The White Horse

[Ithaeliel]

Oh, no, no! I mean that small towns are generic in a GOOD way! Though I'm not too keen on rescue; we've already got that going on in the Kidnapped! RPG. I came up with something interesting last night when I was half-asleep; it's pretty basic but it can make for something VERY interesting:

Despite the taking back of Isengard by Gondor, Fangorn Forest has suffered much since the War of the Ring. The trees have become more malicious than ever, killing even men, and the Ents grow ever more sparse. They have retreated deep into the forest and don't know of the terrors that have happened. Fangorn is almost impossible to come out of alive now.
The king visits Isengard. He hears of what has happened in Fangorn and summons warriors from all around to find out and vanquish the problem.

....we could have Ents, mortals, anyone as characters! And Radagast might even be a little more in character; he'll be more at home. Please don't immediately give a yes or no, I want to hear some different ideas!

[Bêthberry]

Well, we certainly have many enthusiastic writers here. And cooperative ones. That's great and I'm glad to see so many here. smilies/smile.gif

Some of you have run your own games, and I wonder if you could expand on where or how you generated your plots/ideas. Lugburz, Adanedhel, Aman, Aylwen? Did you go to the Appendices the way Mithadan did for Search for Celebrian? I'm particularly interested in how Search for the Book was set up.

Auriel, in the balance between planning and sponteneity, are there some things which should be planned and not left to chance? What are they?

Aman, that's neat to be able to work in history from past games. It is what I hope to do with Ælfritha in Rohan. Where did you get the idea for Kidnapped from?

The Blue Mountain folk (if I can call you that!), how did you choose the characters for that game? How did you make them consistent with the plot and setting? (Also, remember that gamers can apply to your new game once it has been approved and the Discussion thread goes up, not here, although anyone can talk about it with you here, if you wish.)How hard was it to keep Blue Mountain going to its completion?

I would hope that you guys also start talking to each other. Don't wait for me to reply or answer, but ask each other questions about ideas, characters, plot structures.

And I have a question to ask all of you: Would you prefer to see some kind of mentoring available for your games? Would we have more games in Rohan if the game owners weren't solely responsible for the game, but could expect some help and direction from the Innkeeper? Or is the independence a nice reward for posting here?

Bethberry

[Adanedhel]

Bethberry,

To answer your question (As I am sure the others you mentioned will also) it all depends on the writer you are, and how you interpret Tolkien's works.
Usually to come up with an idea it would be a section of one of Tolkien's books I would like to expand on, something like the Southrons, or Harad, a place where not much is spoken about and thus there is more of a chance for creativity and you are not restricted as much but at the same time it is a challenge to try and make sure it fits into what Middle Earth is all about and how the world works.
It wouldn't work if you wrote that there was 'lost land' in Middle Earth that had a race of super powerful wizards, or a warrior race that was so vast and huge it could crush the world. This would be both ridiculous and unrealistic.

Once I have the idea I would try and read further into it, finding as much information about it as I can then see if there are people that would be willing to role play with this idea. If it doesn't get a good reception from the people I do ask then I don't go ahead with it, if it does then I get stuck into it straight away.

Also I find it more interesting if during the story there are sub-plots branching off from the main story line, so that it gives the role play some depth and more of a character instead of just the one story line.

There are other ways that people find ideas for role plays but they are the ones that I draw from on a regular basis.

*Bows*

Adanedhel

[ March 07, 2003: Message edited by: Adanedhel ]

[cole]

Cole listened to everyone in the tavern talk. He had just started to rest when suddenly an elf walked into the tavern. Tall, slim, blond hair, ears and all. What he wanted nobody knew except for Cole.


" I thought that you would be here. Everyone is ready to leave." Then he brought his voice to but a scarce whisper. "Did you tell the king about........."Cole shook his head."I forgot my friend I am truly sorry but why not ask me to go outside to talk about this? Susan my friend I will be but a moment."


Cole and his elf friend walked out of the tavern. As the door opened the rest of Cole's travelling companions stood by the door waiting for Cole to come out.

For about 15 to 20 minutes arguing could be heard from outside. As were the voices of a few dwarves and elves along with Cole's.
but one clear and few words that was heard were never forgotten.

No, we cannot tell the people of this tavern that an enemy is on it's way here. Let the King tell them.

Cole was furious.

"What is that it!? Are we all just going to stand idly by will Rohan is destroyed? Well maybe you can but I cannot I am going to tell the king and I am also going to stay to fight. You should all go on without me. We'll meet in Gondor after the battle ends."

Cole walked back in to see everyone staring at him. He shouldn't have came here and he knew it. If only he'd have kept his voice down.

[ February 18, 2003: Message edited by: cole ]

[Mattius]

Ith I think your idea sounds great (I know you didn't want a yes or no but it just does ok). A thousand years after the blue mountain saga seems just about right and the whole Radagast/Fangorn link could proove to be very interesting indeed!

I personally don't really have any specific rpg idea and am happy to just take whatever one of you guys puts forward (boring I know but it has got me this far through life). So has anyone else got any stories they want to bash out?

Bethberry, in reply to your question, The Blue Mountain RPG survived through the Freestyle Room and then Rohan because even though we wern't the most prolific group of postees we put a lot of effort into each one to ensure that it was of good quality! Good players know not only when to write a post to move the story foward but also when to hold back so that it has the same, or sometimes, even greater effect.

[ February 18, 2003: Message edited by: Mattius ]

[Ithaeliel]

Wise words, Mattius, and too true smilies/smile.gif. I'd like to add something. To elaborate on the way we formed the game, if I can recall correctly, Iaurlachien (who played Rothalle) began the discussion and allowed people to join and post characters first. Then, once we had everyone on board, we discussed the location, and Iaur suggested it take place in the uninhabited Ered Luin, hence the name, so that we wouldn't have to inhibit our creative juices too much by the laws of the land or anything. Then, over time and after we started the RPG, we developed the plot and the objective. I found that we were able to make it much more intricate by doing so, instead of having it prefabricated like most others. The RPG went from August till early February, and it was the first and only RPG I've successfully completed so far.

[Auriel Haevasawen]

Radagast ordered further pints for his companions and included Aylwen in the round. "Dear girl, he does tell a good tale does he not? Take no notice of anything he says about me I am just a shepherd. An animal friend. I was never concerned with the to-ing and fro-ing of the world of men and elves until I met these folk. I haven't really a clue why he travels with me still. Perhaps it is time I retired. Those adventures took a great deal out of me you know. I'm not Mithrandir, he's far better suited to such exploits. I'm just poor old Radagast. I've used all the enchantments I need for a thousand lifetimes." The old one sighed and smiled at the young listener. "That said, dear girl it is so nice to see the young folk after all this time. I won't complain if they persuade me into some other mischief. Just a little, gentle mischief. No more monsters, goodness, no."

Endereth leaned across the table. "I heard that Radagast! I think I may have a little mischief just for you if we can just raise a few more companions this time."

"Oh dear, oh dear. I should have kept my own counsel, shouldn't I Aylwen?" The old man smiled to himself, leaned back in his chair and sipped upon his ale.

******

Put me in any town you fancy folks but it seems to make sense that we start in Edoras, seeing as that is where we are, aren't we?

Also, all ideas sound great but here's an extra one to go with the Fanghorn idea: Entwives! It upsets me in the book that they've gone and left old Treebeard and his young friend alone. It would be so nice if we could fix that problem in a way Tolkien would have approved of. We'll have to advertise for an Entwife or two - personal column anyone?

Sorry, lacking sleep and typing gibberish.

Someone asked me some serious questions up above, here goes ye olde answers:-
I feel planning is needed for the over all direction of where something is going, even if that plan is particularly skeletal. Good discussions go with that obviously. Within is the opportunity to be spontaneous and branch out the facets of your character. For example I never read Radagast as a negative character in the books, just so wrapped up in his own work he couldn't see the bigger picture and when faced with it just plain didn't want to. How many people in marriages etc in the mortal world end up the same way? Something comes along and shakes you out of it. You're still the same character you've always been, you just rediscover yourself at the same time. I hope that makes sense and doesn't sound too heavy for this time of night. (22.33!)

I agree with Mattius that our story worked because we didn't give up on it, even when we ended up writing for the characters we'd lost along the way. I'm looking forward to working with others who are equally committed. We didn't post daily. We couldn't: we have lives to lead, but we put our heart and soul into what we did do and perhaps that's the key to a good RPG. I also think that being nice to each other is important too, even if you probably think that's very wet and Radagast of me.

I think I've written too much. Demand an edit of me if I've given anyone migraine!

[Mattius]

"Here Radagast," Mattius said handing the wizard a small shot glass, "hold your nose and drink this, it will get your gut courage back up from days of old!"

**********

Ditto, I didn't have much faith in the old freestyle RPG room till I joined the blue mountains. Hopefully the follow on will be just as good or even better!

[ February 19, 2003: Message edited by: Mattius ]

[Amanaduial the archer]

Where did you get the idea for Kidnapped from?

Why, from this very inn Bethberry! Galadel Vinorel played her nick character, a princess from Lothlorien, and was telling of her mothers past, with what could have been the same idea as Kidnapped, although I changed it in its planning, and in the course of the game its changed even further. I asked if I could adapt her idea and she agreed; seems its a popular sort of idea, looking at Mithadans own.

[Mithadan]

'Tis not my idea, Aman. I can't claim ownership of "To Rescue Celebrian". The premise comes straight from LoTR. A stray paragraph in one of the appendices tells how Celebrian was captured by Orcs while traversing the Redhorn Pass en route to Lorien.

The Appendices contain many snippets of stories that could easily sustain lengthy RPGs. An idea for a game can come from a single line in The Tale of Years. Or a bit of conversation between characters in Unfinished Tales. Anyone interested in the tragic death of King Arvedui? The cats of Beruthiel?

I would like to hear what people think of mentoring or co-owning games; that is teaming up either with an experienced gamer or a less experienced person to run the game and provide assistance to the participants.

[Amanaduial the archer]

Thats a good plan Mith; didnt think of that. Unfortunately, my copy of LotR is with one of my friends...in wales. Hmmm. The cats of Beruthiel?
Qu'est ce-que?

[Mattius]

That phrase is from the chapter where the Fellowship pass through Moria, not sure of the exact quote but it was either Gimli or Aragorn who said it. Im sure someone else will know it word for word and post!

[Bêthberry]

I'm staking a provisional claim on the cats of Beruthiel. smilies/biggrin.gif

Bb

[Cuthalion]

Greetings, gentle-folk! Mithadan, would you possibly consider my RPG again? I think I'm up to the challenge now that I'm pretty certain I'm good for a few years.


There's always the search for the Nimphelos, perhaps? Or someone might just find Celebrimbor's "recipe" for ring-making...I've had more time than I wanted to think. smilies/wink.gif

[Bêthberry]

Let me answer for Mithadan, Cuthalion, if I may, in the interests of speeding the process along. My understanding is that it is accepted and we are waiting word from you on when you wish to start it. smilies/smile.gif

Bethberry

PS. All: I will be away for the weekend. Feel free to post in or out of character, as part of the discussion, or as part of the role playing here at the Inn. Just remember, this is a respectable Inn, all. smilies/smile.gif

[Amanaduial the archer]

I'm staking a provisional claim on the cats of Beruthiel.
!!!! smilies/mad.gif !!!

[Ithaeliel]

Nay, Aman: ¡¡¡ smilies/mad.gif !!!

So, does anyone hold a possible interest in joining the follow-up to TBM? smilies/biggrin.gif

[Cuthalion]

My thanks, Bethberry! I hope to get with Mithadan soon and get things underway.

[Auriel Haevasawen]

Radagast had taken on a manic grin since sampling the foul tasting liquid proffered to him by Mattius. "Of course, dear girl, of course. You lead and I'll follow!" He then burped loudly, leaving the others shaking their heads.

"Are we sure he's of the Istari?" Endereth laughed.

"He was once," said Mattius very seriously and then a cheery smile crossed his face, "He still is I'm just trying to get him drunk while we're holed up here. He was the one who mentioned mischief!"

Calentoliel giggled. "I think you've spent too much time alone together in the wild. It's time we brought some sanity back into your world."

"Sanity? With you two?" Mattius laughed so hard that tears began to trickle down his cheeks and he drew the attention of others in the pub. "Manwe preserve us from sanity bringing it's blight upon our plans. Friends are what we need, not restraint. Now pass me that bottle. Methinks Radagast can stomach another."

[Mattius]

Mattius laughed as Radagast hit another one back and almost fell off the barstool.
"I knew you could handle another old fellow!" He said as he heartedly slapped the back of the Brown Wizard.

**********

Ith, I have been thinking about your RPG proposal and I am very happy to go along with it. It would be very easy to introduce new players from any race in ME as the king has sent messengers pleading for a hero! What also would be cool is that if it was 1000 after TBM then we can create names for the new King of Gondor and King/Queen of Rohan etc or even have someone play as them. Which would be a very nice touch!

Anyways I will leave it to all the rest of the gang and the others who wish to play too.

Adios!

Matt

[Ithaeliel]

Ender shook her head, unable to stop laughing, as Radagast burped again, quite loudly, but then leaned his forearms on the bar, smiling dreamily. The Lorien ranger hailed the bartender. "I may as well have one; I wouldn't want dear Radagast to be drunk alone." And with that, she knocked back her half-pint, wiped the foam off her lips and smiled. "Ah; good, sweet ale, such as I've not had in a long time." Calentoliel laughed next to her as Radagast mumbled something about spotted hens and asked for one more round.

*********

Hey Matt!

I'm glad you like the idea! I originally was apprehensive about it since it was pretty rough. I agree that it would be pretty awesome to name the new kings/queens of Rohan and Gondor and have all kinds of different races (a representative from each region, perhaps? smilies/wink.gif). We'd be a little limited for elves, though, since we've already got a few and the rest will be pretty much be gone from Middle-earth by then. Otherwise, we're cool! We'll wait for the opinions of Auriel and Brinniel, then fill out the form and request to begin the discussion. I'm happy! I thought it would take a lot longer than this!

Hannon le,
Ith

[Mattius]

Mattius placed a gold coin on the bar and ordered a pitcher of ale and two pint glasses.

"Now we are getting somewhere old friend are we not? I hope your ready for more action Radagast! For some reason I forsee our future has much of it!" Radagast put his hand down and the empty glass rolled from his grip. He moved in to whisper to Mattius.

"Just as slong as we don't not leave in the morning Matjus," the wizard slurred, "for I am fearing a lather rarge headache!" Radagast sat back up. "But I am NOT drunk!" As he spoke he realised he had leaned back too far too fast and fell flat on his backside much to the amusement of his comrades.

"Hilarious," Radagast muttered as he picked himself up.

[ February 23, 2003: Message edited by: Mattius ]

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

Aylwen had remained silent for a long time: much longer than she was accustomed to. Typically Aylwen was a loud, rambunctious person, but not tonight. She'd had many other things to think about these days.

Observing the friendly jokes and antics of the companions Mattius, Radagast, Endereth, and Calentoliel, Aylwen was glad that they would continue their journey.

So, does anyone hold a possible interest in joining the follow-up to TBM?

Aylwen smiled as she remembered this comment. She'd be interested in creating a character to joint the characters of TBM in thier "quest" (I dislike that word...) to make Fangorn a safe place again.

*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!

Some of you have run your own games, and I wonder if you could expand on where or how you generated your plots/ideas.

The idea for Search for the Book arised thanks to my little sister. She is currently learning about ancient Egypt in her sixth grade social studies class. I remembered two years back when I did, and thought it would be cool to have a sort of Ancient Egyptian pyramid in the form of a mountain. Since I'm a more mortal type of girl, and since we would be allowed to have Elves and Dwarves (or, an elf and a dwarf), I chose Dale to be the starting point. I knew we'd need some reason to be going to an Egyptian-inspired mountain home of a lost race (A race of forgotten Elves of some sort), so I "invented" the Wanaparma. Now little Ari can find a cure for his mother! And we must prove to Jack Strife that the book exists.

I think the most exciting part of the Rpg will come when the travelers have to get through the mountain (pyramid!) and avoid all the booby traps and tricks in the place and get the book (and get the heck outta there!).

Would you prefer to see some kind of mentoring available for your games?

Forgive me for saying so, but Rohan is supposed to offer less moderating, but still be organized. If we wanted a lot of moderating and a closely watched RPG, we'd be in the Shire with the kind inkeepers, Cami and Pio. In Rohan I think that it is good to be having more imaginative games, like the Rohan RPG, The Blue Mountains RPG, Kidnapped RPG, Search for the Book RPG, and especially the My Crow Managment RPG, with it's cool crows and all.

The Appendices contain many snippets of stories that could easily sustain lengthy RPGs.

Very true. Or you could go with geography...say find a less inhabited place or something, perhaps? Off the top of my head: An RPG where there is a tunnel is in the Ered Lithui (Northern Range of Mordor), and it is allowing the Dark Lord's armies to travel into the area south of Dale, Mirkwood, and Erebor. The character's job would be to destroy the tunnel, and avoid lingering armies, and any evil on the fringe of Mordor's lands. Plus, it could start in my favorite city (Dale...of course!)!

So there are many ideas that can come from something as simple as one sentence, or as old as a chain of mountains. People just have to stop being afraid of being imaginative, if that makes any sense at all.

I can't remember anything else, and I'm tired anyway so... smilies/smile.gif

[cole]

Cole walked back into the tavern in actual good spirits. Not only has the "Threat" been neutralized but he could stay for another good while.


Cole sat back into the chair he was in before and saw susan had left. Well everyone has to leave sometime he guessed and drank somemore luna^anu.


It was definitly a night to remember this night. A few years ago before this great journey. But the past is something not easily talked about here and Cole still longed for someone to talk to.

[Bêthberry]

Greetings All,

Your responses here have been interesting and valuable; I hope many of the Rohan gamers have been able to follow the discussion and gain ideas for their own games and their own writing.

Aylwen, never fear that Rohan would set up a system of apprenticeship like that in The Shire! We certainly think the independence and responsiblity of Rohan are one of its attractions for those willing to take the challenge. smilies/smile.gif

However, Mithadan and I have found not a few gamers who are great writers and experienced gamers but who are hesitant to start games because of the onus of running them. We were wondering if, for those writers, we should at least offer the possibility of dual-ownership or backup moderation. This would not be an across-the-forum mandate for all Rohan games, but would be made available to those gamers who would like it. All gamer owners sometimes need a pat on the back or some brainstorming help! Why, I've even nudged BW in chat a bit to keep posting. smilies/wink.gif

I have been really impressed with the discussion of TBM gamers about their new game. So much so, that I am going to open up a new thread here in Rohan, where several gamers can post together to develop their ideas before submitting a proposal to either Gandalf the Grey or Susan via mailto:rohanproposals@barrowdowns.comrohanproposal s@barrowdowns.com</A> . It would not be a thread where people can audition for games--that would belong on the actual game discussion thread--but it would be a place for brainstorming before the game goes up.

I hope TBM folk take their discussion there to continue it and I hope any other interested gamers also use the thread for generating ideas.

I'll be back later with some ideas for getting the in-character role-playing subgames going again here in The White Horse.

Bethberry

PS. Aman, cats, too, in addition to all your other games? smilies/eek.gif You can have the idea if you want. smilies/wink.gif

[Amanaduial the archer]

I have a fan fic to do as well thanks Bethberry. The pussies are all yours Bethberry. smilies/biggrin.gif

Ransom; welcome back.

[Mattius]

Hey guys we can head over to the new thread to discuss the follow up to TBM!!

[Belin]

I've been invited to post here as well. Long ago, in the Freestyle Room, Susan Delgado and I started a game together called "Blue Sky, Night Thunder," later also known as "Fool's Errand." It started like this.

Susan had been played some games in the Freestyle room, and with her 501st post wanted to start a one of her own. I had been watching the rpgs a little, but hadn't played one yet, aside from a post or two in an extraordinarily silly semi-game called "Let's attack Valinor!!!!!!!" The idea originated with her, and (oddly enough) as a kidnapping. There wasn't much more to the idea at that point. She came up with a name--Thorondruin, a rough translation of a name she'd used elsewhere, and I came up with one, Hithduiniel, and we designed the characters to be as much at odds with one another as possible, an interesting thought in view of the brevity of their actual contact. Thorondruin was the kidnapper; Susan can probably tell you more about him. But Hithduiniel also grew from her name: I thought that she should be misty herself, with hidden agendas and less palatable layers that would only be fevealed after a reader had begun to feel sorry for her as a victim.

I think it was my idea to make her a Green Elf, mostly because a laiquendi perspective, it seemed to me, would be interesting and quite different from anything I'd seen (I hadn't yet read UT, and so there are many inaccuracies), and to make the treasure that Thorondruin was seeking somewhere in Ossiriand, and I think it was Susan that decided to make it the Silmaril they were seeking (or maybe that was me?).

Essentially, then, our process was to come up with two characters and a relationship between them, and then to situate it. So much of this was developed in conversation that, as you can see, the ideas began to belong to both of us, and not to be differentiated anymore; I don't think either of us would have come up with quite what we did on our own. So that's one way to collaborate. (Remdil, incidentally, was a totally spontaneous idea who wasn't even supposed to last; I have no clue how he happened.)

This, incidentally, is one reason I seldom post in the inns. All my characters are based on context, on what might prove interesting in the surroundings and on the other characters. An inn doesn't provide me with the same sort of definite storyline or other characters to work with, so I haven't been able to create a good inn character with which to post (I make a lousy RPG character as myself).

In any case, Susan and I seem to have started this process again, in a more focused and knowledgable way. So... beware!

--Belin Ibaimendi,
Fool Errant

[ February 28, 2003: Message edited by: Belin ]

[Mattius]

Mattius lept up from his chair and onto the bar standing high so that all attention was focused on him.

"Good people, we are in search for companions on a new quest where danger will be at every turn. Be you man, dwarf or even hobbit please come and find out more!

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

Fancy yourself as a bit of a hero and RPGer? I especially like Ransom's Sir Barak Mindalel and also he is from Gondor so that would be really good! Check out the brainstorming thread on Rohan as we are currently discussing a new game based in Fangorn, should be a survival horror classic. Anyways if your interested head over!

Matt

[ March 02, 2003: Message edited by: Mattius ]

[cole]

OOC: Is there room for elves?

[Cuthalion]

OOC: I'm assuming all are welcome.

[Mattius]

Are you two refering to my post? If so, there is probably room for ONE more elf, as it is 1019 years after war of the ring. Main charcaters will be men of Rohan/Gondor, including kings/princes if you are interested as well as Ents too.

[Airerûthiel]

Laitalathion sat sipping another ale, feeling lost and a little bored. He had heard that it was to this inn that his brother had come seeking work, and instead had found himself whisked away into an adventure - albeit one where he met death at the hands of his kindred. Whilst the half-Elf knew that quests did not grow on trees, in his heart he still longed for the freedom of the open roads, the journeys into the wilds of Middle-earth, the re-awakening of the legends of valour and bravery he had stayed up for hours listening to as a child in the house of Pennrod.

Pennrod...his uncle, who had laid dead for nigh on five years or more...he had seen the Gondorian's features in the face of the ghostly maiden who haunted his dreams. She was young and slender, no more than a child, yet seemed to be many years older - the cares she carried were those of one who had seen many terrible things in her life. Her eyes were haunted with unspeakable horrors, and she almost seemed to be wordlessly pleading with Laitalathion when she came to him by night.

The words he thought he heard her whispering in his ears now rang in his head, echoing as though they were being shouted down a tunnel beneath Cirith Ungol. "Who are you?" It was a question that puzzled Laitalathion constantly, and he sighed with resignation as he drained the last of the ale in his pewter mug.

Who was he? There was the obivous answer: he was Laitalathion son of Théomer, Ranger of Ithilien. But there were other answers to that question; he was nephew to Pennrod of the Rocconinquë, who was slaughtered along with his family one bitterly cold night long years ago. He was a traitor to Gondor, branded as such by the military for an act of treason his father had been blamed for but had not committed. He was a murderer, one who had killed his own brother for no apparent reason.

He wanted to answer the girl's question more than anything in the world - even his desire to wake up and see his mother once more. It was the girl's lips that moved in his dreams, but it was the voice of Orowethwen of Mirkwood that came to Laitalathion's ears. He was slowly becoming dependent on these night-time visions as a way of escaping from the harsh reality of his past deeds, but he knew that they were slowly destroying him - and it was not against his own will.

There was only one way to answer her request, and he knew what he had to do. To give her a true and honest reply would take a long time of many tales - legends from his past of why his father's name was still called traitorous in Gondor, of the long journey his mother had made to protect her sons while trying to hide her own emotions, of the brothers' travels in Middle-earth as they searched for more knowledge of their people.

Would he tell these tales? He reached for the pitcher and poured himself another drink, sipping it carefully as he thought long and hard about whether to stay in this inn and talk of his past, or whether to set out across the rolling plains of the Riddermark and see where the road chose to take him.

[ March 14, 2003: Message edited by: Airerûthiel ]

[Horse-Maiden of the Shire]

Elwing trudged into the inn, exhausted. She had been riding her pony, Gil-collo, all day for many, many days. Making her way from the Shire to Rohan took a lot out of herself and her pony, but luckily Gil-collo was of a hardy nature, obedient and steady. She smiled wearily as she thought of him, sleepily munching on hay in the stable.

She stepped up to the bar and ordered a pint of ale and a bit of bread and cheese. Carefully carrying her makeshift meal to the nearest vacant table, she sat down with a sigh of relief.

Elwing surveyed the new and unfamiliar inn. Looking around, she saw a man sitting by himself, sipping his drink. He looked quite bored. Elwing suddenly grew self-conscious of herself, being (she assumed) the only hobbit in the White Horse Inn. She looked about warily, and although her experience with Ferri and Crystal in the Green Dragon had helped to prepare her for dealing with strangers, she still startled easily. She felt like a grain of sand next to the Big People and Elves that were all around her.

Elves...they sparked memories of her dark past. No, not again. Not again. She bent her head over her mug of ale, eyes stinging.

[DayVampyre]

"Let go of me!"

"Where's the gold you promised us?"

"Hey! You'll get your precious gold, as soon as I can get some!"

**Outside in the ice and snow, three lone figures stood on a side street close to the White Horse. Two large men of an unintelligent countance stood menacingly over a shorter girl. She had brown hair and darker brown eyes. She wore a loose white shirt with sleeves that reached to her forearm. They had been ripped to that length by the knife that she always carried with her. She was also wearing a black coat that streched to the snowy ground. Had her arms not been covered, a tattoo of a black dagger on the underside of her left forearm would have been visible.**

"Listen here, you miserable little thief!" the larger man said grabbing her roughly about the shoulders "You promised us gold! Now, I think we've been more than patient" he said, now, picking her up and slamming her against the wooden beam behind her. He was strong and it had knocked the wind out of her.

"Get your stinkin' hands offa me!" She kicked him hard in the side and he dropped her to the ground. She quickly rolled off the side and stood up. She brushed the snow off and looked up. The other man was lunging toward her and had brandished a sword. She drew her own knife and sword holding one in each hand. He made a stab for her stomach and narrowly missed. She went to the right and plunged her knife into the lower part of his leg. He grunted and fell into the snow. Having fitfully impaired her fine business associates, she cleaned off her sword and resheathed both of her weapons. She brushed some of the dirtier snow from her black pants and headed for the 'Horse'.

She pushed open the wooden door and was met with a blast of warm air. She pushed her stray hairs from her eyes and took off her coat. Now that her bulky coat was gone the girl's silver necklace glittered by the fire light. On it hung a small silver dragon. She pulled her hair back into a ponytail and displayed her ears that were decorated with small silver earings. Three in each ear, each hoop a little smaller than the last. The tavern was full tonight. Perhaps a bit of light pickpocketing, but she had heard that the owner, Bethberry, had keen eyes and did not suffer pick pockets very well. Looking over to one of the bar's walls she saw a poster that particually caught her eye.

~WANTED: Avery {Last name Unknown}. For the multiple crimes robbery and more robbery. Brown hair and eyes, belived to be in town~

This attempt made her laugh a little. The wall must have been some sort of notice board and her poster had others overlapping it anyway.
She walked over to the bar and luckily found a free stool. Avery sat down and waited for the next available barkeep.

[Horse-Maiden of the Shire]

She blinked, hard. Elwing told herself, I will not cry, I will not cry....will not cry! Amazingly her eyes stopped stinging and she felt much better. Brushing a lock of her golden hair behind her ear, she looked up as the inn door opened. A girl walked in, a girl with brown eyes and brown hair. Elwing shifted her gaze as the girl walked across the room, smirked at a wall poster, and sat down at a nearby bar stool. She had a white shirt on. Elwing glanced down at her own dark green shirt, deep blue cloak, and brown knee-length trousers. She had kept her garments surprisingly well during her journey.

As she tossed her hair out of her face, she felt her bow and quiver shift and almost slide off her back. She caught them just in time and replaced them to their proper locations. As she took a sip from her mug, she wondered if she should go and speak with the girl. Although she was wary, for here in Rohan it was much different than in the Shire, she made her decision. Finishing her meal, she got up and made her way over to the bar stool.

She clinked a few gold coins down on the bar counter to pay for her food and turned to the girl. As she prepared to speak, she fixated the girl with her eyes. Her eyes; when she was...younger, they had talked about them. Nobody, including herself, had ever seen such eyes before. They were stormy-sea blue near the edges, gradually shading to yellow around the pupil.

"Excuse me...is this seat empty?" Elwing inquired, gesturing to the stool beside the girl. As she waited for an answer, she fidgeted with a fold of her deep blue cloak.

[ March 13, 2003: Message edited by: Horse-Maiden of the Shire ]

[DayVampyre]

Avery looked down at the halfling.

"sure, Can I get you a drink?"

Despite the fact that Elwing had already eaten, she heartly accepted the offer.

"So, what brings you to the White horse tonight" the Hobbit inquired.

"Oh, the cold, one of the few warm places around." Avery replied. She had never talked with a halfling before. Two pints of a strong brew were brought over and Avery tossed four sliver pieces into the barkeep's hand.

"So where do you hail from, my halfling friend?"

[Ithaeliel]

Main charcaters will be men of Rohan/Gondor, including kings/princes if you are interested as well as Ents too.

And if you feel a sudden surge of creativity and think you can hold it for a few months, you may also play an Entwife! I don't think there's much room for elves, so sorry to disappoint some of you. Instead, try expanding your horizons! Be unique; play an Ent for a change or a man. It's more of a challenge.

[Estelyn Telcontar]

The door to the White Horse opened, bringing a breath of spring into the room. With a smile on her lips, a woman entered, her cloak thrown loosely about her shoulders. Though it was late afternoon, the sun still shone vigorously, and most of the inhabitants and visitors of the city were outside. Annawyn walked over to the Innkeeper and greeted her warmly.

“Good day, Bethberry! How nice to see you!”

“Annawyn! You have made your presence rare here of late!” Bethberry exclaimed.

“Indeed,” the guest sighed, “these past weeks have been very busy. With the coming of spring, all the ladies of the king’s household seem to want new dresses, and the maidens and I have been working hard to finish them. The complicated work is done now, and they can sew hems and seams by themselves. I need to see something else for a change. Do you have one of your wonderful little cakes for me, and a cup of tea to go with it?”

“Of course,” the Innkeeper answered. “Better yet, I have some time to sit down with you before the evening’s guests come in.”

“Wonderful!” Annawyn smiled. “Tell me, what has been going on in the city – I long for a little news, even gossip, if you have some for me.”

[Airerûthiel]

Laitalathion had seen those who came and went passing in and out of the inn. His mind was no longer focussed on the card game, but rather on those people that he had seen walking into the White Horse. The young hobbit was clearly a lone traveller like himself; he had sympathised with her greatly, but she had appeared perfectly capable of looking after herself, if a little naive. And then there was the 'business transaction' as he thought of it - the two men still lay outside, their moans long silenced by their attacker. He wondered if she would try and take advantage of some unsuspecting patron during her stay. The other woman he had never seen before in his life, yet she seemed strangely familiar.

"Are you all right?" asked Adanedhel. His new friend had seemed strangely quiet, as though he was not focussed on the game. It did not seem right that he was back on a winning streak again; the Gondorian appeared far too strong that he would allow himself to be beaten so easily.

Laitalathion nodded. "It is nothing. I am just thinking on something that came to me in my dreams whilst watching new patrons come into the inn. Forgive me if I have not been concentrating on this fine game." He glanced down at his hand of cards, and then at Adanedhel's, which were spread out on the floor before him. "Although this time I believe I have beaten you," he said, smiling a little as he threw down his set.

Adanedhel collected up the cards and begam to deal them out again. "So tell me," he said eventually, "what made you come to Rohan? We rarely see travellers choosing not to go further west in these times of trouble. Why did you decide to remain in this borderland?"

Laitalathion shrugged. "Let me put it to you in this manner. If I were a country, I would be Rohan; were it a person, it would come in my form. We are alike in personality - neither wanted nor rejected, neither necessary nor dispensable. I am seeking to join the army of the Horse-lords and then settle down to a life in Edoras, for although my heart belongs to Ithilien my soul settles in the Riddermark.

"But I would like to hear some more about yourself, good sir. Those wood carvings I saw you working on in the inn were of exceptionally fine quality. They say silver talks mightily in this day and age, and I am willing to part with the little I have in exchange for one of your works. Tell me, how did you come about discovering your gifts in this matter?"

[Nurumaiel]

The door to the White Horse opened once more, and a tall man of Rohan stepped in, giving a cheery smile to everyone who turned to see who the newcomer was. Culoth jumped up from the bench she was sitting upon and hurried forward towards him. "Firramer," she said, "what are you doing here?"

"Oh, I just thought I'd stop by and get an ale. It's been a weary day of riding for me," he said. "Would you mind if I sat with you?"

"Of course not," she smiled.

They went to the table she had been sitting at and sat down side by side on the bench. Culoth fingers traced the patterns on the wood table, trying to keep the question she longed to ask inside. Firramer would be tired and wouldn't want to be pestered by questions, especially ones she already knew the answer to. But she could not resist, so she burst out eagerly, "Tell me… were you riding with Father today?"

"Yes, I was," said Firramer. "And I had a few other riders with me, one of them Permacar. Rochir -and his brother- begged to come with us, but your father wouldn't allow it. He told them, 'Sometimes I do let you come, but today could be dangerous.'" Firramer touched the sword at his side. "Today was not so dangerous, and these were of no use."

"Firramer, do you have any tales to tell?" Culoth asked. She nodded her head to the small crowd in the inn. "These people here at the Horse do love a good tale, and your tales are wonderful."

"Well, I suppose if I were asked I could make a good enough tale," he said thoughtfully. "The Elf who was traveling to Lothlórien and passed through the Gap of Rohan. And it's true, as well. Your father was also there, I believe. In fact, when Permacar insulted her horse she grew angry and challenged us to race. Thoan was the one with the swiftest horse, so he did."

"Really?" Culoth looked amused. "I suppose that was many years ago?"

"Many years ago." A wide smile came to his face. "In fact, Lady Culoth, your father was so young that he didn't know how to act. He'll tell you himself he was rather rude to the Elf maiden, saying she had no business in Rohan and the like."

"I would love to hear that tale told," said Culoth, looking innocently the other way.

Firramer was silent for a moment, and then he smiled and stood up. As he walked towards the counter he said, "When you go home, ask your father, and he'll tell you."

"But, Firramer!" Culoth jumped off the bench and hurried after him. "All these people would love to hear the tale as well." She looked at him with pleading eyes. "Please, Firramer?"

He stopped for a moment, but did not turn around. "Well, Lady Culoth, if they ask, I'll consider telling the tale, but now all I want is a good mug of ale."

Culoth rolled her eyes and went back to the table. Firramer was always so easy to convince when he visited them! He loved to tell tales, but he was acting so stubborn now. Of course he would be tired, but he had once told her, "No ale, no meal… no, nothing can cheer me up after a long day like a good tale, whether listening or telling, though telling, my girl, is the better."

Let him have his ale. He'd tell the tale eventually, whether the inn wanted him to or not. He wouldn't be able to keep back from it, especially if it were a tale about the Elf he would always speak of.

[Horse-Maiden of the Shire]

Without hesitating, Elwing answered, "The Shire." Amazed at herself, for lying was her bad habit and she had told the truth, she smiled, and continued on. "I was tired of my old life, so I packed up my pony and went on a journey. What is your name, may I ask? I am Elwing."

"I am Avery. 'Elwing'...it sounds strange. Is it not Elvish?" inquired Avery. Elwing swallowed hard and forced herself to control her emotions. Already an ache was growing in her heart. Why did this always have to happen? Someone just had to mention Elves or Elvish or Elven, and she nearly burst into tears every time. Opening her eyes wide, she answered, "Yes, it is Elvish. It means 'Star-spray'. My pony's name is Gil-collo, which is 'Star-cloak'."

"Ah..." said Avery. They both took a moment to drink some of their brew, and then they turned to chatting again. Elwing took her chance and asked, "Now it is my turn. Where do you hail from, Avery?"

[Adanedhel]

The cards were flitting back and forth between Adanedhel's hands, he unconciously shuffling them as he listened to Laitalathion. When Laitalathion questioned where his talent for wood carvings came from Adanedhel shrugged and said:

'I myself do not know. I first started carving things out of wood when I was young, living with the wood Elves of Mirkwood. I used to carve people, Elven Warriors, Elven Maids, things like that but soon I found I could carve animals so much better'

The cards spun from his hand one to Laitalathion one to himself and so it went until both had thirteen cards a piece.

'I used to spend hours upon hours in the forest finding pieces of wood and then sitting and carving an animal. Deer, birds, bears and rabbits, any animal that came with the forest I would carve'

Adanedhel placed down the left over cards and picked up his own, quickly and efficiently ordering them in his hand, Laitalathion doing the same

'Though now I only carve out of boredom or if I see something that would be interesting or hard to carve

He pulled out a small carving of a man, the wood was worn and was so smooth it had the feeling of some sort of glass. The little man was wearing a large long cloak at the bottom of which poked the toes of a pair of riding boots, on his back was strapped a sword a two handed sword. The cowl of his hood was thrown back and his longish hair hung low in thick strands, his face carved to look weather worn.
He placed the man on the table in between the two card players and looked at it for a moment and smiled

'This was my first ever carving, when I carved it I said to my Elven teacher that this was what I was going to look like when I was older and that with the sword I would kill many Orcs'

Adanedhel chuckled to himself at the memory

'He laughed at me and said "If that's what you think little child" I remember being so angry about that and was determined to become like my carving'

He smiled warmly and picked up a card

'Seems determination pays off'

[ March 14, 2003: Message edited by: Adanedhel ]

[DayVampyre]

It had been long indeeed since Avery had had such a cheery and light hearted conversation. But more often than not, Avery did not deal with the most cheery of folk.

"Where do you hail from?" Elwing had posed her question with an eloquence that only a hobbit could posess.

" A small town, just outside of Rohan, I think."

"You don't know of sure where you're from?"

"well, I was pretty young at the time to remember. I never have stayed in one plce long enough to call home. I prefer to keep moving. Keeps me from gettin' bored with life." Avery reached over for her pint, the tattooed dagger on her arm caught the hobbit's attention.

"Nice mark, what did you get that for?" she said a bit puzzled as to why one would paint themselves so.

"Like it? I have had it since about three or four summers ago. " She bent down low to whisper into the hobbit's ear "All those who belong to the Rouges of the Mark, a gang of thieves, wear them." she resumed her sitting position. "Another good reason as to why I move around" she chuckled and ordered another pint. Avery turned to Elwing to ask if she would partake in another round when the tavern's wooden door banged open. Two guards stomped in, right behind them where the two "gentlemen" that Avery had thought she had dealt with.

"That's her! Over there at the bar! Next to the runt!" The oaf shouted. The two guards began to push their way toward the bar.

"Well, Elwing, t'was a pleasure making your aquaintence, must do it again sometime" Avery hastily threw down a few more sliver coins and got to her feet "Have yourself another pint, and have mine as well, take care." Avery threw her coat over her shoulders and bolted for the back of the tavern. The guards were closing around her and fast. Backed to a wall, Avery tried the window but the cursed thing was locked. She turned her gaze to a long hall and took off down it. There were many doors leading off to rooms. Avery could hear the guards and soon they would be rounding the corner. She tried a knob, locked. Another, locked, The next, locked and bolted. One more, the knob turned and Avery dashed in. She quickly locked the door. Home free, she thought. But a loud AHEM from behind, seemed to tell her different...

[Horse-Maiden of the Shire]

Avery whirled around, her eyes wide. Elwing couldn't help but chuckle at her expression; it was that of a frightened child rather than that of a hardened criminal.

"Surprised to see me, are you?" teased Elwing, strolling over to Avery. She relaxed and sat down on a nearby chair. Elwing gave her a quizzical look, and asked, "Do the people here not know a halfling when they see one? 'Runt' indeed!"

Avery laughed and grinned at her. She could tell that this hobbit, when around people for a bit of time, liked to tease and make jokes. Elwing said, "Well, I'd better go check on Gil-collo. Back in half a minute."

She squeezed out of the window and jogged lightly toward the stable. As she stepped inside, the warm scent of horse and pony invaded her nostrils. She went to Gil-collo's stall, but was surprised and alarmed to see that it was vacant. "Gil-collo? You there, boy?"

A nicker out of the corner gave her relief, and she stepped in to rub his nose. "Quiet and shifty as the shadows, are you? That will be your name henceforth: Dae, 'Shadow'." She made sure he had enough food and water, and returned to Avery.

Climbing back in through the window, she asked a question she had been itching to since she had seen the dagger on Avery's arm: "Avery...if it might please you, may I join your gang of thieves?"

[ March 16, 2003: Message edited by: Horse-Maiden of the Shire ]

[Airerûthiel]

Laitalathion could not help overhearing the young hobbit's conversation with her horse, not even noticing that he had won the round in the card game. He had a strange feeling that she was about to walk into a trap of some kind; although she looked innocent and naive, he had a feeling she could take care of herself. The two ruffians had recovered from their injuries, and the overheard conflict in the inn had been loud enough to reach the stables. He could not help thinking that the hobbit's renaming her horse might mean that she was thinking of going over to the side of evil.

Adanedhel's story had intrigued the Gondorian. He was always curious to hear about the lives of others, perhaps because he had been protecting his own identity for so long. But there was something about his companion that Laitalathion still could not work out - it was almost like trying to solve a very difficult riddle when the answer was staring you in the face.

The half-Elf dealt out the cards once more, considering whether or not to leave this inn. The company and ale were both good, but he had a sense that he had now outworn his welcome. He had to find the girl from his dream, she who bore his mother's eyes and resembled Pennrod of Gondor. And yet...if adventure had found Maikadurion in this inn, perhaps it would be wise to stay a little longer.

Whatever choice Laitalathion made, he knew he would be forced to make it soon. Rohan was the place where he was to settle, he knew that deep inside. But before he could look to the future, he must first unearth his past.

[DayVampyre]

Avery had made herself quite at home while Elwing had been away. When the hobbit returned, Avery had taken a place by the ifire in a rather comfortable chair. She had swept the hair out of her eyes taken her coat back off. When Elwing posed her question, Avery stopped and thought for a moment.

"Join? Well, Elwing, the gang is not mine, but if it was, I would heartily accept offer. Not many want to go into my noble profession."

"How did you get in?"

"Accident really. I came to Rohan when I was about 11, I believe. I scraped out a living of petty pickpocketing. Not the best two years, let me tell you." Avery leaned foward in her chair and lit a long ebony colored pipe "Then one day, I was in the main square and saw this man. He looked rich. Fine clothes, perfectly combed hair, the whole nine yards. So, what was a thief to do? I went over and tried to pick his pocket."

"Tried?"

"well, I got caught. Absolutly terrified. Thought I was goin' to lose a hand. The man took me aside and let me in on The Rouges of the Mark. LIfe got loads better, he's kinda like a father I suppose. He's taught me everything I know about thievery and crime. Tomorow I'll take you down to our hide-out, if you like. It's outside the city, though..."

[Bêthberry]

Bethberry's face beamed with delight at Annawyn's unexpected appearance at The Horse.

"Perfect timing," she said, as she drew the seamstress towards a small alcove at the back of the Inn, past the mead hall. "An afternoon tea and small honey cake would be ideal right about now." Bethberry nodded at Fròma, who replied with his own nod of the head and returned to the kitchen, to prepare the tea service.

So saying, the two women sat down in the cushioned chairs beside a small wrought iron table which was placed in front of glass windows. They gave out onto a courtyard patio, which was still covered in snow, but snow that was melting in the afternoon sunlight. The day was all the brighter for the sun's reflection on the snow.

Hyacinths, tulips and paperwhites, in forced bloom in clay pots, were spread around the room in hopes of instilling some sense of spring in a long, late, cold winter.

"I don't normally like hyacinths; their scent is too strong," said Bethberry, "but this year we seemed to need every sign of spring we could muster."

"Indeed, it has been a strange and hard season," intoned Annawyn, and the slight frown on her face suggested that the two women would first put their heads together in discussion of some more serious or dark purpose to their relationship.

Yet once Fròma brought the tea service and cakes, their demeanour changed and from the laughter and even giggles ensuing it would appear that they delighted in the tales told each other. That the window provided the women with an opportunity to watch one of the rear alley ways of Edoras seemed mere happenstance.

[Horse-Maiden of the Shire]

Elwing nodded and said, "Tis alright. Well, I am going to retire for the afternoon, for all my energy is quite taken out of me. Come and rouse me if you like; my room is the fifth on the left. Namarie, nin mellon." Surprised and delighted at how the Elvish unfazed her, Elwing bowed and left the room-through the window, of course, in case the guards were still about.

She stepped into the inn through the main door and was surprised at how full it still was. Looking at the clock, she saw that it was well past three o'clock. But, she knew that these people were of a different nature than the hobbits in the Shire. Of course they ate at unnatural hours; but only unnatural to her.

Elwing bade the innkeeper Bethberry (who was on the patio) a good afternoon and made her way upstairs. Stepping into her room, she cast herself upon the soft, downy bed and fell immediately asleep.

She screamed. Where was everyone? Looking about her, Elwing saw that she was alone. What had happened to her room in the inn? All she knew was that it was dark, and misty, and that she was alone. Utterly alone. She heard a rustling in the forest behind her and whirled around.

Elwing jerked awake, a cry tearing apart her lips. She sat up abruptly in bed, heart pounding and eyes wide. Realizing that she was back at the inn, safe at the inn, she slowly began to calm down her terrified nerves. Her throat loosened and she began to breathe more easily. What had that been about? All she knew was that she had been alone in her dream. She had been terrified. But why? She had never, ever had that nightmare before. It was all new to her. As she sluggishly tried to piece it together, her weariness and will to sleep took over her body and she dropped off again.

[ March 17, 2003: Message edited by: Horse-Maiden of the Shire ]

[DayVampyre]

Avery stayed in the room for a few minutes. She put out her pipe and went over to the door. She listened for a minute or so. Nothing but the dull roar of usual customers. She unlocked the door and stepped back into the inn. Having had to rush out so suddenly, Avery had not eaten for some time. She went of to the bar ordered some food and took it over to an open table close to a window. She sat down and began to eat. The inn served quite wonderful food. Avery thought to herself, remembering visits to other establishments and how terrible some of the food was there. Avery ate about half of her food, quite satisfied. Seeing as it was mid afternoon, Avery took to her pipe again. From her seat she surveyed the other customers...

[Nurumaiel]

Culoth found her mind drifting away from the noises of the inn and going back to her little home with her parents and younger brothers. She could see the boys playing in front of the house, her mother sitting on the doorstep, watching them as she patched up the clothes from their latest adventure, and her father saddling up his horse to go riding. Firramer and Permacar were standing there, holding the reins of their horses, waiting for her father.

She came back to the inn and saw that Firramer had rejoined her, mug of ale in his hand. He seemed to be somewhere else, as well.

"Can you tell the story now, Firramer?" she asked, and he turned to her with a start.

"Not now, lass," he said. "I told you I couldn't until someone asked me. Someone other than yourself. But I can tell you a different tale, if you like."

"Oh yes, please," Culoth begged.

"After I finish my ale." And he set to work on doing that. Culoth could see the eager light in his eyes that meant one thing... he was ready to tell a tale.

[Horse-Maiden of the Shire]

Elwing awoke slowly. She stretched and yawned. Contemplating whether to fall back asleep or get up, she chose the latter and sat up. Rubbing her eyes, she turned on a lamp and slid her feet onto the carpeted floor. Realizing that Avery hadn't come and gotten her, she decided that she would stay up in her room for a bit before joining the crowd downstairs in the bar.

Elwing remembered her nightmare and passed it off as being uneasy about sleeping in an unknown place. Getting dressed slowly, she uncovered a book that had fallen off the dresser in her room. The title was 'Far-off Tales: Compiled by Freger Burrows.'

Intrigued, Elwing sat back down upon her bed and began to read. Soon she had forgotten all about Avery, all about the White Horse, all about Rohan. She was lost in the world of the book.

[Auriel Haevasawen]

There was so much happening in the ale house that no one took much notice of the drunken wizard and his companions. They were glad to be together again and discussed a thousand ideas they had about places they might go now they had been reunited.

"We must have a brainstorm between us and come up with something," said Mattius.

"I think Radagast will come up with something in a minute," Endereth pointed at the green-shaded old man.

Calentoliel laughed. "Let us take rooms here and rest awhile. Something will happen. It always does."

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

At a loose end? Come and brainstorm on the brainstorming thread. Several gamers with no game are there, pondering ideas. We've submitted a topic but will need role players. Come and discuss any characters you have a mind to play. It will be in Fanghorn initially. Other stories under discussion though!

[DayVampyre]

Avery smiled as she watched from her table. The group was close by and seemed to be making quite a bit of merriment. Being a bit bored, Avery went over to their table.

"Something will happen, it always does" one had just finshed.

"How does the happening of a round of drinks sound?" Avery said. A hand pulled her down into an open seat and Avery bought the table a round of fine ale.

OoC: I hope thats ok with you all. smilies/wink.gif

[Horse-Maiden of the Shire]

Elwing's stomach growled. Awoken from her reverie of far-off lands, she decided that she must go down to the main room for a bit of food. Setting the book lovingly on her bed, she shrugged into her cloak and went out of her room. She locked the door and went down the stairs.

As she entered the main room, the pungent odour of ale and pipeweed hit her nose. She inhaled deeply and happily, for it brought back memories of the Shire, her home. Suddenly she remembered something. Had she brought her pipe and pipeweed along? Elwing dashed back up the stairs and searched in her pack. A flood of relief coursed through her body as she lifted out her pride and joy: her pipe. It was black, engraved with the words Smoke and Smoke Well! in Elvish. She had made it when she was younger, a silly project, but for some reason she had become attached to it and now she used it as her normal pipe.

As she walked back down the stairs, she filled her pipe and put it in her mouth. Lighting it, she inhaled and exhaled deliciously. Stepping up to the bar, she ordered some meat, cheese, and honeycake along with a tankard of ale.

[Ithaeliel]

Endereth smiled as the girl, Avery, joined them at their table and handed them all out a round. "Greetings, my friend, and thank you for the ale! You can see Radagast here may need another before he's able to, er... find peace of mind."

Mattius laughed as the tipsy wizard gave a frown. "Why, I'm ad perfect meace of pind! But, jes, I will have another..." he mumbled as he downed his last pint and gave a contented sigh before falling onto the table, fast asleep.

Ender looked at Calentoliel with an eyebrow raised. "We will definitely be needing rooms. I believe I'll check in. Mattius, when I return, would you take Radagast up to the room, please?"

Ender approached the counter, reserved a room, and came back to the table witht he key. "We'll wait for you here," she said as Mattius gently slapped the wizard half-awake and pulled him up. Avery shook her head and half-smiled. "I don't look forward to seeing the hangover he'll be waking up with. Poor wizard!"

Calentoliel turned to Avery. "So, where do you hail from and what brings you to Rohan?"

[DayVampyre]

Avery smiled as she took a drink from her tankard.

"I am from around these parts, I tend to move around a lot, so there really is no place that I can claim to hail from. As to why I am here, nothing like a good drink and warm food to revive a weary traveller. And what of you and your party? You all seem to be a lively bunch."

Avery settled back into the chair and relit her pipe...

[Mattius]

"Come on," Mattius said as he heeved Radagast up and across the room, "old friends and great times wait for you in your dreams!"

The Wizard stopped in the middle of the room and his strong physical power, not apparent from his outward appearnce, forced Mattius to stop in his tracks too.

"I have a thought good Firnlord!" Said the Istari. Mattius smiled at the mention of his true name.

"Ah Radagast when you call me Firnlord it is like a lost childhood returns to my heart!" Radagast laughed as Mattius spoke and reached inside his cloak grinning and pulled out a long wooden flute.

"This my boy," he whispered into the elf's ear so that the room seemed silent except for his voice, "was given to me by the Entwives many many many years ago." At the mention of the Entwives his face saddened.

"Fear not Radagast I am sure you will soon see them again," Mattius said consoling him. It seemed to work.

"Yes my boy," he smilled, "but untill then their greatness shall live through music!" With this he put the wooden flute to his aged lips and began to play, quietly at first so that it seemed nothing more than a background noise. Soon though it began to become louder and conversations around the room began to die down as the Music of the Entwives began. The flute was the only sound except for the sound of Radagast taking breaths every so often. Warriors, farmers, Rangers and staff stood silent as the music took them to far away places where peace with nature was perfect, where the Entwives lived with the Ents and there was no evil, suddenly though the room seemed to darken and the music turned sombre and a few drinkers began to weep softly as the Entwives were gone and peace became war. The music created great images in the minds of the listeners and now those images were of loneliness and hostility.

However just before the song was over Radagast added an opptimistic note at the end, that the Entwives may be found, and perhaps soon.

He lowered the flute from his lips and the strange dark, but comfortable atmosphere, was lifted from the room. Suddenly from all quaters clapping and cheering was to be heard and Radagast turned to Mattius looking worn out.

"Now I am ready for bed good friend."

[Horse-Maiden of the Shire]

Elwing swallowed the last bit of her food and sighed in contentment. Every bite had been delicious. The Horse had excellent cooks, it seemed. She pushed her stool back from the bar and got up to check on Dae. Stepping out of the inn, she inhaled the crisp air. Elwing walked over to the stable and stepped in. As she went over to Dae's stall, she hesitated, then grabbed the bridle. A short ride would be fine. She needed to be out of the inn for a while and Dae needed exercising anyway.

She led Dae out of the stable and mounted. Trotting out of Edoras, quite forgetting everything for a while as she rode into the country, Elwing was lost in a dream world (as she always was when she rode; it was her passion). She ignored everything until she heard a shrill cry on the wind. She pulled up Dae sharply and stopped moving. Thinking it was just her imagination, she began to urge Dae on again when she heard it yet one more time. It sounded like a distressed animal. Knowing the risks, knowing that it might be a trap, Elwing turned Dae and rode like mad toward the sound. She had a soft spot for animals. While with the Elves (strangely enough, she had become immune to getting misty-eyed and achy-hearted when hearing or thinking of Elves) she had had many pets and the Elves had even come to her at times to ask for advice on their horses.

The sound got louder and louder as she continued riding. Then, so fast she almost galloped over it, she came upon a hawk floundering upon the ground. Elwing immediately felt a pang of pity for the poor thing, for it had a thorny branch stuck halfway through its wing, near the tip. She dismounted Dae and approached the frightened bird, talking to it soothingly in Elvish. The bird continued to cry shrilly and flap its wings pitifully. Seeing that she would need something else, Elwing rummaged in her saddlebag and came up with a sleeping-potion that she had put together. Seizing the bird's head, she squeezed a drop into its beak. Almost immediately the hawk slumped onto the ground. Putting her hand on its breast, Elwing was relieved to feel that it was still breathing regularly. Now was the part she hated.

She could heal animals, she knew she could, but she hated to think she was causing them pain even if she was healing them. Now she worked the branch out carefully, finally getting it out. The poor hawk had a nasty hole in its wing now. Elwing bathed it with herbs and bandaged it. Soon it would be able to fly again, hopefully. She knew she couldn't just leave it here, so she picked it up carefully and set it in front of her on the saddle. The sleeping potion would keep working until they got to Edoras, she was sure. To cause it no pain when it awoke, she rode as carefully as she could.

[Nurumaiel]

Firramer was taking his time with his ale, sipping it slowly (and deliberately doing that, as well) and taking long pauses to look about him. Culoth found herself becoming more and more annoyed with him. Did he have to go so slow? Oh yes, of course he did. Because he was trying to tease her. Well, she wouldn't get upset. But it was hard to keep from jumping up and screaming at him.

"I'll be back later," the young woman muttered, getting up. She would explore the inn a little and see who was still there, who wasn't, and who was there who wasn't before. Maybe she could find someone to talk with while Firramer slowly sipped his ale. A little smile appeared on her face. Maybe she could find him an audience.

[Mithadan]

An errand rider entered the White Horse bearing several scrolls. He stared imperiously at the patrons of the Inn as he proceeded to the end of the bar where he tacked one of the scrolls to the wall.

Then he stepped back and proclaimed in a loud voice, "You all may wish to take a look at this, its IMPORTANT!"

The scroll read:

----------------------------------

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE BARROW-DOWNS!

On May 1, 2003, the forums at the Barrow-Downs will reach the ripe old age of THREE! While the site itself is a bit older, the third anniversary of the opening of the forums is a cause to CELEBRATE!!!!! Therefore, we will have a PARTY in celebration of the third birthday (uh, death day?) of the Barrow-Downs forums and all members are invited!!!!!

This year’s party will include the presentation of the first Barrow-Downs Awards, known far and wide as the Downies. The celebration will begin with a red carpet entrance before guests enter the Grand Hall where the ceremonies will take place. Come in costume and in character assuming the proper flourishes and airs of the Barrow-Downs elite and don’t forget to strike a pose before the paparazzi; this may be your 15 minutes of fame. But remember, there may never again be so many Administrators, Moderators and Assistants assembled in one place at the same time again, so while the party will be fun and funny, don’t forget to maintain some slight sense of decorum.

PLACE: The Grand Hall of Minas Anor (the Gondor RPG forum in a thread to be opened there).

TIME: Thursday, May 1, 2003 beginning at 9:00am EDT until????

DRESS: Formal Middle Earth Wear.

There will be an open bar, and meals will served by our polite wait staff.

COME CELEBRATE THE ACHIEVEMENTS OF THE BARROW-WIGHT AND THE BARROW-DOWNS!

RSVP

[DayVampyre]

Avery went over and read the notice that had been hastily tacked to the board.

"Well, I'll raise a pint to that! I wouldn't miss a party like this for the world!"

She said as she bought the tavern another round of drinks.

[Helkahothion]

Anuion and Bordarigorn dragged themselves on. Just a few more miles and than they would have reached it. The sign became clearer in Anuion's eye and as soon as he got a clear look, he ran towards it, followed by the tired down human. They stood in front of the building for a minute, but then Bordarigorn pushed the door open and strampled in. It must have been a funny sight, seeing an elf and a human walking together, leaning on each other, crippled by the long travel, tired from walking and sleeping outside. The found the nearest table and crashed themselves in the chairs. Anuion got up after an hour of rest and smiled towards Bethberry as he was hanging on the bar.

"Hello. My mate and I would like some food and Ale. We don't mind what it is, as long as it contains meat. Is that possible?"

"Sure. Someone will take it to your table."

"Bless you. And thanks a lot. We would like to rent a room later, is that possible?"

"Sure. One room or two rooms?"

"One room please. With separate bed's. Where not that close." Anuion said as he added a wink.

Anuion went back and a quarter after, they had their table loaded up and Bordarigorn started eating. He attacked the food as soon as it was placed on the table. He at very fast and hardly took the time to breath. The goblet with wine soon went after the food and he just sat in the chair, rubbing his stomach, looking supremely satisfied.

Anuion had not followed his example. Many of the guests, must have seen for the first time in their lives that an elf ate almost like a human. But hey, Anuion was travelling with one for a while now, so that was not surprising. He had thought of himself as very normal.

The two sat in their chairs for a couple of minutes but then headed out to the common room. Maybe someone there would have a nice story to brighten up their days. Sure they had stories, but they had experienced the tale and had tolled it a few times. It starts to wear of after that. The found themselves a seat and crashed down, waiting for someone to step out with a nice tale.

[ May 02, 2003: Message edited by: Helkahothion ]

[Elora]

Ronnan remained hunkered down, concealed behind the hedgerow and watching the patrons come and go at the White Horse. There was an interesting array, and the appearance of a green-tinged man was very entertaining to the otherwise dull matter of inspecting the area. Dull, but necessary as experience had proven in times past. He whiled the hours away behind the hedge until such time as his natural inclinations to caution had been satisfied. Caution only got one so far in his usual career and so he uncurled a lithe frame and stood by the empty road.

In a neat swing, he had cleared the hedge and skulked further up the road towards the inn. His ears gathered the sound of voices and laughter, many people who spoke in the raised register of amusement or the lowered one of serious matters. The hour of the day most suitable had arrived. It was the hour that most wanders had sought out ale and a comfortable seat to wind down after their day. It meant the most horses left tethered by the White Horse. It meant reluctance to venture out into the night whilst the fires continued to warm clothings and ale their stomachs. Ronnan also cheerily noted it meant plenty of conversation when he had concluded his business at hand also.

With an easy confidence he wandered through the horses with quick and curious hands that deftly moved across tack and gear. The horses snorted, tails swishing, ears flickering and heads tossing depending on their overall sociability. Here and there Ronnan found valuable tack, but lacking any place to safely stow it reluctantly left it on the horses. After 20 minutes of investigation, he dusted his hands off on his tunic and shook his head. Two days spent outside an inn, behind a hedge, and nothing of immediate worth. Slim pickings indeed, and he had missed the opportunity to sample the congenial hospitality within to learn this.

He swept a fall of dark hair back from his forehead and moved quickly to stop his losses as best he could. That meant stepping inside and enjoying the company of the owners of the gear he had examined. A gem here or there, and small pouches of money held no interest for him. Weapons were difficult to re-sell, particularly the valuable ones as they were invariably distinctively designed and had a reputation that included the rightful owner's name.

Still, he reflected as he walked through the door of the White Horse, he really could not have expected all that much. He had taken to Rohan after appreciating the need to see more countryside than that ably ordered by the law enforcement of Gondor. He was not here to work a job, although a small gain here or there would be nice. He was here on a well earned rest, and it was nice to have a measure of anonymity for a change.

He doffed his cloak, the once blue material now bearing signs of hard travel and hung it by the door. People, Men, Hobbits, Elves sat and stood around the commonroom. He was hardly elegantly garbed as he preferred to be for social occassions, but he would make do. Ronnan made his way to the bar. "Good Innkeep, a tankard of your magnificent ale if you please!" Ronnan flashed a charming smile along with his coin by way of payment and with tankard soon in hand turned to rest his elbows against the bar and survey the room just in case he had missed a Gondor soldier on furlough.

[DayVampyre]

Avery pushed some stray brown hairs out of her eyes and walked over to the bar. A few new strangers had entered into the bar but it was really no never mind to her, the atmosphere was still jovial and she still had some silver in her pocket. Enough for a drink or two more, but not enough for a room. Well, not yet anyway. Passing through the smokey hase and up to the counter, Avery ordered a pint from a harried barkeep. The drink came, the barkeep was off balance and knocked the elbow of a dark haired man. The man turned sharply and looked at the barkeep. His drink hadn't been spilled, but had disturbed the man's revery. The barkeep said sorry and rushed back to work, while the man returned to his former postion. Avery took a drink from her mug.

"Busy night tonight! You seem like a new face to the inn."

Avery said, meaning to distract the man, hopefully long enough to lift a few coins off of him...

[Airerûthiel]

She was astounded to see the inn emptying of patrons in such amounts. Gwigwyn's hooves clicked on the cobbled courtyard as she guided him to the nearby stables. Her dismount was as soft and graceful as a cat, betraying her for the lady she was. She stabled the bay stallion and pulled the hood of her black cloak over her head. "Welcome home," she whispered to herself as she pushed open the door of the inn.

The few that remained in the inn turned in surprise to see a figure clad in the garb of a male warrior crossing the floor. She put some silver down on the bar and threw back her hood. A sheet of wavy dark blonde hair fell to her shoulders, and her turquoise eyes were level with the innkeeper's as she made her order. "A pint of ale, please," she said in a calm, even voice.

"Anything else?" asked Bethberry. She was intrigued by this war-like maiden who bore such an ancient-looking sword about her waist. The girl had a history, it was clear, but what exactly she could not tell. "A meal, perhaps? Or maybe a room?"

The young woman nodded. "Yes, that would be good. I have been travelling in the wilds of Rohan and Gondor for some time, and I am weary of journeying and sleeping outside." She opened a dark brown suede money pouch that she wore on her belt and emptied most of its contents onto the desk. Bethberry swept out the necessary coins and handed the change back to the maid.

The shield-maiden pocketed the change and then sat sipping her drink. With a bit of luck, she would not have to stay in here too long before another adventure walked through the door for her.

[Elora]

Ronnan smiled at Avery, as pleased at having his ale unspilt as he was to be welcomed by a fair maid with a ready smile. "Indeed, I do not often come to such lands as these to my sorrow," came his easy reply. He settled back into his previous lounging stance after performing his customary check of his belonginings. All was where it should be and if word got out that the Prince of Thieves had been pilfered from by a patron in an inn in Rohan, he'd have a lot of trouble on his hands.

"Is it often this busy Lady..." he began and then faltered when he realised he had not her name. "Forgive me, my Lady, I have been remiss. Ronnan I am named and I am pleased to share this inn with you on this eve." With that, Ronnan straightened and executed a snappy and courtly bow for Avery, rakish charm in his every move. He returned to his full height with a smile filled with the expectation of her name, hands resting in his belt where his pouches were.

He was distinctly aware that the young lady whose acquaintance he was hopefully about to make had a definate interest in his pouches. It was at times like these that Ronnan was grateful that he had invested in a tailor to provide him with more secure storage options than a pouch dangling temptingly from a belt. He studied the young woman's face as he waited on her name, committing features to memory just in case she knew the same tailor he knew.

[Nurumaiel]

Culoth frowned and struggled to fight her disappointment, glaring angrily at Firramer, who returned her gaze calmly. "Firramer, I wanted you to tell me a story but now I have to go!" she cried. "You promised me you would."

Firramer sighed and shifted his weight, not letting his eyes stray from Culoth's own. He knew he had disappointed her, but it was his intention. He had been planning on telling her a tale, but she now she had to go back to her home earlier than he had expected. He didn't know what to tell her now. It was no good making excuses. "I'm sorry," he said. "But I promise I'll tell you a tale first thing when I see you again."

"I suppose that will have to do," said Culoth, turning away. "You must think me hopeless, Firramer, being so horribly eager and impatient to hear a story, but I haven't heard one in a long while." She paused, and then with a little smile added, "And you know what type of person I am."

Firramer laughed but didn't reply. He turned his gaze to the door of the inn, looking expectantly and eagerly at it. Culoth happened to glance over her shoulder and saw the expression on his face. He was waiting for something, or someone… someone he couldn't wait to see. "Firramer, who are you waiting for?" she asked.

"Just a friend," he replied, not looking at her. Culoth accepted that explanation and left the inn. Firramer leaned back in his chair, his eyes closing. He could see himself dancing across the floor with a slender girl, her head of red hair resting against his shoulder. The different feelings that shot through him.

She would be here soon. He would wait for her as long as he must. She would come. He had asked her to come. She would come. . .

[Orual]

Rie hopped off of the horse as quickly as her skirts would allow, and shouted for Talômi to up put the gelding in the stable as she ran into the Inn, muttering about how late she was.

Slipping into the White Horse, she stopped by the wall to smoothed her dress down, and check her hair. It made her blush to think of what she was doing, but it didn't stop her from brushing the dust off of her hem.

Looking around the common room, she fingered her necklace, searching for the young Rohirric man who she had danced with at the Downies. Finally, just as Talômi had returned from the stables, she spotted him and walked over to his table.

"I'm so sorry I'm late, Firramer," she said. "Talômi and I lost our path on the way here. I didn't mean to keep you waiting."

[DayVampyre]

Avery smiled at this dashing introduction as she rested an elbow on the bar. He sat down and seemed to make a rapid check of his belt.

"It isn't often that I am referred to as a Lady," Avery said, taking a drink "More often, good sir, it's, give me a minute, it's thief or I believe street rat has been used."

Ronnan laughed "You hardly bear the features of a rat"

"Thank you very much good sir. I, however, prefer to be called Avery." She said smiling.

This stranger interested her, much more than the money that he no doubt was carrying on his person...

[Nurumaiel]

"That's quite all right," Firramer laughed. "Nuru should be along shortly. She promised me she would come, and she said she was bringing a friend."

"Oh, did she?" said Rie with an amused smile. "Have you any idea who this friend is?"

Firramer laughed. "Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. I know who it is. We've going adventuring across Rohan many times before." Memories of swords flashing in the sunlight and the sound of horses hooves thudding as they galloped across the plains came to him and he smiled. Then he remembered a laughing, golden-haired maiden, riding her horse and smiling at him, and he turned away so Rie and Talômi wouldn't see the tears that sprang unbidden to his eyes.

"Firramer, are you all right?" Rie asked, for she was very observant and saw the look that passed across his face.

"Yes, I am," he replied, his voice sounding hoarse. "When Nuru and the other arrive, I'll tell you a little story."

Talômi and Rie were most enthusiastic about this idea, and became a bit impatient for Nuru and the 'other,' as Firramer referred to him, to arrive. Neither of them could deny that they enjoyed a good tale now and then, and from what they had heard from Nuru, Firramer was a master of that art.

The door opened and a little cold breeze passed through the room. Nuru hurried forward and gave Rie, Talômi, and Firramer in turn greeting hugs. "Now, you two," she said with a nod at Rie and Talômi, "this is who I wanted you to meet." She beckoned to the figure still standing in the doorway and he stepped forward, closing the door gently behind him. "Eohsecg," she said, and nothing more.

"I'm pleased to meet you both," he said with a little bow, and smiled widely at Firramer. "Hello, old friend."

"The last time I saw you was when you were just a little boy and I was chosen as your instructor on the art of swords," said Firramer, embracing the man.

"Yes, I well remember those times," Eohsecg replied with a laugh. "I'm now 23 years of age." He turned to the two redheads standing beside him. "But I am rude to you," he said. "I have already given myself a proper introduction, but it is not considered polite to ignore you now."

"Talômi," said the man, with a little nod. "And I am also pleased to meet you."

"Rie," said she, deciding not to bother with giving her full name. Nobody ever called her by her full name anyway. "And please don't think yourself rude. Talômi and myself would never dream of coming between the reunion of two old friends."

"M'lady," said Eohsecg, color coming to his cheeks. He took her hand and lifted it, kissing it gently. "I am pleased to meet you." Rie also blushed. He smiled warmly at her. "Now, Firramer, I propose that I get drinks for us all so we may speak lightly together and become great friends." He quickly counted them. "Five of us." He laughed. "I shall then need some assistance in bringing the drinks back to our little table. Would any of you be so kind as to help me with that small task?"

[Elora]

"Well met, Lady Avery... well met," Ronnan mused as he settled back once more. Street rat, eh? Well certainly she did not have the pinched and half-starved look of the many street rats he knew of, but then appearances could be misleading as he well knew. Certainly she had a ready enough smile for him and Ronnan decided he'd fish a little further. Information was the lifeblood of a good thief's profession.

"Is it your habit to grace such places as this often, Lady Avery? I confess that I am a newcomer to this part of the land. I would not have been so remiss in my acquaintance with Rohan had I known that it was enhanced by such fairness as I find here."

He smiled kindly at Avery to press his point and hopefully further soften his question. So intent was he on the young lady that he missed the movement through the door of a tall, blonde Elf woman. Delicate gold shimmered around her face as her hair swung with her movement and emerald eyes flashed as she took in the room. She scanned from just inside the door and quickly they came to rest upon a dark haired Elf that stood chatting sociably at the bar with an ale in his nimble fingered hands.

Her lips curved into a smile that if seen by Ronnan would be far from settling. She smoothed the green velvet of her skirts over her hips and remained as she was. Whilst Ronnan was engaged at the bar she was happy to wait. She had not trailed him across the leagues between Belfalas and Rohan to ruin it all in an overeager springing of her snare. Besides, she was loathe to create a spectacle. It was difficult for an Elf to travel unnoticed through mortal lands, particularly a woman travelling alone which was all but unheard of amongst her kindred. But Naiore was not in herself a usual Elven woman. As with many of her kindred descended from the House of Finarfin, usual was the last word applied in description of her. She calmly folded her hands at her waist and watched patiently, taking the room and those within it at her leisure. If Ronnan had sold his recently acquired belongings, it would be some time before it was safe for her to venture into an inn such as this. The inns she would be relegated to for a time when wanted for the henious crime of murder were never so pleasant in her experience as this one was. Ronnan unconcernedly conversed, clad in his ineffable charm and watched by a most formidible observer.

[Helkahothion]

Anuion nodged the sleeping Bordarigorn. The man woke up and saw a standing Anuion who was rolling up his sleeves.

"What the hell are you going to do?"

"I set a table skywards with nicked fireworks. So now I have to wash some dishes as a punishment. To repay for the big hole in the roof."

"You always have been a crasy idiot. Need me to help. Ill bet you will be washing dishes very long untill you have payed that thing off."

"Nah, I have payed for the roof already. You know I'm not poor. But those poor little Hobbits look as if they are going to die in there. So I will just lend them a hand if you don't mind."

"Always helping people out eh? Ahw well, I will help to. Since you waked me, there is not much I can do now."

"The two walked to the kitchen and on their way they passed Bêthberry who was not there since she was away. They entered the kitchen and started scrubbing pans, while having a laugh with the Hobbits. Never knew kishwashing could be such fun!

[Orual]

"I'll help you," Talômi offered. A touch too quickly, perhaps. Rie's cheeks were still flushed, and she was looking at the handsome young man's eyes a little too closely for Talômi's comfort. He suppressed a laugh at his own thought of Eohsecg as a 'young man', when the man had three years on Talômi.

The redhead walked with Eohsecg to the counter, standing behind as he ordered the five drinks. I'm being stupid, he thought fiercely. I should be bigger than this. Rie's old enough to make her own decisions. I'm going to be friendly if it kills me! He put a smile on his face just as Eohsecg turned around. He took three of the drinks, balancing them carefully the way his mother had taught him--with only two girls in a house of eight people, the boys had been put to work in the kitchen every bit as much as the girls. He grinned for true as Eohsecg nodded approvingly at the Talômi's balancing act, precarious though it may have been.

He continued to smile as they walked back to the table. "So Firramer taught you swordfighting?" Talômi asked, trying to make conversation. "Are you a soldier?"

[Nurumaiel]

A quick nod from Eohsecg told Talômi that he had been right. "Well, that is to say, I'm a scout," said the man of Rohan. "Mostly I'm just sent to scout the land, but there is occasionally the need for a sword."

"Is it dangerous?" Rie asked. "I mean scouting."

Eohsecg turned his blue eyes to her and smiled. "It does depend, m'lady," he said. "Most days everything is quiet, but there are some days when bandits and thieves roam about, and then it may become dangerous, if they have skill with weapons." He laughed. "Most of them take one look at my sword and run."

"I suppose what you mean by that is that they fear a sword, not your sword specifically," said Rie with a mischievous grin.

The four of them laughed at this clever remark. Eohsecg raised his glass. "I propose a toast to the health of our dear Nurumaiel, Talômi of the Rangers, and the fairest of fair maidens, Rie." And then he looked straight into her eyes and smiled again.

[Airerûthiel]

Although Neisa had never been one to make conversation with others that was not completely necessary, she nonetheless could not help feeling a brief pang of jealousy as she watched the group in the corner toasting one another's health. It was at times like these that she missed her brother, although it was partially his fault that she had ended up like this. Why couldn't he have been a little more ambitious? The adventures and quests they could have undertake together as twins played in her head every night when she went to sleep, cascading through her mind in torturous dreams.

She supposed she should be grateful to him - after all, if it wasn't for him, she would not possess half of her skills. But he aspired to so little in life! All he wanted was to marry a peasant girl and settle down to a farmer's life. She sniffed a little. Whoever heard of a rich farmer?! He would get all their father's money when the old cavalryman died, but it would do nought but sit in his house and gather dust for years.

Her father...she remembered the kindly old gentleman's face as it drifted before her eyes. He loved his family more than life itself, and her mother's sudden death had almost killed him instantly. Sometimes Neisa almost wished it had; anything was better than coming home and watching him slowly waste away to nothing. It broke her heart to see his condition deteriorate so rapidly. She would give anything for him to go back to the way he used to be before her mother died.

And here she was, moping about her life, drinking ale, trying to find a way out of the drudgery of her existence. She sighed heavily, stood up and walked over to the table where the merry-makers were sat. A smile was fixed onto her face, and she was determined to make everything in her world at least seem all right, even though in her heart she knew she could not change it.

[Nurumaiel]

Firramer was a kindly man and when he saw the young woman approaching he prepared to welcome her. Her face was smiling but he could see in her eyes a sadness and a fear of being turned away.

"Greetings!" he said with a friendly smile, and giving a little bow out of courtesy. "Will you be so kind as to join our table, m'lady?"

[Airerûthiel]

Neisa was taken aback by such a show of kindness between perfect strangers. Then the wasted etiquette lessons kicked in, and she dropped a small curtsey obediently. "Thank you, kind sir," she said. Keep smiling, keep smiling... "It would be an honour to join such folk as yourselves." She sat down at the table and scanned the curious eyes of the rest.

"I must give thanks to you all for being so hospitable and friendly towards me," she said. Make them like you. She tried to shut out her mother's voice. "Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Neisa, and I come from Edoras. Now, seeing as I have told you my name, perhaps you would all be so kind as to tell me yours?"

[ May 09, 2003: Message edited by: Airerûthiel ]

[Nurumaiel]

"Firramer of Rohan, lady," said he with a kindly smile. Pointing to each of the companions in turn, he introduced them. "Nurumaiel of the Elves of Rivendell, Talômi and Rie of the Rangers, and Eohsecg of Rohan."

Eohsecg stood up from where he was sitting to Rie and gave a little bow before sitting back down again. "M'lady, I beg your pardon, but have we met before?" Neisa looked a little bewildered and slowly shook her head. "Ah, I suppose we have not. However, your face looks familiar. I have often been to Edoras, so perhaps I have seen you wanderering about there?"

Nurumaiel spoke up as Eohsecg turned to Rie to ask her if she liked her drink. Firramer smiled a little at the foolish question, but he could see exactly what Eohsecg's feelings for Rie were, though they had only known each other for a short time.

"Neisa, would you like a drink?" Nuru asked. At the woman's, "Yes, thank you," the Elf hurried to the counter to order one.

Firramer raised his glass again and said, "And a toast to fair Neisa of Edoras who has so graced our table with her presence."

[GaladrieloftheOlden]

Herlion slid open the door of the inn. The sign swaying over his head told him that it was called The White Horse, and that it was owned by a woman called Bethberry. It was rather cold outside, so Herlion, noticing the disapproving looks the guests nearer to the door were giving him, closed it hastily, keeping the wind from slamming it shut.

He edged quickly around the room, moved towards the bar, keeping as close to the walls as possible without walking into anything or anybody. Finally, coming to the bar, he ordered a beer and sat down quietly in a corner, cushioning his bench with his cloak, and hoping that there was somebody with a good story to tell near him, for Herlion loved listning to good stories, whether true or old adventures of legend, of which nobody knew how much was truth and how much fancy of the teller.

[ May 11, 2003: Message edited by: GaladrieloftheOlden ]

[Airerûthiel]

Neisa sipped her drink idly and half-listened to the group's conversation. Already she felt she liked these people, despite not knowing so much about them. From the corner of her eye she could see someone new had walked into the inn, someone with the look of a lover of tales in his eyes. She debated talking to him, but he seemed to prefer his own company for some reason. Eventually she decided to ask Firramer something that had been preying on her mind for a considerable time.

"Forgive me for my asking this," she said, twisting a strand of her dark blonde wavy hair around her finger, "but why are such a strangely mixed group as yourselves wandering this Middle-earth together? Long years have passed since Elves, Rangers and Men of Rohan walked together as a band of friends."

[Nurumaiel]

Firramer took a few moments thinking on how to make a long story short. "Well, m'lady, Nurumaiel here once travelled many years ago from Rivendell to Lothlorien through the Gap of Rohan, and there we met her after challenging her." He stopped and laughed. "We were very young, you see, myself and the other riders who accompanied me.

"These two redheads," he said with a grin, "were introduced to me by Nuru at the Barrow-Downs birthday party."

Nurumaiel spoke up. "Please, Neisa, tell us a little about yourself. How old are you? Where is your family?"

[GaladrieloftheOlden]

Herlion pushed dark bangs from his face impatiently, wishing that somebody would talk to him... he felt like an outsider in here, he did not live here, he had never been here. He had his beer, of course, and not his first, but he was beginning to feel as though he had consumed a bit too much alcohol in one day. Finally, slumping down onto the bench, half sitting, half lying, he fell asleep.

Herlion woke to find himself on the floor and under the table. Feeling utterly humiliated, though he didn’t know if anybody had seen him fall, he came back out, running one hand through his hair and straightening his clothes with the other. Deciding not to have any more drinks today, Herlion dropped outside for a quick breath of air, but came back in quickly, his stained cloak being not enough protection from the cold. He stamped his feet a bit to warm up again, and sat back down, still feeling like he was being ignored by these... he hesitated to call them people, as they were certainly not all human, but perhaps... these others. Foreigners, maybe. He didn’t see anyone who looked like they came from the South of Rohan, like him, but, then again, he could only see a few people, and could hear that the othe side of the bar was noisy and very much full.

[ May 15, 2003: Message edited by: GaladrieloftheOlden ]

[Airerûthiel]

Neisa pondered how to answer Nurumaiel's question. Her family relationship was complex to say the least. She decided to say as little as possible. Best to get it over and done with. Besides, she was intrigued by the gentleman crawling out from underneath a nearby table after what seemed like one too many ales. But she could not abandon her new friends so soon after meeting with them.

"To make a long tale short," she said, "I was born in Edoras twenty winters ago. My father and younger twin brother live in a house like those of the richer Rohirrim in the hills close to Meduseld."

"What about your mother?" asked Nuru. "Where is she?"

"Dead." There was more than a trace of sorrow in Neisa's voice as she wiped her glazed-over eyes. "I am guilty for thinking this, but there is no part of me that misses her in the slightest. She always tried to make my personality like my brother's, and his like mine.

"He wants nothing more than to marry a peasant girl and settle down to a farmer's life somewhere in the Green Hill Country. But I have spent my life seeking adventure, and I am currently trying to get away from my father's house. The old cavalryman has fallen into a state of grief after my mother's passing, and his position in the riders of the Mark has been given to my brother, who is ill-suited to such.

"But if you will excuse me for a moment, I see someone who looks like a fellow lone wanderer. I hope you can understand my reasons for sympathising with him. Would there be any objections if I were to invite him to join us?"

There was none, and she rose and walked over to the bar. Her footsteps echoed as she made her way across the flagged floor. Soon she reached the young gentleman. He was sitting alone at a table on the other side of the bar. She came up behind him, careful to make as little noise as possible. He turned round just as she arrived beside him.

"Forgive my asking," she said to him, "but my companions and I could not help noticing you were alone and in need of company. Would you care to join us at our table?" She offered a weather-beaten hand out to him. "My name is Neisa, and I come from Edoras. Would you be so kind as to tell me what they call you?"

[GaladrieloftheOlden]

Herlion still sat slumped at the bar, staring down at the countertop, wondering what the best way to fall asleep would be, when he was startled out of his rather pessimistic thoughts about hangovers by a female voice. "Forgive my asking," it said softly, "but my companions and I could not help noticing you were alone and in need of company. Would you care to join us at our table? My name is Neisa, and I come from Edoras. Would you be so kind as to tell me what they call you?"

For a moment Herlion was a bit rattled at the idea of somebody speaking to him, and he turned what must have been a wonderful deep shade of red, then answered,: "I... my name is Herlion, Lady Neisa, and I came here also from Rohan. I live rather far from Edoras, though I come there often, but I have never seen you before. And I would love to join you and your companions, as I have been bored nearly out of my wits, and until now have been resorting to alcohol, which is never a wise idea."

[ May 15, 2003: Message edited by: GaladrieloftheOlden ]

[Airerûthiel]

Neisa gave a small smile - the first genuine expression that had been seen on her face all day. Already she liked Herlion, although she did not know him too well. "Come with me to meet my friends," she said. "I am sure they will make you as welcome as they made me. To drink alone is disheartening, to drink with others is companionable, and a drink and a tale is ten times better, as my father used to say."

She ordered another jug of ale from a passing serving girl, and asked for it to be brought to their table. Then she and Herlion walked back to where the others were seated. He did not say much, but she had seen the look of a tale-teller in his eyes. No doubt he had many stories to tell when he got going.

The rest of the group were deep in conversation as Neisa and Herlion returned. The pair took seats on the bench and Neisa made the introductions. "Firramer and Eohsecg of Rohan, Nurumaiel of the Rivendell Elves, and Talômi and Rie of the Rangers. This is Herlion of Rohan. I trust there are no objections to his joining our table?"

There was none, only a chorus of greetings and questions. Neisa took the jug of ale from the serving girl and began to pour the drink into flagons. "So, Herlion," she said, "please tell us more about yourself."

[Nurumaiel]

Eohsecg greeted Herlion by standing up and giving a little bow, then he sat back down next to Rie. Neisa and Herlion were speaking, but Eohsecg wasn't listening. His eyes were fixed on Rie, who didn't seem to be listening, either. Instead she looked to be deep in thought, her chin resting in her hands, a single strand of her bright red hair falling in her face. Eohsecg stretched out his hand. "Excuse me, m'lady, but there is some hair..." He brushed it away and she looked up at him, startled. "Your pardon," he said with a smile. "I thought it might be bothering you. It was an excuse. He had wanted to touch her face, which didn't seem to be real, so smooth and fair.

"Oh, thank you," said Rie, looking at him with a queer expression on her face. She was uncertain. What could she say? She couldn't deny that when his hand had touched her face she had felt odd inside. Why did he keep looking at her like he was? She averted her eyes to look out the window at the clear sky of Rohan.

Eohsecg was also confused. He felt as he had never felt before. A strange feeling that was undescribable. But he felt it in this maid's presence, and it was even stronger when he looked at her, something he hadn't been able to stop doing. To hide this confusement he asked, "What were you thinking about, m'lady?"

[Orual]

Rie startled when Eohsecg brushed the lock of hair away from her face. The way he looked at her...no one had ever looked at her that way before. It made a blush rise in her cheeks--not that that was a really uncommon occurance--and it gave her a queer twist in her stomach. Talômi didn't seem happy about it, though. He glowered at Eohsecg, though he pasted a smile on his face whenever the young man looked his way.

"What were you thinking about, m'lady?" Eohsecg asked.

"Oh," Rie said, "nothing, really. Just the last few days...or the last couple of weeks, I guess. You see, I ran away from home a few months ago--I think it's seven months, now--and it's just now that Talômi and I are back together. It's been quite a month." That was a lie. She had been thinking about the way he was looking at her, about the strange look in his blue eyes, about the way his blonde hair fell into his face. She took a breath and pushed her hair out of her face again, unconsciously.

[Nurumaiel]

"It does sound like quite an adventure," said Eohsecg with a soft smile. He continued to gaze at her in silence, unaware of Talômi's smouldering glare on his back. He only saw Rie, her fair face topped with red hair. She looked uncomfortable, unsure, confused. He felt the same: unsure. What should he say? What should he do? Should he say something to her? He tried to turn his face away so she couldn't see the confusion clearly written on it, but he couldn't. All he could do was keep gazing into her clear eyes.

A long silence followed. Nuru was listening to Neisa and Herlion, but Talômi and Firramer both saw all that was going on between Eohsecg and Rie. Talômi saw Rie's feelings, and Firramer saw Eohsecg's. Firramer knew what the young man's feelings were. After all, he thought, Rie is a beautiful and charming girl.

Eohsecg spoke, unaware of what he was saying, and even more unaware that he was saying it in front of the whole common room. Only Talômi, Firramer, and Rie heard, though, for his voice was a murmur, unable to grow any louder. "Rie, has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?"

[Orual]

Rie's green eyes widened at Eohsecg's question. Beautiful? Unconsciously she touched her face. She had never thought of herself as beautiful. She would have loved to have a long, elegant nose like her mother, or her elder brother Alanai's large, slightly tilted eyes, or maybe to have had a face without the light freckles that were scattered around the bridge of her nose--not too many people noticed those, but Rie was always aware of them. Beautiful? Her?

While all of these thoughts were passing through her mind, the only thing that came out of her mouth was "No, not other than my parents and brothers." She blushed. That wasn't the right thing to say!

***

Talômi's eyes widened as well, but not for the same reason. What arrogance! The boy--suddenly Eohsecg was no longer a young man, but a boy, even with his seniority to Talômi--had only met Rie today, and suddenly he was calling her beautiful! Not to say she wasn't, of course, but...but...he had no right!

A small voice in the back of his head asked, why not? He would have told a pretty girl that she was attractive. He had, on occasion. Why was it different with his sister?

Either way, this was Rie's fight. He would protect her if it came to that, but he had to wait it out. Rie said, "No, not other than my parents and brother," and he sat heavily back in his seat and crossed his arms, glaring daggers at Eohsecg. The ball was in his court now.

[Nurumaiel]

Eohsecg felt himself blushing. What had he just said? That was the kind of thing you thought, not the kind of thing you said to a young woman a few minutes after you had met her, whether it was true or not. He had to look away from Rie. He knew Talômi was glaring at him, he knew everyone around the table was watching him. But he couldn't take his eyes off her.

Firramer saw the young man's uncomfortable situation and came to the rescue quickly. "I agree, lady," he said. "You are very beautiful." Rie blushed again. "After all, nobody around the table could deny the fact, could they?" Nobody protested to this. "Eohsecg, I haven't seen you in awhile. Tell me what you've been doing recently."

Shooting a grateful look at Firramer, Eohsecg told him a series of small little tales of no importance, promising himself he wouldn't be so outspoken in the future and that he would make sure to get onto Talômi's good side later that evening.

[Elora]

Naiore watched as the conversation her subject was holding at the bar wound to a natural close. The Prince of Thieves was well warmed by the ale in his hand and looked to be enjoying himself in this mortal land with his mortal drink of choice. Avery had quickly seen through his dazzling charm to think twice about prolonging any further chatter. The polite distraction of conversation was one thing, the company of a known thief was quite another. Naiore smiled indulgently as Ronnan turned back to order another ale, relaxed and quite at ease which is exactly the moment she had been waiting for. There was a score to be settled and the Prince of Thieves had been unwise enough to accrue a debt, of sorts, to none other than herself.

With the memories of the response she had encountered at the Thieves Guild of Dol Amroth playing through her mind, alarmed faces and earnestly offered apologies offered when they realised exactly who and what she was still clear within her mind, Naiore smoothed the folds of velvet at her hips and proceeded to glid effortlessly on light feet through the tables. She approached Ronnan as he had just set down payment for his second ale, a serene smile lighting her elven features and a knowing glint of anticipation in emerald eyes.

"How curious that we should both share a love of Rohan, Ronnan," she murmured in a voice that all but purred. Ronnan's spine stiffened involuntarily at the sound of her low, musical voice that floated on the air. He slowly turned to confirm what his mind was screaming at him. Indeed, none other than Naiore Dannan stood resplesdant as always before him. He had thought himself safe, comparatively speaking, and obviously he was incorrect in his assessment of matters. Certainly, her smile was far from safe. "Lady!"

His voice had a distinctly squeaky sound that he loathed at once. Naiore's smile only widened elegantly. "Will you not introduce me to your lovely companion?" Ronnan glanced at Avery somewhat wretchedly. "Lady Avery, may I introduce you to the Lady Naiore of....," he broke off uncertainly. Naiore smoothly finished for him without hesitation, "Belfalas. Mae Govannan Lady Avery. It would seem that Ronnan has a growing appreciation for the wonders of ale if he finds my home so difficult to recall."

Ronnan silenced a protest, knowing full well that to disclose his dissembling over Naiore's origins would only cast more suspicion over himself and he had enough trouble as it was. Instead, he made do with the semblance of proprietry. "Would you care for a drink, Lady Naiore? Doubtless you have travelled far." Naiore heard him grasp for information on the manner of her arrival. "Indeed I have and would. One does not travel at speed through day and night without acquiring the need for refreshment."

Ronnan would have groaned to hear that Naiore had gone to such lengths to track him down if it would have helped him and Naiore knew it. He turned back to the bar and ordered a glass of wine, knowing full well what manner of refreshement she would require. "Have you enlivened this establishment long, Ronnan," Naiore asked as she relieved him of the goblet he presented to her.

"No, I have not had that fortune," he replied glumly. "Well perhaps later you will." Ronnan would have liked to ask how much later, but she forestalled him by raising her goblet to her lips and delicately sipping the ruby wine. "Rohan is a land filled with wonder. Such is how I have ever found it." Ronnan hid his self-recriminatory grimace in his ale. Rohan, which had seemed so very safe and distant from his usual haunts, was also the well known realm of visitation by one of the many he was hoping avoid. Somehow, his optimistic nature had lead him to believe that Naiore Dannan had much more important things to do than pursue a thief.

"Perhaps we could find a table," Naiore prompted. Avery seemed reluctant to join the pair, discerning the risky tenor to their conversation thus far and wisely deciding to not throw herself in it's midst until she could be sure which side was one she wished to throw her lot in with. It would be a difficult decision to make when the choices were the Prince of Thieves and the Terror of Mordor. Neither one was particularly trustworthy. Ronnan duly held Naiore's chair out for her and sank into his own when she had lithely folded herself into it.

"I know why you're here," he opened before she could in the hopes of maintaining some control over the direction of the conversation. Naiore arched a mocking brow in his direction. "Then I am surprised you sit with me at this table if you indeed know the nature of my intentions." So smoothly spoken, the words still held a chill which carried clearly. "I can return it. I still have it." Naiore set down her glass on the table and laughed. It was a clear, musical sound and it unnerved Ronnan more than anything else she could possibly say or do. "That comes as no surprise, Prince of Thieves," she replied with cutting sarcasm placed on his title. "There are few who would dare take up possession of what you presently have."

Ronnan sighed disconsolately for Naiore was right. He had tried to offload the items in question more than once. The Guild at Dol Amroth had stared aghast at his bounty and simply vacated the room at great haste. Yet at the time of his ill-considered theft, it had seemed so perfect a mark to lift. Beautifully worked in an art lost now to Elves and Men and Dwarves, incalculable value. The mithril swan was carved with breathtaking artistic vision, each feather intricately articulated, the graceful sweep of its neck. Tiny black diamonds glittered for the eyes. The beak was carved from ebony. The feathers were inlaid with a pearl that seemed to glow with a hidden light. The feet were amber. It was an extraordinary piece of scuplture.

It also happened to be well documented as one the belongings of Naiore Dannan, for whom the swan had been commissioned and inspired by. The ill-fated suitor who had tendered it for her consideration was somewhat well known. Naiore had never been clearly linked with his unfortunate and untimely death but neither had she deigned to deny it and the Swan became a mysterious artefact. In truth, Ronnan had thought Naiore would not particularly care for its continued existence in her possession. Afterall, she was in no need of wealth and it came from a suitor that rumour had so displeased her that she had caused his death. Yet there she was, sitting across the table from him and watching the same way a hunting cat of Rhun watched its prey.

"When would you like it back," he asked. Naiore took her time, savouring the wine before offering a reply and enjoying the thief's discomfort. "As soon as can be arranged. I will need time to set things into place. One does not simply rent a chamber in which to extract repentance freely in Rohan." Ronnan blanched at her bald statement. "Repentance," he repeated in the hope she was jesting or his hearing was flawed, the likelihood of either remote given her nature and his excellent hearing. Naiore blinked in surprise herself.

"Yes, for it shall not be said that a thief be he Prince of Thieves or otherwise can intrude into my private chambers and remove items of his selection at will. A lady's chambers are inviolate and such an act cannot go unpunished." Naiore seemed taken aback at his ignorance of such simple matters of propriety and courtesy. Ronnan was surprised at her committment to such social mores givn her occupation.

He laughed in disbelief at her explanation. "You would punish me for transgressions of chivalry?" Naiore favoured him with an expression that implied that her estimation of his intelligence was over generous and elaborated further. "There is never reason to allow one's manners to slip no matter what cause one pursues." Ronnan sat back in his chair at that, unsure of how to argue that an Elf whose "cause" included some of the most depraved examples of life within Arda had no need to be concerned about manners and instead gave himself over to manufacturing a way to elude the Terror of Mordor.

Naiore deemed the conversation concluded and enjoyed her wine. The great shame of it, Ronnan thought, that were she not who she was she would make a most charming companion. Certainly, between her fair form, quick wit and considerable abilities she would make one ally Ronnan would most definately wish to call his own and most definately an enemy he would avoid at all costs even if it meant an ungracious departure of his own. Being a thief at times called for such things.

[Nurumaiel]

Day had slowly sunk into night at The White Horse, and tension was growing around the table of the Elf, men of Rohan, and Rangers. Talômi shot daggers at Eohsecg with his eyes whenever the young man glanced at Rie or Talômi himself. Nurumaiel had retreated to the counter to get a drink, whispering in joking voice to Firramer that she wasn't used to mortal's foolish behavior, but her eyes showed some concern. Firramer himself was trying to think of something to say to get Eohsecg out of the trouble he was in. Talômi was occupying himself with glaring at Eohsecg, and Rie was blushing and feeling very uncomfortable.

"I'm ordering a room for the night," said Eohsecg hesitantly. He ventured to look at Talômi, who glared back furiously. "I'll see you all in the morning, and tommorrow I would like to start afresh with Talômi." He retreated hastily to the counter to order his room.

"Rie, why don't you go to Nuru and get a room?" Firramer asked kindly. "I'm sure she wouldn't mind sharing a room with you. Talômi and I can share one. Eohsecg just needs to have some time to himself. He's a bit confused." Firramer waited until Rie had departed with Nuru, and Eohsecg was safely gone, then he looked at Talômi and spoke gently. "Why don't you tell me all about it? I've often been told I'm a good listener and can be a great comfort to those who are confused or upset. I understand how you must feel, but I also understand Eohsecg... perfectly." A look of pain passed over his face, but it disappeared so quickly that Talômi wasn't sure he had actually seen it. "I won't laugh," said Firramer seriously, "and I'll do my best to listen patiently to you and straighten things out a little tomorrow without interfering too much."

[Orual]

Talômi sat with his arms folded as Rie stood up from the table. When he followed suit, she leaned over to him and whispered fiercely, "I will talk to you later." The redheaded young man started to protest, but a glare and a warning shake of a finger from his sister silenced him.

"Rie, I--" he tried again, but her furious eyes brooked no discussion. He sighed and hung back while Rie and Nuru left for their room.

Once everyone was gone, Firramer turned to Talômi. "Why don't you tell me all about it?" he asked gently. "I've often been told I'm a good listener and can be a great comfort to those who are confused or upset. I understand how you must feel, but I also understand Eohsecg...perfectly. I won't laugh, and I'll do my best to listen patiently to you and straighten things out a little tomorrow without interfering too much."

Talômi started to say something, but the look of patience in Firramer's eyes somehow stopped him as short as Rie's fury ever had. He heaved a deep sigh and sat back down heavily.

"I just got her back," he said without preamble. "Seven months I was missing her, and I just got her back now. She and I were never apart. Never! I was her shadow. Where Rie went, there I was. Only at night-time were we ever apart, and that only started once we turned seven. She got her own room then, because she was the only girl. I had to move in with my younger brothers until...but that's beside the point." He scrubbed a hand through his hair in frustration. "I don't want to lose her now. I know the looks that Eohsecg is giving her--I recognize them--and I know where it's going to lead, because I see the looks on her face, too. I'm no good at thinking like a woman--what man is?--but I think that as women see it, Eohsecg is a nice-looking man, and chivalrous to boot. What's a twin brother got against that?" He laughed, but there was no joy in it. "He's a soldier, or a scout, or whatever. Women seem to really go for a man who's seen battle."

"I understand that you're a Ranger, though, are you not?" Firramer said. Talômi laughed again.

"I had barely begun true training when Rie left. I didn't wait long to follow her. I would accompany my father whenever he left, him and my older brothers, but I can't say that I ever actually participated in battle. I've got a couple of cuts, but nothing, I'm sure, on what honorable war wounds Eohsecg could show." His voice had grown steadily bitter, and, to his embarrassment, sulkier. He flushed, and began tracing the table with his finger. "I suppose you think I'm being stupid," he muttered, not lifting his head. "And I guess I am. But that's all there is to it." He looked up hesitantly, waiting to see what Firramer would say.

[Nurumaiel]

Firramer listened patiently, quietly, letting Talômi have his say. He realized it must be a relief to the young man. Finally the Ranger stopped and looked at him, almost defiant, waiting for a scolding. Firramer spoke gently. "I understand," he said. "It is hard to lose someone that dear to you. But you must realize that she won't be gone for a long while. And maybe even longer. Just because she and Eohsecg are quite taken with each other doesn't mean it will last forever, though it may." He stopped, and seemed to consider, then spoke again. "And, Talômi, you're not really losing her."

"What do you mean?" Talômi asked, startled. "If she went off with Eohsecg then of course I'd be losing her."

"I would have thought the same thing if it hadn't been for something that happened to me many years back, before I met Nurumaiel, before I met - " He stopped. "No, you wouldn't know who they were." He hesitated for a moment, then plunged on desperately, like he wanted to get it out as fast as he could.

"Many years ago when I was just a young lad I happened to go to an inn much like this one after a long ride. I was weary and hungry. The first thing I saw was a beautiful golden-haired lass with sparkling blue eyes behind the counter, laughing with delight at the music a wandering bard was playing. I couldn't help it: I fell completely in love with her.

"I approached her and asked for a meal. She gave me the sweetest smile I had ever seen in my life and went right away to get me something. She told me in a kindly voice that though she would be thrown out if she were caught, she wasn't going to make me pay a coin, and then she sat down on the counter to watch me. She appeared curious, and at last she admitted that she had never seen one so young in the service of the King. I told her I was twenty-one years of age, but she insisted that that was young, or at least all of the other Rohirrim she had seen at the inn were very old.

"We talked together for long, and at last I went to the room she got me, again for nothing. I told her that might be a little too much to do, and she laughed lightly and said, of course, she would pay for it.

"I never left the inn. I stayed there where I could be nearer to her, and at last she and I went to my home where we were to be wed." He stopped and looked at Talômi, and the Ranger was surprised to see tears in the man's eyes. "You think it might be a happy ending, but it wasn't.

"The day before we were to be wed, we went out riding together, just her and I, to a cliffside, where we could look over fair Rohan, thinking that soon it would be the two of us, together for all time. But then the unexpected happened, the terrible, the horrible..." He paused, and his hands gripped the table. "Her horse slipped as we were riding along the cliff edge, and fell with her still riding. I galloped down and took up her broken body in my arms. She was still alive, though just barely. She didn't say anything aloud, but she just looked into my eyes for what seemed like hours, then she breathed, 'It would have been beautiful. Remember me.'" He stopped once again, the tears now running freely down his face. "Then she died."

Talômi didn't know what to say. He just sat there as Firramer stood up and lay a hand on his shoulder. "So, you see, lad, you're not losing her. Not really. But I understand." Then he went up the stairs, leaving Talômi alone.

[Airerûthiel]

Neisa had not been able to avoid observing the interactions between the trio of Talômi, Rie and Eohsecg. Her sharp ears had also picked up on Firramer's tale, and she sympathised greatly with him. She knew how he had felt. A sudden pang of sorrow of sorrow stabbed into her heart for an instant, and then died again. It was all she could do not to burst into tears. Maybe that had been why she understood how her friend Torfithien felt, although the Lórien Elf did not know the daughter of Rohan's true past.

She gazed down at her hands. The bloodstains were spreading, running through her fingers like a ruby river. Her heart beat faster and faster as she desperately tried to wipe away the evidence of what she had done. She noticed a few other patrons were giving her strange looks, and panic quickly set in. If only she could turn back time, to when everything was all right, to when Gwannyn was still alive.

It had been her fault he was killed. She had been determined to go off to the battle with the wild Men of the north, and had done everything possible to get among the ranks - cut off her hair, stolen armour from her father, the lot - and yet he had discovered her in the camp. The whispered argument they'd had that night still rang in her mind, sending a shiver down her spine as she remembered the last words he said to her:

"This is not your place. Go back to Edoras. You will be safe there. I will return to the city to claim you as my bride as soon as this fight is over." He kissed her on the forehead, wrapped her in a tight, brief but warm embrace, and walked away into the darkness for ever.

And she had just stood there and watched him go, instead of running after him. She had been weak. He had died because she had not resisted his words. Her wounded heart broke once again, and she could not help feeling more than a little jealous of Rie. It was not that she had any affection for Eohsecg other than as a friend; it was the fact that the Ranger was receiving something that the maid of Rohan had not felt for a long three years.

She sighed heavily, drained the last of her ale and made her way up the stairs to her bed. But her dreams would have no peace tonight. She was determined to get away from Edoras, with all its bad memories and pressure upon her to be perfect. There was a limit to how much she could take, and she was teetering on the edge of it.

[GaladrieloftheOlden]

Herlion saw that Neisa seemed to be thinking about something, and did not speak. The others sitting at the table where he was spoke civilly, but looked daggers at each other. He did not want to interfere, and, feeling increasingly uncomfortable, edged a bit away from the group and stared down at the floor for a while, deciding to return to the table when things quieted down for a bit.

For the time, he sat a bit, warming his hands, thinking and remembering. He hoped that here he would find somebody to be a friend to him, as he knew that many peoples stopped here to talk or drink or spend the night. As a child he had not had many friends, having looked different than the others, with his black hair and green eyes, and been cast out, and all those who had not been his friends as children were not about to start now, so he had left for Edoras recently... there didn't seem to be many people in the room now, and a surprising amount of drunken laughter was coming from beneath tables, so Herlion decided to try for another drink himself. There is really nothing else to do, he thought.

[ May 26, 2003: Message edited by: GaladrieloftheOlden ]

[Orual]

Rie sat on her bed, hugging her knees and staring at the ceiling. What was she supposed to do about men? She felt her own fingers brushing her cheek--beautiful?--and lowered them hastily. She was acting like a fool girl with with too much drink in her. And all for a boy, no less!

A light breeze drifted in from the window, open a crack, and shifted Rie's light nightdress. She shivered and pulled the covers over her. Beautiful? She shook her head fiercely. Honestly. If only Nuru was still awake. She would know how to handle boys, undoubtedly. Or maybe Elven men weren't as difficult to handle as humans? She fiddled furiously with her necklace, slipping the ring on and off of her finger. It had been her mother's, passed down through the generations--smith to smith. She felt uncomfortable having it now, having broken that line. No smith--blacksmith or whitesmith or goldsmith--was Talmérië. Just a silly girl all in a tizzy over a young man. She pulled the covers over her head and glowered to herself before she fell asleep.

***

Talômi, for his own part, could not sleep. He hadn't even gone upstairs to a room. He stayed down in the common room, an empty glass that had contained water in front of him, staring out the window. Why had he been so rude to Eohsecg? It wasn't like Rie was his daughter or anything. Was he so afraid of losing her?

He buried his face in his hands. He couldn't think. Dead. The day before their wedding. Talômi dug his fingernails into his scalp to try and rid himself of the awful image that his mind had composed from Firramer's story. He was being so selfish. "Remember me." A hot tear ran down the young Ranger's cheek, and one ragged sob tore its way out of him. The few other insomniacs looked at him, then just nodded as though they understood exactly what he was thinking. He scrubbed his face fiercely then stood up, knocking the chair over. He picked it up and went upstairs. He had unfinished business.

His determined stride slacked as he actually got up the stairs. Which room was he in? That was Nuru and Rie's right there, and he was sure that Firramer had gone into that one. Oh, yes. There it was. He sighed. Now he'd actually have to do it.

He knocked on the door, and heard a sleepy reply--more of a 'who is it' than a 'come in', but either way Talômi entered.

"Eohsecg?" he said softly, and the young man stared at him in confusion. He smiled apologetically. "I know it's late, but I think we ought to talk."

[Nurumaiel]

Eohsecg spoke before the Ranger could say anything further. "You must forgive me, Talômi," he said hastily. "I apologize. I just feel so strange. A feeling I've never felt before."

"Yes, I see," said Talômi, studying Eohsecg carefully, trying to fight away the ill thoughts that Eohsecg was just playacting.

Eohsecg took a deep breath, then spoke quietly, "Whatever you have to say, I'm ready to listen."

[Orual]

"I'm ready to listen," Eohsecg said, sitting up straight. Still, there was a slightly wary look in his eye--a look that Talômi was sure he shared.

"I just hope I'm ready to talk," the Ranger muttered, and he sighed. Leaning against the wall, he gathered himself as though for a fight. "Eohsecg, what I did was wrong. I shouldn't have interfered with you and Rie. She's my sister, but I don't own her. She's a big girl, and she can handle her own affairs." He took a deep breath, and Eohsecg looked about to say something, but Talômi went right over him. "You must understand that I'm just worried about her, though. Despite the fact that we're twins, I've always thought of myself as her protector. She was the one who got into all of the scrapes, and I was the one who got us out of them. This isn't a scrape," he hastened to assure Eohsecg, "but nonetheless my brotherly instinct is kicking in."

Eohsecg looked at him. Like Talômi, he seemed a bit off of his ease, and maybe a little puzzled. Talômi couldn't read his face, though, so he just kept on talking. Just like it felt good to let it all out to Firramer, this confession was relieving. "Rie was never a...a girl, like some girls are. She never swooned over boys, or flirted, or in any way used her femininity to her advantage. Growing up around a flock of boys, she was always just another one of the boys, around us at least. The way she was blushing at your glances, and smoothing her skirts over her knees...it was all so strange on her. Like a new shirt that doesn't fit just right, or is a shade off the right colour." He folded his arms. "I guess I sound pretty stupid. But I suppose what I'm trying to say is that..."--he paused, trying to collect himself--"I won't bother the two of you anymore. And I...I apologize for the way I acted. I hope you can forgive me, and that we can be friends." He stopped abruptly after that, hardly believing that he had really done it. Then he took a deep breath and waited for Eohsecg's response.

[ May 30, 2003: Message edited by: Orual ]

[Tinuviel of Denton]

A tall manlike being entered the Inn. He was cloaked, hooded, and covered much of his face with a green wool scarf, and though that was not unusual in the current weather, he did not remove his coverings once inside. A faint scent came from him, reminscent of old pine forests.

He approached the bar, and asked for simply water, no food, nothing alcoholic. Just plain ordinary water. There was something he'd have preferred, but that would have to wait until he reached Fangorn.

The tall--man? elf?--took his water to a corner and watched the people come and go. He'd only left his homeland a short while ago, and was still cautious about how he showed himself. To drink, he slid the cup under his scarf, and kept his other hand in his cloak.

[ June 09, 2003: Message edited by: Tinuviel of Denton ]

[Sapphire_Flame]

Matau looked up at the building before him, scanning the sign proclaiming the inn's name: The White Horse. A decent enough place, it seemed. And it would be a relief to spend a night with a roof over his head, for a change. He strode inside.

He let the noise of the inn wash over him, not really heeding it; he was inspecting the patrons. The usual sort of crowd, hardly different from those he'd seen in other inns. Some sat in groups, others alone; he caught a glimpse of an elf and a man back in the kitchen, helping a group of hobbits wash dishes. A tall, heavily shrouded man sat in a corner, one covered hand holding his scarf around his head, the other resting on the table. Matau raised an eyebrow. How unusual.

He ordered an ale at the bar, then located a vacant table and sat down, flicking back his dark green cloak. Glancing around again, out of habitual watchfulness rather than suspicion, he took a long pull at his drink. A fine brew, he noted. He filled and lit his pipe, and proceded to watch the company through a haze of smoke.

[GaladrieloftheOlden]

Herlion opened his eyes, picked himself up from the floor to which he had once again slid, and tried not to yawn as he heard the door swing open twice, admitting a few new personages, one of them looking somewhat guarded covered in cloak and not showing any eyes or hands.

He rubbed his own eyes, trying to get the bleariness away. He rubbed his back, which had begun to develop a bit of a crick, glanced over at the newcomers again, curiously, and settled back into the comfort of his cloak.

[Tinuviel of Denton]

The stranger sipped his water, taking his time. It was a little bitter, not something anyone else would notice, but this fellow was an exception. Tiny differences in the water of a place told him volumes about the source. This was most likely from a deep well, near some sort of metal deposits.

He looked around. Several people were looking at him oddly. He chuckled musically, thinking that they'd look at him odder still, should he uncloak. Ordinary people didn't carry a wealth of leaves and twigs in their hair. But then, he wasn't ordinary.

He thought about approaching someone for directions to the Forest, but he'd heard that Fangorn had something of an evil reputation, even since the War of the Ring, and the Ents' part in it. That was what had brought him to Rohan. He'd always thought that they were just legends that his mother had made up out of loneliness. Fimbrethil was occasionnally given to flights of fancy.

He shifted, trying to get comfortable. He rustled when he moved, and the moment he heard it, stopped. That could draw too much attention to him. Attention he neither wanted, nor needed.

[ June 09, 2003: Message edited by: Tinuviel of Denton ]

[Sapphire_Flame]

That tall man in the corner was continually drawing Matau's eye. He tried to keep the glances as surrepticious as possible; he knew from experience that if someone deliberately seated himself in a corner like that, he did not wish to be noticed. Matau could see the man's eyes glittering inside his hood, staring, but not at anything in particular. Deep in thought, evidently.

Matau shifted slightly in his seat, stretching out his legs. He urged his gaze away from the tall man, content to watch him peripherally as he surveyed the rest of the room. A large group sat a little ways away from him, talking. Near them, another man, dark-haired and wrapped in a cloak, seemed to have dropped out of the conversation, and, Matau noted, dropped off to sleep. No, his eyes were slightly open; just dozing maybe, or watching the group beside him.

Scanning the room again, Matau held a small debate with himself, whether to speak to one of the men, or to remain silent, and wait for one of the others to speak to him. As a Ranger, and knowing from personal experience, he knew that getting into a conversation with just anyone was a good way to get into trouble. It was also just as good at finding you a trustworthy companion.

Matau noticed the dark-haired man was watching him with half-closed eyes. As usual, the solution had presented itself without any help from him. Matau beckoned for the man to join him.

[GaladrieloftheOlden]

Just as he felt to be ready to fall asleep, though he had already engaged in this activity for a while, one of the newcomers- a man, it seemed- was calling him over. Herlion was suddenly surprised for a moment, as he was rather used to being treated as a piece of furniture- noticed, but ignored- so he paused for a moment, not sure whether it was him who had been called, or somebody behind him.

Finally he stood, stretching, and walked towards the other man. There was a rather surging crowd in the inn, however, so it took him some time to find a path through the strangely assorted groups all around which did not involve much pushing or shoving.

[Sapphire_Flame]

The man hesitated, apparently unsure if it was he who was being summoned. After what seemed a moment's thought, he rose and crossed the crowded common room to join Matau at his table. He seemed surprised to have been noticed.

Matau gestured to the seat next to him, which the man promptly took. "Your companions seem to have forgotten you," Matau said, trying to sound amiable. He never was good at conversation; in the Wild, words weren't much needed. The man had a rather unsettled look about him, as though he was drastically out of his element. Matau could most assuredly sympathize.

"I apologize if I interrupted your repose, but we seem to be in something of the same situation. Am I correct in saying that you are not from around here?" The man nodded, his face rather red. "Pardon me," Matau said, suddenly remembering to not remain nameless; "I am Matau. What are you called?"

[GaladrieloftheOlden]

Still feeling as though he wasn't supposed to be there, Herlion replied: "Nice to meet you, Matau. I am Herlion," though he stuttered a bit as he said the words.

The man seemed friendly, if looks could be any judge, so Herlion relaxed slightly into a chair, though he must still have looked as though he were ready to jump out at any point. For lack of anything else to say, he asked, "So, where do you come from?"

[Tinuviel of Denton]

The cloaked stranger watched the dark-haired man and the other man talk, and felt a small pang of loneliness. Never mind, he told himself fiercely. I will have plenty of company once I reach the Forest. I hope.

He suddenly noticed that his cup was empty and arose, moving ponderously, like an old man, and approached the Innkeeper.

"A room for the night, if you please," he requested in a surprisingly high tenor voice that was completely at odds with the apparent age of his movements. It was the voice of a boy, or a very young man. One side of his scarf slipped, and though he caught it quickly, his skin was revealed for a moment. Or was it skin? It was a shade of dark brown, rough and coarse. It resembled the bark of a tree more than anything else.

[ June 04, 2003: Message edited by: Tinuviel of Denton ]

[ June 11, 2003: Message edited by: Tinuviel of Denton ]

[Sapphire_Flame]

"Nice to meet you, Matau. I am Herlion," the man said, stuttering a bit. He seemed extraordinarily ill at ease; even when he relaxed he looked as tense as a bowstring. Matau couldn't help but wonder why he was so nervous.

Herlion was quiet for a moment, then asked, "So, where do you come from?"

Matau smiled; this could be answered in two ways. He decided to tell both. "My home is in Eriador, in the north. Though, now, I'm on my way back from a journey to Mirkwood and Fangorn Forest. I'm something of a traveler." Herlion looked interested, but Matau decided to let it go at that.

"And what of yourself?" Matau asked, reflecting the question. "Where are you from?"

[Tinuviel of Denton]

The tall stranger looked sharply at Matau. Fangorn Forest? Surely he had misheard the man.

"Excuse me, sir, I do not mean to be rude, but did I hear you mention Fangorn Forest?" When the two men looked at him somewhat oddly, he checked his coverings to be sure none of them had slipped. "You see, I am going there myself, and I thought you might be able to help me."

He stood there for a moment, waiting. When no answer was immediately forthcoming, he bowed a bit stiffly, and began to back away. "Never mind, I will find my own way, excuse my intrusion." He stammered a bit, as he nervously fingered his cloak and scarf.

[Sapphire_Flame]

"Excuse me, sir, I do not mean to be rude, but did I hear you mention Fangorn Forest?" Matau looked up and saw that tall man standing next to him. That was odd; the man had seemed so reclusive, he was surprised that he had spoken up so sudddenly. The man continued, "You see, I am going there myself, and I thought you might be able to help me."

Matau glanced at Herlion, then looked back at the tall man. He was considering what to say. But the man, looking suddenly uncertain, gave a stiff bow and began backing away. "Never mind, I will find my own way, excuse my intrusion."

"Wait," Matau said, before the man could leave. "I apologize for my hesitation, if it made you believe I didn't wish to offer assistance. I would be more than willing to help you." Matau looked at Herlion, then back to the other man. "I am Matau, and this is Herlion. What are you called?" He waited for the man's reply.

[Tinuviel of Denton]

"What are you called?"

"Hmm, well, hmm, I do not know the correct way to say it in your tongue. I suppose you could call me...Twig. Yes, I think Twig will do."

"Twig?" asked Herlion curiously. It seemed an odd name for a person who was well over six feet tall.

"Well, I am still very young, you see. When I am older, my name will be longer," explained Twig, which made no more sense to the two men than did his name. "But, Matau and Herlion, surely those are not your right names. We have only just met." He shook his head a little, which caused a rustling noise, something like a tree that was blown by the wind.

"Well," said Matau, "That shouldn't make much difference. A name's a name."

Twig appeared to be a little embarassed, though it was hard to tell under all the draperies. "Of course, of course, I keep forgetting that you have different customs than in my homeland."

"Where are you from, Twig?"

"Hmm, well, I do not know the name in your tongue. Actually, I do not know the name at all. We do not talk much, and never needed a name, for all knew where we were." Twig's answer was not meant to be vague, he honestly didn't know. "I am strange, to my mother," he murmured, as if talking to himself. "She does not understand my longing for the wilds, my wish to be where the trees are not placed in mathematically precise rows, where the weeds can grow alongside the flowers...I am sorry. I should not be rambling on like this. Can you direct me to Fangorn Forest? I would very much like to go there."

[Sapphire_Flame]

Matau nodded. "Gladly. I will be heading north myself soon, and could go some of the way with you, as well." Twig seemed honest enough, though his vague answers had been rather off-putting. Matau felt that he could trust the man, yet.... There was something undeniably odd about him; his manner of speaking, his unusual height, and his excessive coverings all lent him a mysterious air.

Twig's eyes gleamed inside his hood. "Thank you. I much appreciate your help." He seemed genuinely pleased. Matau wondered why the man was so determined to go to Fangorn; most of the people he'd met would just as soon stayed away from the old forest. Even though the Ents' part in the War had been a noble one, men still didn't relish approaching Fangorn's Wood.

"You're welcome," Matau said. He paused for a moment. "Twig, could I possibly speak to you outside for a moment? I'm rather curious about something." Twig suddenly looked apprehensious, as far as Matau could tell. Herlion glanced at Matau, obviously wondering what in Middle-earth he was thinking.

Matau gave the other man no hint. He kept his gaze on Twig. "I would just like to talk without so many other people about. I believe I am correct in saying that you wish not to draw attention." He rose. "I am only curious. You need not answer my questions if you wish not to." Matau nodded toward the door.

[Nurumaiel]

Eohsecg slowly drew back his hand. Talomi blinked and instinctively drew back a little. Was Eohsecg going to give him a good one right in the nose? But instead the young man's hand flew forward again, with a smile on his face. Talomi hesitated, then he grasped the hand and smiled back.

"You too must accept my apologies," said Eohsecg with a little bow. "I have been, perhaps, a bit hasty and inconsiderate. Your sister will have my attention, most certainly, but though while she is attractive I doubt if I am 'in love' as of yet." He smiled again. "That may change, though. She is very beautiful."

[Tinuviel of Denton]

Twig followed Matau out, a little hesitant about this, though he didn't think the human meant any harm. Of course, others hadn't meant harm, either. Until they saw him without his cloak and scarf. Then they always tried to hurt him.

As they left the Inn, Twig hummed quietly to himself. It was a nervous habit of his, one that his mother had disliked. She said it reminded her of someone. Someone she'd known long, long ago. She never said who.

Once they were outside, Matau smiled. Maybe it was meant to be reassuring, but Twig was not. He was growing more and more apprehensive about this as it went on. It wasn't really that he didn't trust Matau, at least as far as one could trust a person one had just met, it was that he'd had some bad experiences with people who started this conversation in the same way.

[ June 09, 2003: Message edited by: Tinuviel of Denton ]

[Sapphire_Flame]

Twig seemed extraordinarily nervous as he turned to face Matau. He must have had experiences much like this in other places he'd been, and with unfavorable outcomes. Matau could understand his unease; he had been in similar situations himself, and knew how nerve-wracking it was to be questioned about your whereabouts. He tried to smile reassuringly.

"I don't know why," he started, "but I feel like there is something very unusual about you." Twig gave no sign of inturrupting, so he continued. "I mean no harm, but I like to know a little more about the people I travel with than I know about you. I have been in situations similar to this, where my companion has proven to be untrustworthy. I do not think this of you; you seem to be someone I can trust."

Twig's unease seemed to diminish slightly, but not much.

"And I hope you feel you can trust me," Matau said. "Though I can understand if you do not; many people have not, though they knew less about me than you do.

"I do not know why you want to go to Fangorn. Myself, I went to learn more about the other forests in this world. And I went to learn about the Ents. Many people foolishly fear them, because of what they did during the War, even the people of Rohan, who were saved by the Ents' assistance. I went to Fangorn to settle my own mind, to disprove the rumors I've heard of the Forest. This I have accomplished.

"You may have a different reason for going. I don't know. I do know that if you mean any harm to Treebeard's folk, you will answer to me. If not, I have no reservations to taking you to the Forest. I only wish to know why you desire to go there."

[Tinuviel of Denton]

"You may have a different reason for going. I don't know. I do know that if you mean any harm to Treebeard's folk, you will answer to me. If not, I have no reservations to taking you to the Forest. I only wish to know why you desire to go there."

Twig looked at Matau incredulously. Harm the Ents!? The very idea was utterly, totally absurd. After all, he was one of them.

"Matau," he began, "There is no way in all the world that I would harm the Ents. I...well, perhaps I had better just show you." He unwound his scarf, revealing a smooth-skinned, dark brown face with deepset green eyes, though they hadn't the wisdom and memory of the elder Ents. Then he pushed back his hood, uncovering stiff, dark green hair that was reminiscent of pine needles.

"This is why I wish to go to the Forest."

[Elora]

Ronnan had let the uncomfortable silence continue for far too long between him and Naiore. The Elven woman had sipped elegantly at her wine whilst he had contemplated all the unsavoury possibilities she may be able to muster. Naiore was not a woman to be lightly triffled with, if all accounts could be believed. Ronnan, as he observed her, was inclined to believe.

The arrival of a somewhat unusual guest managed to snag the thief's attention. With the observational ability so necessary for a sucessful career in theft, Ronnan quickly ascertained that the newcomer was not at all a commonly found sort of person. Struggling to keep the smallest shred of composure, Ronnan set his long untasted ale down on the table and looked at Naiore.

He ignored his startlement at finding a set of wide emerald eyes studying him.

"We have an interesting addition to our number," Ronnan said as smoothly as possible. Naiore looked sceptical for an instant, and then followed his line of sight to study Twig as he spoke with another. She watched for a long moment, and Ronnan allowed some hope to surge.

"Well we may, Ronnan," was all she said after a long moment, turning back to face Ronnan.

"Why do you suppose he's here," Ronnan asked.
"Why do you suppose it's of any concern to mem," Naiore asked in her own turn. Her serentity and assurances seemed unruffled, and for a moment Ronnan wondered if that hope he had felt was utterly unfounded.

"Perhaps it is common from whence you hail to see such things freely abroad and mingling at inns and taverns," he commented. Ronnan forced himself to pick up his ale again, and sip at it in a display of ease. Naiore could sense with little trouble what an absurd facade that display was. Yet, the thief did have a point. Perhaps his unease that coloured her empathic senses was not entirely related to the prospect of meeting his comeuppance.

She twirled the stem of her wine glass between two long fingers as she thought.

"Perhaps it would behoove us both to know more," she allowed. She had little liking for discovery, particularly in Rohan where her list of known crimes was most comprehensive. Strange occurances such as the coincidental appearance of what seemed to her to be an ent-like creature are not to be overlooked if continued freedom was sought. Such casualness was not wise.

Ronnan's face held traces of anxious uncertainty. His sapphire eyes continued to study the newcomer. The thief knew the risk that coincidences could pose. There was no such thing as a coincidence. Naiore set her glass down and leant towards the Feanorian Elf.

"It would go well for you if you aided me in this. Were you to move closer so as to better hear, I would not overlook such a service," she purred. Ronnan examined her closely.

"Let it not be said that I refused a fair lady service," he replied in a faint echo of his habitual charm. Naiore smiled indulgently and Ronnan pushed his chair away from their table and stood. Careful not to draw overmuch attention to herself, she was sure to not watch Ronnan approach the individual in question.

Ronnan was equally careful in his approach, employing the stealth by which he had made his fortune, up until now that is. There was an art to blending in and in doing so becoming invisible and he used all his skill now. He walked through the clusters of people and tables, until he neared Twig. There he paused, for he knew Naiore would not ignore him entirely, just mostly. He loitered until she had checked his location.

Poised between Twig, the individual he was speaking with, and the bar, Ronnan was able to observe Naiore's quick location check and then move with as much haste as he dared for the door. If he looked more than once over his shoulder, noone could blame him.

Once outside of the bar, Ronnan found himself no longer constrained from a conspicuous display of speed and put as much distance as he could between himself and the Elven woman who would soon discover his absence within.

[Sapphire_Flame]

"This is why I wish to go to the Forest."

Matau took several steadying breaths. Twig was an Ent. Of course, he should have known; he had suspected, of course, but even a Ranger could not be sure of all his suspicions. The revelation was still a surprise, however, though not an unwelcome one. Matau smiled, pushing his windblown hair out of his eyes.

"Well met," he said, his smile broadening; then, to Twig's great surprise, he bowed to the young Ent. "It would be an honor to lead you to Fangorn Forest." For the first time since Matau had noticed him, Twig looked relieved. He had found acceptance from someone, when he had expected hostility. Matau knew the relief of finding a friend among potential enemies. He was glad he had met Twig when he did; even thinking of what others might have done infuriated him.

"You have truly earned my trust, Twig. And I hope I have earned your's. We will depart for Fangorn as soon as you desire."

[Horse-Maiden of the Shire]

Aleia rode up to the White Horse Inn, glancing at the sign swaying above the door. She gave her pony Skeet into the care of the stablehand and went inside the inn. As she stepped in, the people nearer to the door glanced at her, obviously surprised to see a hobbit in these parts. Aleia smiled at them and stepped up to the bar.

"'Scuse me, barkeep," she said. "Can I get a bowl of stew? And a pint? Thanks." When she got her stew and ale, she breathed in the scent deeply and sighed. Days of riding long and hard and staying in inns of lesser quality than the Horse had taken their toll. Since she had left the Dragon, Aleia had had to sleep in ditches and hedgerows when she couldn't find an inn. She remembered one less than beautiful night where a farmer had found her asleep on the edge of his field and, waking her up, chased her to where Skeet was grazing. Needless to say, she was not sleepy while finding another bed that night.

Aleia chuckled at the memory, although it hadn't been funny at the time. She spooned a bit of soup into her mouth and swallowed it slowly, savouring the rich taste. She finally surveyed the crowd in the inn for someone to chat with. She finally saw a lone Elf-lady sitting by herself. She looked quite dignified and Aleia felt a little ashamed to approach her, but it had been a long time since she had had a decent conversation.

"Excuse me, lady," said Aleia as she approached Naiore, sweeping off her hood and bowing low. The lady looked amused when she straightened up, probably because women usually curtsy. "Would it please you to chat with me a bit?"

[ June 13, 2003: Message edited by: Horse-Maiden of the Shire ]

[Bêthberry]

Change, that bane of the Noldor and other elves as well, is no stranger to Rohan and I am sure that all our Rohirrim writers look forward with courage and fortitude to the new events scheduled for Rohan.

The Golden Hall will be revamped over the weekend and a new White Horse Inn thread will be started, to reflect the new challenges and abilities of our Rohirrim writers.

Look for a list of those who are eligible to game in Rohan when the new Horse thread opens. (Hint: if you've been here before June 1, 2003, you will be on that list, with the provision that you respect the rules, which have been clarified.) And a party to celebrate the new digs.

Look also for more clearly explained criteria for gaming in Rohan. And new members of the Rohirrim team who are here to help you have the best games possible to do justice to the legends of the heroric Rohirrim.

And if I am allowed a non-Tolkien allusion, I will quote Grace Slick, "It's a new dawn."

Bêthberry,
Innkeeper of The White Horse and
Moderator for Rohan