet and had a weathered appearance to him, as if beaten by the elements for quite some time. His appearance gave him a quite old look, though he was only 20 years of age. On his hip he carried a large blade, sheathed for his protection as well as others'.

Isaac wore simple attire, black clothes with a white cape hanging loosely off his shoulders. The clothes had a few small tears from travel but otherwise were in perfect condition. He wore simple black boots, the leg of his pants had been tucked in a bit but still hung over the edge of the rim. His cape was barely hanging above the ground, now and again it would look as though playing a game of tag with Isaac's legs. Darting forward as his leg went forward, and darting back as the his leg went back. Everyonce in a while the game would be interrupted by a random gust of wind. His golden hair hung in a loose ponytail, which stopped just before the base of his neck. His eyes had once been compared to "dual pools of shades darker than the deepest seas".

After he'd stopped and taken a drink from his cantine, he continue walking along the path. Now he only hoped to find someplace to rest, and after walking around the next bend he found exactly what he wanted. "The Green Dragon Inn..." he muttered, too exhausted to care about anything else. He approached then Inn, and knew that this would be the place where his next journey began.

[nynnd1]

Bredan sat there with his drink, looking at it more than drinking it. He had been thinking how lovely Aman was, both fair of speech and looks.

"I wondor if she is ok", he said just before taking a sip of his drink.

He was never a really big drinker, it always seemed to get him into trouble, but he thought he deserved this one for all the walking he had done, and besides, she gave it to me. This was one of the best ales he had ever had though, a kind of fruity reviving taste it had, in his reckoning

The lady came out of the door, patrolling the bar and smiling and having small talk with the customers, alot from different races. As she came near him he took a breath to speak.

"My name is Bredan of Gondor, and i am in your service if you can give me accomadation?"

The outburst that came out of his mouth seemed to shock him, but he liked it her and wanted to stay, he needed a rest and this seemed the best place.

[Gil-Galad]

Please check your PM's.

~*~ Pio, Shire Moderator

[Kransha]

Toby, who suddenly realized that all manner of sanity was leaving him, looked blankly, slack-jawed, at Mirabell Baggins. Of course she was pleasant, polite, sweet, and everything a fine young hobbit lass should be, but his mostly drunken eyes only saw a course outline of her as he staggered up from the chair, trying to keep his head from lolling to one side drowsily. He needed to replenish himself, though he was already fairly replenished. The gentlehobbit, almost spinning in place, ambled right over, nearly falling on Miss Baggins, and said, as politely and tranquilly as he could, what he thought he needed to say to get out of this party’s fiery maw for a minute. His right eye, straying from the gaze of his left, somehow caught the distinct signature of Snaveling in the crowd and resolved to head towards that locale.

“Yes…indeed…Resting my eyes, of course…Will you excuse me for a moment?”

He didn’t wait for Mira to dignify his mumbled question with response as he scurried off in his rodent way, but more foolishly and clumsily than before. Almost dancing through the crowd like an idiot, his head lopsided, his feet constantly tripping each other as he fell into a number of people and forgot to apologize as he waltzed his way drunkenly on. He had no idea what Miss Aman put in the drinks she served, but either it was far too powerful, or he’d imbibed far too much of it. Either way, the taste of the fluid was still fresh in him and his constantly blinking eyes drifted between closing and opening. Finally, after much bashing into bystanders, Toby ran into the person he sought, namely Snaveling.

“Snavlin…umm…Snaveling, I mean…Where in the Shire did you disappear to? You would have to go off all sudden like that and leave me in the clutches of another lass….I’ve a mind to….to….Snaveling, I need something to drink…A lot of something…and fast, I do believe..."

[Esgallhugwen]

"Yes, I suppose long travels can do that to someone, taking in too much of what they've missed on the road, I have seen it before, but he is good fellow none the less you are lucky to have met him, I've heard stories now that it can still be dangerous in some parts" he shrugged always having kept a sharp eye out while still enjoying himself.

They were all wanderers then, fancy that, most have more of a reason to go traveling afar from their homes other than for the sake of adventure. Too many people know what adventures can get you into and they prefer the peaceful life, away fromthe troubles of such things.

But not Aldor, he wished to see all he could see, but always kept in mind his beloved Mother and the memory of his Father, that is why sometimes he would find himself returning home to check on her well being. Well enough of that sad thought he replied to himself smiling across the table at Peony.

[Lumiel]

The shadows of the day lengthened and Indy and Fungrim made their way back to the new Inn, ready for the party. Fungrim had plaited his beard, a design which seemed to fascinate the young girl. He was cleaned and his clothes were neat. Meanwhile, one of the hobbit women took note of Indy's condition and dragged the poor girl off.

"No! No! I don't wanna take a bath! I'm fine, I like it like this!" she protested, her feet dragging. She turned pleadingly to Fungrim. "Fuuungriiim!" she whined, "Tell her that she can't make me take any stinkin' bath!"

Fungrim laughed heartily, his eyes twinkling. "If I have to clean up, so do you!" he teased her in response. That was all she heard before being dragged upstairs. The woman led her to a small washroom and quickly put her in the oval tub, soaking her from head to toe. She scrubbed and scrubbed, taking off what seemed to be layers of grime, nearly as stubborn as Indy herself who pouted and sulked in the water.

Finally, Indy re-emerged with a pleased-looking hobbit. With a warning to not get dirty again and the promise of another bath if she did, Indy was released. Her hair was shiny and clean, and partially pulled back by a red ribbon. She wore a red dress with sleeves that reached to her elbows and what appeared to be a corset of a pale white around her middle. The only consolance for her was that she had not been forced to wear shoes.

Trudging over to Fungrim, she pulled herself up to the chair and sat down with a dramatic flourish, folding her hands on the table and setting her chin down on top. "I didn't need a bath. I'm just gonna get dirty again anyway!" she said.

"Well Indy, it's the way things are. You have to take a bath. Sometimes you have to do things that you don't want to, it's life." he told her in a matter-of-fact manner.

"Traitor!" she said, glaring at him. Her brow was drawn low over her large, expressive eyes which were at the moment half-squinted. Her lower lip pouted out slightly, and she had an overall air of being miffed about her. Put together, she looked like a tiny, angry bull. Fungrim chuckled at the image as he drank from his mug. "What are you laughing at?" she accused.

"Well lass, it's just that I can't tell if you're a little girl or a bull, what with that face." he answered. Indy sat up indignantly, her mouth open and her eyes wide. The dwarf laughed again. "Do you have any horns under that clean head of yours?" he asked with raised eyebrows.

As indignant as she felt and as stubborn as she was about making sure Fungrim knew how indignant she felt, she felt a smile tugging at her mouth. In a moment, she broke out laughing, the sound ringing out like the spring cry of a robin. Fungrim echoed her laughter, his voice a deep but matching partner for her child's voice. "I don't have any horns, but watch out, I'm a big, bad, wolf! Rarrr!" she said cheerfully, raising her hands like claws and making a snarling mouth with a crinkled nose, complete with a matching smile and giggle. The party had just begun and already Indy felt wound up and giddy.

[Kitanna]

Peony looked at Aldor, who seemed to be in a trance before smiling once more at her. "Are you alright? You seemed worried just a moment ago." Peony returned Aldor's smile.

"Perhaps a little homesick?" Peony knew what it meant to be homesick. Days would come when all she felt like doing was turning around and returning to Minas Tirith. Yet at the same time she was out to prove her father wrong.
You will not last a month in the wild Peony. You will return with your tale between your legs like a wounded dog.

Peony loved her father, but she had to show him she could handle being away from home. She looked at Aldor and laughed a little. "Perhaps something to take your mind off our troubles. Care for another dance?"

[Archsage Isaac]

Isaac, though weary from travel, was still in control of his senses enough to hear the general chatter going on inside of the Inn. He slowly wiped his face with his sleeve and readjusted the bag on his shoulder. After raking his hair from his face he walked to the entrance. As he entered, he nearly bumped into a few people. Aplogizing to them, he slowly made his way back to a fairly isolated table in the rear. There was a couple of people around him, but he would have to bear it for the moment. Isaac placed his bag on the table first and then slumped into an empty chair with an above average thud. After looking around to see if it had disturbed anyone, he removed the weighted cape he wore and gently placed it gently on the ground by his feet.

After looking around the room once again, he sighed heavily. Just what I needed...a party. he thought sarcastically, impatiently tapping his foot against the ground. "Oh well, don't worry about one such as me, I'm just a weary wanderer. I'll be better as soon as I get some rest..." he said in a low voice, really hoping that none of the ones around him heard his words...

[Eowyn Skywalker]

Willow set down her fiddle, having played out her moods on the violin. She was okay now, though she still wondered everything, everyone, who, what, where, when, why...

She had been like that as a child, though now she had more sense... normally. With all the past events, she really was beginning to wonder about everything and everyone.

A man walked into the inn, and nearly walked into her. She jumped back before he crashed into her, and steadied her fiddle, nearly dropping it.

"Sorry," he said gruffly, before heading to a table in the back of the common room.

He sat down with a greater than normal 'thud', and Willow flinched visibly. She hated when people sat so hard that the chair nearly broke.

Not that it had.

Unconsciously, she clutched her violin closer, and looked around for somewhere to sit down; wondering, all the while, if Aman had remembered that she was suppose to fiddle later that night...

With all the events taking place seemingly, it appeared that she might forget, and that, if the party kept up like this, things might end earlier. Willow had never liked parties that much, and nearly always slipped away before the end, anyhow.

But this one was taking so many turns, things might end up ending earlier that night.

The younger hobbit maiden walked to an empty table nearer to the edge of the room, and sat down, stroking her fiddle fondly, and thinking. Thinking of everything.

She smiled wistfully at her fiddle, and sat back to relax.

[Kitanna]

Deva wandered around the inn making conversations with one or two people as he drank his ale and enjoyed the party. As Peony had said he was getting drunk, but Deva was still relatively composed. Three ales was not enough to affect the better half of this judgement.

As he pushed past on his way for another ale he tripped over and foot that lay in his path. "Bah!" Was all that escaped as he came crashing to the ground.

He had fallen by the feet of a young man with golden locks falling into his face. "I meant to do that." Deva grumbled as he got up. "He smiled and extended his hand to Isaac. "Sorry for all the ruckus. Please let me buy you a drink. My name is Deva and yours young traveller?" Deva waited for an answer.

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

Snaveling had never been more pleased to see Toby than in that moment. He had amends to make to many people, but he knew that it would be best to wait until he was sober to speak with most, and that it would be easiest to begin with the gentle-hobbit. He handed the now half-empty bottle of brandy to his friend and bid him drink it down. Toby’s eyes grew wide at the sight of the bottle and he let out a low whistle. “Where in the Shire did you get this?” he asked. “Why I’ve not suh. . .seen a genuine bottle of 1385 in yuh…years. We need glasses!” He scrambled to the bar, looking more like a rodent than when he were sober, and demanded two snifters. Aman smiled lightly as she handed them over to the hobbit and her eyes met Snaveling’s. It seems that the brandy was an even richer gift than I thought, he reflected. Still, it’s not half so rich as what else I’ve gained this night.

Toby was soon at Snaveling’s side and they looked about them for someplace to sit. There were a couple of empty chairs near where Roa and Galadel sat, but Snaveling urged Toby to sit with him somewhere else, as he was not feeling quite ready to face them. The hobbit, too far gone to notice his friend’s reticence, quickly guided them through the press of bodies to a quieter corner where they were able to commandeer two armchairs. Carefully pouring out the brandy, Toby settled back into the soft cushions and took a deep sniff. He let out a sigh of utter satisfaction before sipping the brandy as though it were liquid gold. Following his example, Snaveling took a gentle sip and found that all the hard pulls he had taken from the bottle before had done the liquor a terrible disservice. It warmed his tongue and filled his belly with blueberry jam. His exchange with Aman had done much to sober him, but he still sipped his glass slowly in order to enjoy the drink and prevent himself from falling into a total stupor.

“So,” Toby began, simultaneously closing his eyes and laying his head back against the chair, “What were you and Aman doing closeted together like that?”

Snaveling was not ready to tell Toby about the wine and stealing the brandy. “We were merely working out the details of my continued presence here,” he said. “I can’t afford to pay for a room or board, but she’s agreed to let me stay on and help out in exchange for my lodgings.”

“Good, good,” Toby said, not really listening, his eyes still closed. “What I think we need Snaveling is a suh…song” he hiccuped. “You have a surprisingly good voice – who would have thought it to luh…look at you! Would you care to give us another?” Snaveling took another gentle sip of the brandy, and whether it was the liquor or what had transpired with Aman he could not tell, but he was not at all averse to singing. In fact, he found that he rather wanted to.

“There's a bower of roses,
by Brandywine’s stream,
And the nightingale sings
'round it all the day long.
In the time of my childhood
'Twas sweet like a dream,
To sit by the roses
And hear the bird's song.
That bower and its music
I never can forget,
But of when alone
In the bloom of the year
I think, "Is the nightingale
singing there yet?"
Are the roses still bright
by the calm Brandywine?

“No, the roses soon withered
that hung over the wave,
But the blossoms were gathered
While freshly they shone,
And the dew was distilled
On the flowers, that gave
All the fragrance of summer -
when summer is gone.
Thus memory draws from delight
ere it dies,
An essence that breathes
of it many a year.
Thus, bright to my soul
as 'twas then to my eyes,
Is that bower on the banks
of the calm Brandywine.”

Snaveling finished his song, and to his own surprise, smiled and bowed his head to the scattered applause. “Well my friend,” he said turning to Toby, “What say you to my song?” He paused for a moment. “Toby? Are you awake?”

[Archsage Isaac]

Isaac was shocked at first when Deva hit the floor, but then more dumbfounded as he apologized for falling. "My name is Isaac, and do not apolgize for tripping, Deva, it was not your fault." he replied, shaking Deva's hand. "Please do sit, take a load off." he said, gently pushing one of the other chairs at the table out with his foot.

After some careful consideration, Isaac began to speak to Deva. "I think I will accept your offer for that drink, though I don't know what's good..." he said with an exhausted sigh. He once again pushed his hair from his face and awaited further conversation with Deva.

[Kransha]

As they had before, Toby Hornblower’s eyes fluttered open foolishly as he looked, a dumb expression peeled over his features, at Snaveling.

“Ye…yes, I’m awake, of course I’m awake, I’m more awake than…than…” his voice faded into blurs and slurs and incomprehensible babbling as he examined the oddly friendly, though consternated look on his friend’s face. He blinked and felt a sudden swelling in his belly and throat. Though he knew it blasphemous to allow such a thing after such a song, he could not contain it. A small, gurgling, muffled belch escaped Toby like a contained explosion, but that didn’t seem to faze Snaveling.

“I do think it were a good song….I especially like the part about the wine….yes, yes, t’was a good bit. Ye should sing more often, me friend, people would think better of ye.” Toby’s words became rustic, as did his look. All his lessons in high-class hobbit behavior failed him as his posture crumbled, his face looked drunker than ever, and he found himself hiccupping continuously. Snaveling nodded pensively, smiling just barely beneath his normal façade. Suddenly, Toby’s merry but befuddled expression changed as he dug a hand into his pocket slowly, his gaze straying from Snaveling.

His dimmed eyes turning back to the man, he thumped his filled hand on a small round table sitting beside his armchair. He pulled the hand drowsily off the table to reveal what he’d been holding. It was a small but weighty cloth purse, filled with the shapes of many jingling coins that chimed together like small delicate bells as the elder hobbit’s hand sifted the bag back and forth. The coin purse held the worn mark of the Hornblowers, an intricately inked horn with a precise laurel around it. The hobbit shot Snaveling a meaningful but tired look and leaned forward, speaking as seriously as he could when drunk.

“Snaveling. I do b’lieve the time has come ta make my little ‘plan’ public, since I don’t think I can trust myself to remember it any longer. Ya see, I’ve been savin’ somethin’ fer tonight…A little recum…recom…recompense for all the trouble I’ve caused and such…Bein’ a prosperis hobb’t of the south, I have a lot of money nowadays…I decided that t’would be best ta give a li’l ‘donation’ to Miz Aman and the Green Dragon…But now, I fear I might spend it on a tall mug of ale if I’m not careful, so I thought I might entrust it to a trustworthy someone until the time comes ta present it to Miz Aman or someone of that caliber…So, perhaps you could keep the gift until it’s required…”

[Kitanna]

Deva thought for a minute. "I say everythings good! So take your pick and since I'm in a cheery mood it's on me." The dwarf stroked his long brown bread still thinking things over.

"Tell me Isaac, do you travel to this fine inn alone or do you have a companion? I myself have abandoned my companion for a good pint of ale." He pointed across the inn to where a red-headed woman was sitting. "That's Peony, my dear friend."

Deva was in such a good mood this night he felt like he could talk forever. "Excuse me! I keep talking not giving you a minute to answer. Please tell me of yourself."

[Archsage Isaac]

Isaac listened as Deva spoke, not once interrupting him. "Oh, I think that I'll have what you're drinking. And to answer your question, I did travel here alone. I find that having a companion with me merely slows me down in my travels and research." he said, thinking about a happier time that he once knew.

He quickly snapped out of his thoughts though and looked about again with a slight smile. "Don't stop talking, Deva. I most certainly enjoy the conversation. I'm a man of few words, I usually let my sword do the talking..." he said with a more direct grin at Deva. "... but that's getting off the subject. How 'bout we get some food and continue our conversation?" he asked as he crossed his arms and slightly leaned back in his chair.

[Beruthiel]

Daisy Took strolled up the path and breathed in the cool night air. She had long brown, curly hair (like most hobbits) and small ringlets dangled around her shoulders and face. She wore a long dress which was far too big for her (she had 'borrowed' it from her older sister) and it was a light blue colour. The lace at the bottom of it however had nearly worn off because it was being dragged along the ground. Daisy didn't care though, after all, it wasn't her own dress she was ruining now was it? Daisy was small even for a hobbit being about two inches shorter than the average hobbit. Her face was pretty and she had freckles covering her nose and cheeks.

Daisy hadn't been to the Green Dragon Inn for a long time. Last time she went a young woman named Pio had been the innkeeper and Daisy had been a lot younger. Now there was some new girl, Daisy didn't know her name. She thought it was mighty strange that an outsider would be running an inn in the Shire. However the Green Dragon Inn wasn't like any normal inn in the Shire. From what she'd heard it attracted lots of strangers from other lands. This awoke some strange hunger inside of her that wanted to get out of the Shire and have an adventure. At the same time there was a part of her that couldn't bear the thought of leaving behind the green hills and fields that she loved so much. So with her mind split into two, she decided she would take a chance and see what the inn had to offer. She knew there was going to be a party and it seemed the perfect oppurtunity to broaden her horizons a little.

The little hobbit lass finally turned a corner in the path and there was the inn. It looked different, like it had had been changed. She stopped walking for a moment and watched the shadows moving in the window and she could hear people laughing inside. For some reason nerves took her over. She was actually rather afraid of going into a room full of strangers.
'Oh dear don't be silly Daisy!' she told herself and bit her lip before she pushed open the door.

The place was bustling with people and Daisy wasn't quite sure what to do. A few of the patrons gave her a quick glance but they returned to their drinks and conversations almost instantly. Daisy didn't want to be standing in the middle of the room looking completely clueless so she headed for the bar. She sat herself down on one of the wooden stools and feeling quite small and lost she waited for someone to talk to her.

[Kitanna]

"A man of few words, eh? Very nice." Deva said, finishing off the last of his ale. "I have not been with someone who wasn't interested in talking for some time." He smiled at Isaac.

"As for something to eat I am more thristy than I am hungry, but feel free to get yourself someting." Deva called Buttercup over to the table. "Two ales please!" The young Hobbit disappeared into the crowd.

"So tell me Isaac, a man so young, where do you hail from and why do you travel these lands? I come from the Lonely Mountain and just have a sense of an adventure."

Buttercup returned with the ale and placed it on the table. "Thank you, lassie." Deva said going for his mug right away.

[Archsage Isaac]

"I actually don't remember my hometown, I seem to have lost all of my memories up until a few years ago. I just woke up one day with a sword in my hand and a beast lying in front of me, dead." Isaac said with a slightly saddened look in his eyes. He called over the waitress again and ordered a steak and thanked the waitress as she walked away.

Turning his attention back to Deva, he began to speak again. "Sad story, isn't it? But that is the truth. After that I began to wander, getting bits and pieces of my memory back as I traveled." he said, picking up the mug and taking a drink. "This forest seemed to bring back the most memories, so I decided to explore it next." After saying this he took a large drink of his ale.

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

Toby’s gold quickly disappeared into Snaveling’s tunic, and the Man was quick to assure the hobbit that the money was entirely safe with him – and at first, he even meant it. Buoyed by his conversations with Aman and Galadel, and floating as he was on the wings of a more manageable amount of drink, Snaveling was feeling better disposed toward the world and its peoples than he had in many a year. He settled back into the cushions of the arm chair, had another warming sip of brandy, and allowed himself the satisfaction of reflecting upon his newfound virtue. I will protect this gold with my very life he thought to himself, smiling at his goodness. I am a trustworthy man; and when Toby wishes me to pass it along to my good friend Aman, I will do so happily, and then Roa will see what kind of a Man I really am!.

The thought of Roa’s commendatory amazement caused him to sigh happily. He turned to Toby and saw that the hobbit had once again decided to rest his eyes…oddly enough, this seemed to entail a certain amount of snoring as well. Out of curiosity, Snaveling removed the money pouch and opened it again. There was indeed a lot of money in there. He shook his head and put it away, before helping himself to another sip of brandy. He allowed his mind to drift back to the scene in which he handed over the gold and Roa stood admiring him for his goodness. He smiled at this scene and looked over to the Ranger where she sat by the fire. She was quite fetching in that dress, and he smiled at that, too. But then it occurred to him how he must appear to her. He glanced down at his ragged clothes and poked his finger through the holes in his tunic. His boots were more patches than leather, and his hair had not been tended to in years.

His mind turned back to the pouch that lay against his heart. Once more he removed it and opened it. This time, he took out a single gold coin and held it up contemplatively before him. He took another sip of brandy and looked across the room at Roa. Her eyes met his and he smiled, but she frowned and looked away once more. Of course she avoids your eye, foolish Man! he cursed. You are appalling to her. She does not yet know the change that has been wrought in your heart; she thinks that you are still the wretch she met all those weeks ago! Well, time will mend that! But his eyes wandered back down to his clothes, and he was dismayed. I may have changed, but my appearance certainly has not. He weighed the gold coin in his hand and thought of the new raiment that it could buy him. For a moment he sat like that poised on the edge of uncertainty, weighing the coin in one hand, and in the other his certainty that Roa would never be able to look at him as anything other than as a vagabond and a thief until he did not appear so much like one.

He took one more sip of the brandy. Toby snorted loudly and started in his chair, nearly spilling his glass. Before the gentlehobit could see him do it, Snaveling put the coin into his own pocket.

[Eowyn Skywalker]

Willow watched as a young hobbit, a rather short one at that, walked into the Green Dragon. She reminded her of herself almost of her, the first time she had came in, and tried to play her fiddle.

The young lass stood in the middle of the room for a moment, looking quite clueless, and then she went and sat down at the bar.

Willow thought for a while. She knew what it was like to be new; to just sit there. And now she was more confident, though still quite shy. She breathed out deeply, and resolved to go and talk to this newcomer.

She stood up, and tucked her fiddle under her arm; abandoning her chair to cross the room.

Willow Overhill walked over; across the common room, and went over to the new hobbit girl. No one really seemed to notice her; she blended in so well.

She wanted to go and talk to the girl; her mind screamed out that she needed a friend, but her feet had other ideas. She tripped over a chair leg, just barely catching her violin as it fell, and taking the brunt of the collapse herself.

Willow collected herself, and blushed, embarrased, as usual. After completely collecting herself well enough, she walked over to the newcomer.

"Hullo," she said shyly. "I'm Willow Overhill. What's your name?" She smiled weakly, for she was shy for a hobbit, and disliked talking to strangers, though she had began to warm up to the Green Dragon. And yet she so wanted a friend.

She tucked her fiddle under her arm; held it closer, and waited for a response from the fellow hobbit girl, hoping that she wouldn't be too shy.

[Maeggaladiel]

Torlo Hillburrow sulked through the front door of the Green Dragon Inn.

"Green Dragon!" he huffed moodily to himself. "Of all the outlandish names. Dragons, in these parts! Harumph!" Walking inside, he was not much happier. A myriad of very unhobbitish creatures patroned this particular establishment, much to his displeasure.

He wouldn't have to be here if it wasn't for Marigold. Why did his sister Marigold have to go off and marry that lousy foriegn boy, anyway? There were plenty of fine young hobbit lads closer to home, that was for certain. If she had just chosen one of the local gents rather than run off with a hobbit from across the blasted country (or so it seemed) then Torlo wouldn't have to trek all across the Blasted Shire to attend her blasted first aniversary party. And he wouldn't have to stop at these blasted foriegn inns!

In all honesty, Torlo was rather nervous about staying here. Although he wouldn't admit it, possibly not even to himself, the sight of so many strange people frightened him. They were so... so... BIG.

Pushing such thoughts aside, Torlo walked to the bar, trying to look as tall and imposing as possible. This wasn't easy for a hobbit, and it in fact just pointed out his short stature even more. His brown eyes swept across the inn, taking in the patrons. A young hobbit lass, a Man or two, and several others. Not wanting to stare, Torlo forced his gaze to the bar. Blast. Even the barstools were made for taller races.

Pulling himself into one of the more hobbit-sized chairs, Torlo asked the bartender for a drink. He had a feeling he would need it.

[Mad Baggins]

Mira sighed. Toby had wandered off drunkenly and she was once again by herself. She looked about at the chatting, laughing patrons as the party went on. As she watched them enjoy the party, she noticed a young hobbit lass step into the Inn. She sat down on a chair, looking rather lonesome.

Well. Mira thought, It looks like I am not the only one here who is lonely for someone to talk to. She rose from her seat and stretched her legs, which were starting to fall asleep after being inactive for so long. She started to walk towards the lass when she noticed another young girl doing the same. This poor girl, however, stumbled over something on the ground and fell. Mira gasped, but the girl seemed all right when she got up. She walked up to the smaller lass and began talking.

Mira weaved through the crowded room until she reached the pair. She smiled at them and curtsied, saying, "Good afternoon, girls. My name is Mirabell Baggins, and I would be much obliged if you would chat with me a bit."

[Eowyn Skywalker]

Willow turned around as another hobbit maiden stepped into the conversation. "Good afternoon, girls," said the newcomer. "My name is Mirabell Baggins, and I would be much obliged if you would chat with me a bit."

Willow smiled as she introduced herself. "I would be happy to have you join us, Mira." Then she stopped. "I can call you Mira, can I not?"

Then Willow remembered her manners. "I am Willow Overhill of the North Moors, and as for my companion..." She stopped, remembering that the smaller hobbit girl had not yet introduced herself. "Well, I'm afraid that I do not know her name... I'll let her introduce herself, I suppose."

She smiled, her brown eyes twinkling in the dim light of the inn. "And what brings you to the Green Dragon, Mirabell Baggins?"

Willow sat down on one of the stools, to await a responce from both of the two hobbits. And then something came to her mind. "And do either of you to play the fiddle?"

Her eyes sparkled; Willow had an idea now...