The Green Dragon

[Valeria, Witch of Angmar]

Valeria looked up as Garen approches and smiles. "I thank you, sir, for you kind words, though I fear that is all of the song." She looked down at her hand, running her fingers over a simple silver ring with a red stone. "My friend Danilen taught me that song...and I fear the story is too sad for a lively evening such as this. I'm afraid I'll have to dissapoin--"
Valeria jerked her head up as the Barrow Wight approached and hauled Amron into the ktichen for a round of dish scrubbing. The corners of her mouth twitched and she burst out laughing. After a moment she wiped tears of laughter from her eyes and returned her attention to Garen. "Forgive me, sir, for my outburst, but it seems a friend of mine has just been...um...recruted for some help in the kitchen. I believe he's going to need some...consolation when he's finished." She rose and went to the bar in search of a pitcher of ale.

[ December 10, 2002: Message edited by: Valeria, Witch of Angmar ]

[Finiel]

As the man finished his song Sarah was surprised that her violin's tune matched with that of the singer. She shook hands with the man named Soronume, "That was a very beautiful song, sir. Plus you have quite a lovely voice." Soronume smiled and humbly thanked the musician and went to the bar.

These singing and dancing made me feel hungry again, Sarah thought as she went back to her table. And just in time Dwarin the innkeeper was serving ales to a table near her, "Master Dwarin!", she called, "may I have some bacon and 2 peanut butter sandwiches and a glass of orange juice, please." Then with a flash Dwarin served the food she ordered and before she could thank him another person in the room called the busy innkeeper.

The elf-maiden named Celebmornie began to sing an enchanting song and she had a lovely voice, too. But as Sarah listened to the singer she could not understand what the elf was singing, it was an enchanting song and she felt that not understanding what it was all about will only make her an insomniac.

So when the elf-maiden finished Sarah called to Celebmornie as polite as she can ( after all this was a lady elf not some ill-bred woman), "Excuse me mademoiselle Celebornie, that was wonderful but may you kindly sing that song in the common language. All I can understand from your song was the world mellon. And I think that its an elvish word for friend."

[ December 09, 2002: Message edited by: Finiel ]

[Donlammenion]

As the laughing finished fin looked across the table toward the bottle of wine and four goblets which was given to them by an elven maiden sat across the room.
"Fin why don't you thank the lady for her most gracious gift" Don proceded

Fin gave a pious look which can only be described as a plead but his companions didn't allow him to forego the task so he rose and proceded to the table.

"please excuse this interupion but my friends and i would like to thank you for the wine you gave" at this point fin was mumbling and looked as if he could faint but in an instant he regained his composure as he thought it would only be fitting if he asked her to join them!
"I wonder if you would be so kind as to join us when we taste the wine" the question hung in the air as Fin awaited an answer....
PIO's POST

‘Mae govannen!’ Pio had called out graciously as the Elf approached her table.

She smiled warmly at the seemingly tongue tied Elf before her. She was certain he had not mumbled as he talked to the Elf maiden – the one who had sung the lovely song. Pio waited, giving him an opening.

He took a deep breath and regained his composure. ‘I wonder if you would be so kind as to join us when we taste the wine.’ he asked, having thanked her for the wine. He nodded his head toward the table where his three companions sat. She nodded toward the three and smiled, then returned her attention to Fin, her grey eyes regarding him closely.

‘An Elf of Eryn Lasgalen, are you not?’ she asked, noting the northern accent. ‘It has been many years since I stepped foot in Greenwood the Great. It is a lovely place, Thranduil’s kingdom.’ Memories played across her features, softening them. Recalling that he had asked her to come sit with them, she broke from her reverie.

‘Alas! I am here on some urgent business, awaiting the arrival of someone. Perhaps when my meeting is over, your invitation to a glass of wine will still stand, and I can join you then. Until then, enjoy the wine as I enjoyed the song.’ Fin smiled at her and nodded, thanking her once again, then strode quickly back to his waiting companions.

[ December 11, 2002: Message edited by: Donlammenion ]

[Kiara]

The young dwarf reached her hand tremulously towards the elf's,

"Parin; Parin Stonemouth" she said, abruptly, and then, remembering her manners: "a pleasure to meet you, m'lady. Parin then quickly gripped her tray with both hands to steady it, resisting the urge to curtsey so as not to send tankards (empty as they were!) to the floor. Aule and Illuvatar, if you care for your creations at all, please bless me now with an extra measure of grace with which to interact with this fair lady!, she prayed, and then:

"I did not observe any lapse in politesse, Ms. Piosenniel, I am your servant."

And with that, she whisked off to the kitchen to fulfill her duty and to put that nemesis of a serving tray away before it did her in for good. There she met yet another of Dwarin's new "helpers". Well, they never learn! She thought with a sly grin, and then continued her rummaging amongst Dwarin's stores until the desired provisions were found, and to Parin's own liking as well.

Returning to the small table, once again filled with confidence from her brief respite in the larder, Parin served what she had found with obvious relish.

"For a lady of your obvious standing, I chose a fabulous red zinfandel to pair with your tastes in fruit and bread, I hope you find it to your liking: it is fairly light, so as not to overwhelm your delicate meal: a few fresh apricots, black cherries, and newly picked raspberries and strawberries from our brambly patch of garden in the back--I put some fresh cream also, on the side, in case it tempts your fancy--and a selection of scones, fine white loaf bread, or herbed flat bread for you to choose from--oh, yes, and for your gentleman friend," she said, turning towards the intelligent-looking beast that occupied the floor at the she-elf's feet with a warm expression of welcome for him, "Sir, I have brought you some sirloin tips to go with our finest well-water--no table scraps for the companion of an elf! I hope they suit your appetite." And then with a small flourish of her dimpled fingers, she dipped into her long-delayed curtsey.

"May I be of any further service to you, Ms. Piosenniel?"

[ December 09, 2002: Message edited by: Kiara ]

[Celebmornie]

Celeb smiles at everyone and thinks.
"I dont think I remember the words so give me a moment!"
She sits down agan and starts muttering to herself.
"I cant remember! I cant remember!"

She thinks for a little longer and stands up.
"I am soo sorry! I cant think of it right now! I will keep thinking and hopefully I will have remembered it a little later!"
She sits down and finishes her ale.

[ December 09, 2002: Message edited by: Celebmornie ]

[Airerûthiel]

There is a quiet figure sitting in the corner, dressed in a long dark hooded cloak. She does not speak to anyone, except when she gets up and orders another pint. No-one seems to notice her presence - she cannot remember how long she has been here - but she receives many unnerving glances from those who also sit in the inn. She has a dark secret, and she will not reveal it...not at this moment anyway.

[ December 11, 2002: Message edited by: Airerûthiel ]

[piosenniel]

‘Well met, Parin Stonemouth!’ was accompanied by a satisfied ‘woof’ from beneath the table.

Pio picked up a buttery colored apricot and slipped it whole into her mouth, working her tongue and teeth around the succulent meat. When she had done with it, she slipped the seed out to her waiting fingers and laid it on the plate. ‘Next to ripe figs, which are hard to find in these northern lands, these are my favorite fruit.’ She picked up another, feeling the soft coat of down on its skin. ‘Little golden jewels!’

She pushed the chair next to her out from the table, as she poured herself and Parin a glass of wine. ‘Can you be of further service to me?’ she said smiling. ‘I think you might. But, please, come sit with me a moment. I would have some company while I eat, and I know no one here.’ She broke off a small chunk of herbed bread and sopped it in her wine. ‘Tell me about yourself, Parin. What brings you here to the Shire? And to work at the Inn?’

The Elf motioned casually to the offered chair, her attention now seemingly focused on the meal before her . . .

[ December 09, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[AddictedtoRumil]

A pretty elf maiden with dark hair and eyes walks in the door and waves "Hello everyone i am Carnil"(Carnil is my r.p. character)*Carnil goes up to the bar and orders a pint and then takes a seat and waits for someone to join her* smilies/wink.gif

[ December 09, 2002: Message edited by: AddictedtoRumil ]

[Kiara]

Tentatively, Parin settled into a chair across from Piosenniel. She was intrigued by the elf's way of speaking and wondered what service she could perform that the capable-looking lady could not handle herself. I've thought of everything I could imagine palatable to her, did I forget something? Did I step on her feet without realizing it?

‘Tell me about yourself, Parin. What brings you here to the Shire? And to work at the Inn?’ she heard in the gentle tones of the elf.

Parin cleared her throat. "What do you wish to know about me?"

"Well, for instance, how is it that your parents are not missing your skills around their home? Why is it that you do not abide with them until the day some wise dwarf comes to make you his?"---this with a provoking side-smile.

The dwarf frowned at the reference to both parents and possible romance, feeling the color rise to her face once more, this time in frustration. "There was conflict at home. My mother thought I was too clumsy and distracted in to be much help to her; generally she just bustled me out of the kitchen.... Father, well, he blamed me for encouraging my brother, dear Davin's, dreamy nature. He also told me a man-dwarf would never care for the likes of me....I wanted to mature, to please them, but I didn't seem to change. I hoped going out on my own and seeking outside relationships might change me enough--that my rough edges might be worn down enough--that they would accept me and love me when I return to them. So, I struck up with a band of dwarves, making their way here to re-stock Dwarin's ale stores. I thought surely he would take me in, give me work, and so he has."

"Mmmm." Pio murmured, sympathetically, as she sat back and sipped her wine, "And how have you found the place?"

"Much to my liking," replied Parin, impetuously, "the people here are so different!" and then looked hastily up to make sure she hadn't offended.

"Different indeed!" the elf laughed jovially. I think I'm going to like you, Parin Foot-in-your-mouth!"

[piosenniel]

An impish glint passed quickly through the Elf’s eyes as the words ‘Parin Foot-in-your-mouth’ were spoken. ‘I think I’m going to like this one.’ she chuckled to herself. ‘Reminds me much of myself.’ She looked the Dwarf over thoroughly. ‘She’s still so young, for all her Dwarven years. Little does she know that the rough edges never wear off completely. The ones worthy of friendship and respect accept you as you are.’ She sighed, thinking how long a road this had been for her.

Her reverie was broken by a satisfied sigh and the sounds of Nop perfuming himself with the juices of the tasty meal as he licked his paws issued from beneath the table. ‘Well, there’s a satisfied diner for you!’ laughed the Elf again, and this time the Dwarf joined in - hesitantly, at first, then heartily.

The ice seemingly broken between the two women, they chatted amiably while Pio finished the foods set before her. Parin wondered at the amount of food the slender Elf tucked away. Pio glanced up, having heard the unvoiced question.

‘It’s the twins.’ she remarked, as if Parin had spoken aloud. ‘There are times I am so famished I could eat my way through the ship’s larder and still poke through the storeroom hoping to find more.’ She poured a little water in her wine, and sat back comfortably, her long legs propped comfortably on a chair.

Dwarin stood across the room and waved frantically at Parin, her back to him. Pio waved casually at him, watching his face turn red. She leaned toward Parin. ‘I do believe your employer has some urgent task for you.’ She pointed to the now spluttering Inkeeper, who glared their way, hands on hips. ‘Tell him that you had a special request from me, and that you took time to get it aright.’

She leaned toward Parin, speaking low. ‘I do have a guest coming soon, and I have heard she is partial to honeyed mead. Will you see if the Green Dragon’s stores hold such, and perhaps put together some savories to go with it? I would have her in a temperate mood when we speak.’

Pio watched as the Innkeeper strode toward her table. She saw Parin take a course back to the kitchen which avoided meeting with him. The Elf winked at the Innkeeper, and waved again as he drew near to her table.

[Eruwen]

Eruwen looked down at her glass and answered quielty to the friendly Elf sitting across from her. "I am on a quest of my own. You see, one night I was walking back home when I noticed there was a stranger at my door. He walked in quite abruptly. So, I sneaked over to a window so I could hear what was going on. I couldn't hear very good from outside, so I leaned in closer so I could see the figures inside."

Eruwen looked back up at Soronûmë. "They killed my family, sir." she said. "I'm not exactly sure who it was...or why they did it. But that is why I am here. I am on a quest to the mountains of Ered Luin. I thought my grandmother who lives there now could help me."

As she took another drink, Eruwen looked around the inn at the various types of people. "I never thought a night like this would happen. This inn is magnificent. There are so many different creatures here with many stories behind their lives."

Eruwen smiled once more and looked at the Elf sitting next to her. "Soronûmë," she said happily. "I'm glad I'm here."

[ December 09, 2002: Message edited by: Eruwen ]

[Valeria, Witch of Angmar]

Valeria takes quiet note of the hooded woman in the corner. She recalls the woman brushing past her as she went to the bar for a fresh pitcher. When asked, the woman had muttered that her name was Aireruthiel, or something like that...
Valeria pours herself a drink from the pitcher and leans back against the bar. She seems awfully familiar...Valeria shrugs and shakes her head. She takes a drink of her ale, relaxing to the sounds of patrons' songs, tales and the sounds of Amron still swearing and scrubbing dishes in the kitchen.

[arelendil]

Elwen swung off her white palfrey and smoothed down her long dark her. She then adjusted her cloak and pulled up her hood to hide the light. As her name suggested Elwen was a star maiden, a fallen star. stars do not have names as a rule but she had been given one by Legolas at their meeting. That was long ago and the time had been swift and bitter-sweet. Now Elwen journeyed far to escape the memories and the journey had brought her here, to the Green Dragon.

This pub was famous for its warmth and kindness but even so Elwen did not desire to go in yet. she let her horse go to find rest and sat herself down, had she known it exactly where Soronûmë had been sitting hours before.

Elwen played with the hem of her cloak. It had been a parting gift from her kindred in Mirkwood for although Elwen retained her star spirit in physical form she was a simple wood elf maiden. And when she hid her light you could never tell the difference except maybe if you looked deep into her eyes for there the heavens were mirrored in all their splendour.

[ December 17, 2002: Message edited by: arelendil ]

[Gorothlammothiel]

"Then you have purpose m'lady" replied Soronûmë after listening to her sad tale. "I am truly sorry to hear of your family, but I am sure that you will find out who did the deed in time". Eruwen smiled at him as Soronûmë continued, "but at present, enjoy your time here. You will indeed meet many creatures and befriend them". "I intend to" replied Eruwen with a quiet laugh.
The two sat for a while in silence. Eruwen noticed that Soronûmë had become uneasy, he was glancing around the room. Turning back to the table he spoke "If you will excuse me m'lady, I shall retire." Eruwen was puzzled but nodded as Soronûmë raised the hood of his mantle to his head and stood up. "Namarie, fair maiden" he whispered as he left the table, headed for the room Dwarin had prepared for him.
Eruwen was left alone. Drink still in hand she mused over the sudden departure of Soronûmë then looked up.

[Airerûthiel]

Airerûthiel glances over at Valeria from beneath her hood. The half-Elf pretends to drink from her empty pitcher as she tries to recall the face from her distant past, but it is no use. She gets up and walks towards the bar, muttering in Elvish under her breath...

[arelendil]

Elwen sighed. The trees held no comfort for her and the stars where hidden behind vast clouds. From the pub came sounds of singing and cheer. Elwen longed for the sight of a cheerful face and could stand the outside no longer.

She stood silently, pulling her cloak yet more tightly around her. A warm fire and a door between that and the outside that is what she desired. Well no... It wasn't but her hearts desire was impossible, and for now she would have this instead. Elwen walked slowly up to the door, a golden glow coming from beneath. Her fingers traced a pattern on the door, now long worn to almost invisble. Elwen bowed her head and pushed the door open.

At once she was hit with a light so bright that, Elwen could see nothing. But as her elven eyes quickly adjusted, she gasped. All around her, some sitting, some standing, some walking around was a multitude of folk. Elwen pulled her cloak more firmly around her, she had not expected the pub to be so full.

Elwen stood in the door way not knowing what to do, there was no one here to guide her.Her fingers danced over a plain silver ring, twisting it round her finger as she played with it unconsiously.
"No," she whispered quitely to herself, " the memories are to painful. Don't go back, move forward."
But still Elwen didn't move.

[ December 10, 2002: Message edited by: arelendil ]

[Airerûthiel]

Airerûthiel notices the door open and glances over towards it. "Another with a tinged history," she whispers, barely audible even to herself. Something about this stranger tells her that this new figure hides a secret like her own, but what that is she has yet to work out.

She walks over to the doorway and gives the traditional Quenya greeting, "Elen síla lúmenn' omentielvo, mellon." Why she speaks the Ancient Tongue she knows not, save for the look of the Eldar about this stranger.

[ December 10, 2002: Message edited by: Airerûthiel ]

[Derakis]

The door to the Green Dragon swings open and a Man in a dark green cloak, dark brown leggings dark brown boots and a black leather tunic walks into the Inn. The hood is up on his cloak, so his face is veiled in shadow, though locks of dark hair can be seen on his worn face. He has a quiver on his back and an unstrung bow with it. He wears a long, silver sword of excellent craftsmanship on his belt.

He surveys the crowd and then walks to the bar. As he sits at the bar, Dwarin walks over to him and asks, "What'll it be?" The traveler responds in a quiet, firm voice, “Water and a half loaf of bread, Master Dwarf." Darwin nods and comes back moments later with the bread and water. "Thank you." He then begins to eat.

[ December 10, 2002: Message edited by: Derakis ]

[arelendil]

Elwen breathed in sharply,"Are you addressing me? Never have i heard the fair elven tongue from anyone outside the boundaries of the elven realms. In which case may i say Na Vedui! Suliad, Elen sila lumenn' omentielvo! I had heard the people in this pub are friendly, indeed the place is famous for it, but i never thought.."

Elwen felt her troubles leave her for an instant, but they soon returned, leaving her feeling breathless and light headed.

"I think i need to sit," whispered Elwen quietly," But where are my manners I haven't introduced myself. I am Elwen. May i ask your name?"

[Deorlin]

Deorlin sniffed deeply at the air, the smell of freshly baked food wafting to his nostrils, making his belly growl. It was several days now since he had enjoyed more than the stale bread and molding cheese which was all that remained of the provander in his saddle bags. A good, warm meal would sit well, and a comfortable bed in place of the hard earth would be welcome indeed. Not that the young Rohhirim was unused to or unfitted for the rugged outdoor life of a messenger. Still . . . the creature comforts were not to be disdained when they could be had.

Dismounting before the inn, he tethered his horse to an iron ring set in the wall. The door of the tavern was ajar, and light spilled forth, spreading its homely welcome to all weary travellers. Deorlin stepped across the threshold, only to find his way blocked by a young elvish looking woman, who stod as if in reverie. Another was speaking to her in the elvish tongue.

"Excuse me, milady. May I pass?" the rider asked politely, smiling in a friendly way at the two.

[Eruwen]

As Eruwen looked around the inn, she noticed a lonely Elf sitting at a table...much like how she once was only minutes before. Eruwen stood up brushing her long hair behind her shoulders. With glass of Ale in hand, she walked over to the Elf.

"Hello, Carnil is it, I believe?" Eruwen said in the common tongue. "May I join you? You looked lonely, and I thought maybe you would like someone to talk to." Carnil nodded and Eruwen sat down.

"Mae govannen. I am Eruwen. I am a visitor at the inn as well. My home is in Mirkwood. Tell me, what brings you to the Shire?"

[arelendil]

"I apologise," spoke Elwen softly," I seem to have rather forgot myself today but the shock of such a full place was great indeed and I am weary from much grief. I will not bother you any further."

Elwen pulled herself together and managed a half-hearted smile before retreating from the group at the door to a quiet corner of the room. Carefully choosing a chair beside the fire, Elwen slowly sat down and returned to her thoughts. Gazing deep into the dancing flames of gold and red, she went back to a night now long past.

[Derakis]

The traveler sat at the bar, his glass of water half empty and his bread nearly gone. He had observed the happenings of the Inn from beneath his hood and had decided that these folk were kind enough, and he could relax his guard a bit. He pulled his hood back, revealing a travel worn face and a week's stubble of beard, set under two penetrating ice blue eyes. He had dark shoulder length hair, strands of which hung in his face.

He glanced to the Elf woman in the doorway. He had seen Elves many times before but he was always struck by how beautiful and serene they all were. He turned back to the bar and sipped down the last of his water.

[AddictedtoRumil]

Suilad Eurwen nice to meet you, yes my name is Carnil, of course you may join me. I have come to the Shire to visit because i have never been here before and i wish to see the place which the hobbits live i must say it is far different from Imladris this place seems more open and green it is a nice place to be and what brings you here Eurwen?

[Eruwen]

Eruwen smiled and was about to answer Carnil, when she noticed a young Hobbit lass come in the door of the inn screaming! Eruwen got up immediatly from her seat and rushed to help the Hobbit to a booth where she could lie down. People from all over the inn crowded around the injured girl.

"Slow down, young Hobbit take a breath." said Eruwen calmly. "What is this you say about Wargs?"

[Deorlin]

Deorlin continued to smile as the young elf excused herself and made her way to the corner of the tavern. He strode further into the inn, surveying the crowd. It seemed quite packed, with no visible empty tables. So the rider walked on to the bar, where he found an empty stool and caught the innkeeper's attention.

"Good eve, sirrah! The smell of your cookery led me by my nose to your fine establishment. My stomach is growling for some meat and fresh bread. Could you provide such, and a tankard of ale to wash it down?"


[ December 10, 2002: Message edited by: Deorlin ]

[ December 10, 2002: Message edited by: Deorlin ]

[Eruwen]

Although then Eruwen noticed she was just daydreaming and saw she was sitting once again infront of Carnil.

"Oh, um," started Eruwen. "I am on a journey to find my grandmother in the mountains of Ered Luin. I stopped here on my way." Eruwen looked down at her half-empty glass of ale then back up at Carnil. "It's a long story. If you want me to, I will tell you. But it happens to be pretty long. I have journeyed very far from Mirkwood with many dangers ahead and behind me."

[ December 10, 2002: Message edited by: Eruwen ]

[Valeria, Witch of Angmar]

Valeria looks to the door as a new maiden enters. She watches as the young woman from earlier approaches her and she is certain she hears snatches of elven tongue. Before she can dwell too heavily on them, however, her attention falls on a man who entered scant minutes after the elf maiden.
He orders water and bread, and, when he removes his hood, she sees he has the face of one who has traveled long. Her eyes move to the silver sword at his waist. It is a fine blade, hinting that the man is more than he might appear. She takes a step towards him, ready to ask his name, when a scream tears everything apart. Her reflexes take over and the first inches of her sword are clear of its sheath before she is even aware of it. Collecting herself, she sheathes the weapon for now and tries to catch news of the uproar. The word "warg" is all she can make out, but her hand returns the the hilt of her blade.

[arelendil]

Elwen felt too hot so close to the fire, she was tempted to remove her hood and cloak but something stopped.
"Why," laughted Elwen to herself," i have journeyed far to escape grief and sorrow and yet i still hide from attention."

Elwen stood up very slowly, not really thinking about what she was doing.
" Don't think, just move." she mouthed to herself as her fingers unfastened the silver star shaped brooch which was holding her cloak. Elwen sighed and with one swift fluid movement removed her cloak, carefully placing it on the chair beside her.

Her light now showed but dimly, she wondered if anyone will notice. Did she want them to..well Yes, partly. But the travel had made her tired, so she was only glowing slightly and the bright fire obscured the rest. Maybe they would think it just her dress. It was her favourite, pure white hemmed with silver. Her dark hair falling in waves about her shoulders was decorated with white gems that burned like stars. Like she burned when she was happy and content.

"A drink", she spoke to herself," How very thirst I am!"

Elwen smoothed down her shimmering dress. How comforting the fabric felt under her fingers. Elwen sighed but then stopped and smiled like she had not done for ages.

"Tonight I shall have fun and enjoy myself, leave the sorrow till tomorrow" laughed Elwen walking slowly over to the bar.

[Gorothlammothiel]

Well rested, Soronûmë returned to the bar of the inn but he was still uneasy. As he walked into the busy room he felt a sense of danger. Without realising Soronûmë lowered his hand and secured a tight grip around the hilt of his small sword.
He looked around and noticed Eruwen talking to another on one side of the room and several new faces had arrived. Soronûmë walked over to Dwarin, “Excuse me master Dwarin, would it be possible for me to get water for my horse?” Dwarin looked at Soronûmë strangely as if to suggest he didn’t have the look of a rider about him, “Certainly sir, there is a tap round the back with other oddities you might find useful. We’re just as used to horses here as we are guests, even elves.” Soronûmë thanked Dwarin and headed towards the door, raising the hood of his cloak as he went. As he reached the door of the inn he looked back to see a beautiful elf maiden standing alone at the bar, her long hair flowing about her shoulders. There was a sense of awe about this maiden; she had a light shining from within. He thought about going over to her, and then remembered his friend and the song he had sung the evening before. Turning back to the door with a solemn look on his face Soronûmë took a step outside.
It was a bright day, which didn’t please Soronûmë too much, he much preferred a clear night or autumn morning. He saw that Dwarin was indeed right; there were several horses outside the inn, tied to fences and such. Soronûmë called to his horse and soon enough the horse came to him. He greeted his friend as his hand delicately stroked over the horse’s head. He then went to get some water from the tap.

[Derakis]

The traveler turns at the shout, hand shooting to the hilt of his sword. He sees a small crowd gathering around what seems to be a Hobbit., and hears something about “wargs” He also notices a woman whose stance indicates she was approaching him, though she is looking in the direction of the crowd. He notices that she has her hand on her sword as well.

He leans back, resting his back against the bar. He releases his grip on his sword and places his hands together, his left hand playing with a silver ring on his right. The ring is fairly large, and has a dark red jewel. He keeps watching the crowd hoping to hear more about the “wargs”

[Finiel]

"Quick! Some smelling salts to calm her down, Master Dwarin!" Sarah shouted as she ran to the corner where the hobbit was talking about "wargs" nervously.
"Give her some air! Please spread out." another woman said to the people gathering around the nervous creature.

Others were too drowsy to care, while those who were more quick and brave already had their swords unsheathed ready to battle the "wargs", eventhough the foul creatures weren't there yet. But most people were nervous and asking questions all at the same time, "Where?!", "Did they bite you??", "What do they want??!".

Though the inn was getting hotter with the new danger, Sarah noticed a male hobbit who seems to be always drunk and it also seems he did not know what was going on.
"Another pint, Sir Dwarin!" the hobbit laughed like all drunk men do.

[arelendil]

Elwen could hear alot of noise coming from behind her, mention of 'wargs' whatever they were! But her senses told her not to turn or get involved. She didn't know why, these people seemed friendly enough but at the mention of wargs...Yes there it was again, everyone had run over and tightened their grip on their swords.

"Excuse me, I am new around here, could I possible have a drink of water." whispered Elwen in the direction of the bar keeper but he paid her little attention, he was busy running around with smelling salts. Elwen could smell them even across the room, they smelt of summers long past.

Elwen didn't want to walk back to the corner of the room empty handed, but she also didn't want to walk to the crowd over the other side. Elwen chose an empty bar stool and seat there waiting for the bar keeper to return, he wouldn't be long. While she waited she absent-mindedly started to play with her hair, twisting small sections around her finger and laughing quietly to herself as her light spilled through illuminating her hair and making the white gems glow more brightly.

[Airerûthiel]

Airerûthiel retreats to her corner once again, only stopping to obtain another pint of ale. The talk of wargs disturbs her, bringing back the painful memories of that fateful night when she was just ten years old, although it seems like a lifetime ago. Her hand strays to the hilt of Minyacirith, her father's blade and the only trinket she carries to remind herself of her past.

On her way back to her seat, she realises that she did not tell the maiden who spoke the Elven tongue her name. She notices that the young woman sits alone at the bar, and feels sympathetic towards what appears to be a fellow Ranger after a fashion. As she reaches Elwen, she begins to speak to her.

"Forgive my impoliteness in not introducing myself, Elwen. They call me Airerûthiel, and I am a wanderer from the lands of the south. Like yourself, I am new to this place compared to most of those around you." She extends a weathered hand from beneath her slightly torn dark cloak and takes in the entire pub in one sweep. Taking another swig of her ale, she asks, "So what brings you to the Green Dragon?"

[arelendil]

Elwen snaps out of her thoughts to find a beautiful maiden sitting next to her.
"I'm sorry," smiled Elwen," i was miles away. Suliad and greetings,Airerûthiel." Elwen gave a nod.
"Ummm... I have journeyed from Mirkwood and before that Ithilien. I was seperated from my companions and am looking for a way to escape sorrow and grief. I find this middle earth strange, especial this pub, not long have i been on this..."

Elwen gasped, why was she telling this complete stranger about her history. Should she continue...?

[ December 11, 2002: Message edited by: arelendil ]

[Birdland]

“STOP RUSHING ME, YOU NINNYHAMMER! I’M NOT ONE OF YOUR FILTHY SHEEP TO BE HERDED, YOU KNOW!”

All conversation stopped at the sound of the high, screeching voice outside the tavern. Dwarin, who had been rushing to serve the Elven lady, abruptly turned about and fortressed himself behind the bar, studiously polishing pewter mugs that already gleamed.

The little collie at Pio’s feet leapt up with a yelp and a growl and scampered behind the chair, peeking out from the safety of her Elven cloak, as if it’s magical properties of camouflage might aid him.

The door swung open with a thud, and the there appeared on the doorstep the tiniest Hobbit that Pio had ever seen. She may have been all of three feet tall when in her prime, but age had curved her spine and thrust her head forward in an attitude of eternal vigilance. Her face was a wrinkled and red as a winter apple, but her eyes were still sharp, bright, and all-seeing. She was dressed all in black widow’s weed, with a stiff, starched mop cap covering her thinning, but still curling hair. A stout cane, made from the branch of the hawthorn, with a shine silver handle and tip, preceded her into the room. Amaranthas Bolger had arrived.

She looked around the crowded inn, (worse for wear after the visit of the Wargs), and glared down the various patrons with a look of utter disdain. “Hmph!“, she sniffed. “That dwarf has certainly let the place go to seed. That’s what comes from selling good establishments to outsiders, instead of keeping them in the family where they belong! Dwarin, a goblet of your best wine! Local! And none of your slipping water in it, you bristly ol’ skinflint!”

Dwarin’s face turned as red as his adversary, but he swallowed any comments, knowing that his first volley would only lead to even more aggressive counter-attack, at even higher decimals. He poured the goblet and silently signaled Parin to carry it to the table.

Elfred led the old hobbit over to the table, and said in a loud, clear voice, “Grandmama Amaranthas, this is the Elven lady I have told you about! She would dearly love to hear from you some of your tales of the old days!”

“DON’T SHOUT, CHUCKLEHEAD! I CAN HEAR YOU PERFECTLY WELL!” Amaranthas looked up at Pio and stated without preamble “So, come to hear my tales of “Mad Cami“, have you? Knew her, I suppose. Oh, don’t look so surprised . Stands to reason. She was always one to take off with the likes of Elves and those Wild Northern Men, instead of staying at home as any decent Hobbit lass would. I’ve heard the tales of Miss Goodchilde my entire life, and can only be thankful that she was no blood kin to ME, else us Bolgers might all be taking off into the Wilderness like those Mad Baggins or Goodchildes. “

Amaranthas took a seat in the comfy nook lately vacated be Elfred, and scanned the assortment of pastries laid out on the table with a sharp, bird-like tilt of the head, before selecting one and popping it her mouth. She washed it down with a long draw of the wine, wiped her lips on a lace hankerchief she pulled from her sleeve, and eyeing the plate again, said, “Well, speak up! What would you like to know?“

Anything you can tell me at all, Amaranthas…”

[Birdland]

(O.O.C. - The following post was written by Child of the Seventh Age)

Amarantha leaned surreptitiously towards Piosenniel, cupping her hand over her mouth and whispering to the Elf. "I got a heap o' stories, maam, about Mistress Cami. Passed down from my great grandmum. And she got 'em from her great grandmum. Only we like to keep them in the family, if you see what I mean."

Then Amarantha sat back and spoke a bit louder. Not much louder, but just enough for Piosenniel to hear if she strained her ears.

"You see, Mistress Cami was a bit strange. Always talking to fairies and wizards she was, and even creatures queerer than that. You got to watch folk like that, especially those big fairies with all their airs. Up to no good, I say. There's tales I've heard that would make your heart stop about some of the scraps she and her young 'uns got into there in the forest, the one they called Greenwood. Especially the one they called Gamba. A boatload of trouble he was, but that's a tale for another day."

"Not that any of the hobbits would complain to her face. Not a one! She and her daughter Rose were the best healers in the vale, and folks was always coming to them for help. A Harfoot she was, nice and brown, but even the Fallohides came begging for her to make them well." At the thought of those Fallohide masters coming to Mistress Cami, Aramantha's face broke into a wide toothless grin.

I've heard tell the poor ones she took care of without charging a farthing, but the ones with money, she made sure to get her fair share. She wouldn't take no guff from anybody, no matter who they were."

"Never married as far as I know. Had suitors aplenty I've been told but slammed the door in their faces. Don't know why. But she always took care of her little 'uns, and when they got bigger helped with the grandbabies too."

"They say she was mighty busy learning the little ones their letter and taking the bigger lads and lasses to train them with herbs and healing lore. When she got older, she was tuckered out, I think. And the thing that took it out of her was seeing the hobbit clans split up and go their separate ways. She said it was plumb stupid to have hobbits going off like that in twenty different directions. They'd never make it to where they were supposed to go. But nobody listened to her common sense. You know how it is when a Man gets set in his way, and a stupid way it is, too, sometimes!"

"So she packed her bags and said goodbye to all her kin, and went off somewhere over the mountain by herself. Said there were things she'd been putting off too long. And it was real important. Something about a promise left undone. Never came back…. never came back. Just disappeared Some folks say the wizards got the fairies to take her in. Me, I think those fairies liked her so much they spirited her off to dance under the hills. Could be dancin' still today as far as I know. Like I said, she was real strange."

"Does that give you what you want, maam?" Piosenniel looked up and smiled sadly over at Aramantha. "You've been very helpful, but I wonder if you'd try and remember just one more thing."

"Did Mistress Cami ever speak of a people who changed shapes? Are there any stories about that?"

Aramantha looked uncomfortable and stared up at the roof beams. It seemed as if she was hoping that Piosenniel would disappear.

She shook her head. "We don't like to talk about that. It just ain't natural. Even the faries don't do that. But I'll admit, Mistress Cami had a thing about those strange folk. Some whispers she had magic words that would make the strange folk come and talk to her. Don't know nothing about that though."

"Is that all?" probed the Elf, fixing a steady eye on her.

Aramantha shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Maybe one other thing. She had these wizards as friends. The two of them would pop in and out every now and then. The grey one, everybody said was real smart, and Mistress Cami liked him lots."

"Only lots of times, the grey one was busy and the brown one came instead. Mistress Cami used to get plenty mad at him. She'd start throwing dishes and things. She'd glare at him real bad and say the only reason she even let him be around was for the sake of an old, dear friend. Something about him having a special friendship with those unnatural people who keep changin' themselves around. And why didn't he have the sense to tell Mistress Cami that just five minutes before, and he would have saved them all a lot of trouble. And how it would catch up to him one day."

"Don't know what Mistress Cami meant by all that. Never understood a bit of it at all. But great grandmum made me repeat it word for word. Maybe it would be important some day."

"That's about it for now. I got other stories. 'Bout how her kids used to battle the spiders and how she shot an Orc or two with her bow but we'll let those wait for another day."

Piosenniel fixed her eyes on Granny, then leaned over and kissed her on her scraggly curls. "You've helped me more than you could possibly know."

[Celebmornie]

Celeb looks around and sighs
"I wonder what my friends are doing?"
She looks over to the door and smiles.
"YUNA!" She gets up and goes over the the other woman.
"How are you? I havent seen you in forever! Come you must join me and my companions for a drink!"
She goes over to the table and sits down next Fin agan.
"Please join us!"

**Sorry its so short But I am settign up a friend to join!**

[DreamKeeper]

Yuna Walks In Spotting Celeb. Celeb!!! I Haven't Talked To You For Forever!! So Could You Introduce Me to Some Friends? I Hardly Know Anyone And I feel A Little Strange In Here.

[Deorlin]

Deorlin's request for food and ale was interrupted by a loud commotion. A female hobbit was screaming near the back of the tavern - something about wargs! An involuntary shudder ran down Deorlin's back. He hadn't yet had the misfortune to come face to face, or sword to sword, with any of the foul creatures. But he had heard tales that would make a man's hair stand on end. Still . . . it seemed unlikely that such fell beasts should have made their way into the peace of the Shire!

The hobbit was surrounded by concerned and curious onlookers. Deorlin rose from his stool, but there seemed nothing he could do for the moment, until more coherent information was to be had from the near hysterical halfling.

As most of the inn staff seemed preoccupied with calming the little one, Deorlin decided that he would best use his time in seeing to his horse, Arad. He had intended to tend to him anyway, while he waited for his food. Arad had carried him many a mile through his journeys lately, and was his chief, and ususally only, companion. Deorlin knew that it was not only wise and fair to put his horse's needs on par with his own, it was absolutley necessary, if his wished to continue his trip and complete the task given to him so many months ago.

Slipping through the crowd and out the door, he untethered Arad and led him to the back of the inn, hoping to find a stable or barn and perhaps some feed and water. He would settle up with the innkeeper later when all the uproar had quieted down. He noticed another traveller who was seeing to his own beast, and Deorlin inclined his head politley, asking "Know you whether or not this inn can provide food and shelter for horse as well as man? We've travelled far this day and I'd say Arad here would enjoy a good nosebag of grain as much as I would a hot bowl of stew." He patted the horse's neck and extended his hand in friendship. "I am Deorlin, of Rohan, a stranger to these parts."

[Birdland]

Amaranthas old eyes went wide at the kiss on the head, and Elfred thought for a moment that the old woman would launch a massive attack at such "liberties". But instead, the woman's face unaccountably softened. It was the first sign of affection anyone had offered her in many, many years.

"There, there," she muttered, fumbling with the silver handle of her cane. "Well, I'm glad you liked my tales, and you seem to be a nice enough little thing, despite your wild ways."

The little hobbit seemed to be lost in thought for a moment, her gnarled old hands stroking the side of the goblet as a peaceful silence settled round the table. Then, with a sigh she reached into the pocket of her long black skirt and pulled out a shining, silver locket with a deep green stone . Holding it up to the light, she let the necklace twirl and wink in the candlelight before setting it on the table.
"Recognize it, do you?" she asked quietly, "It's been passed down, mother to daughter, through the ages. My own Celedine should have had it, but then..." She gazed up at Elfred, now sitting rapted on a bench beside the table. The story had held him enthralled. "Well, I suppose this should go to that daughter of yours off in Michel Delving: my grandchild."

"You have a new great-grandchild as well, Amaranthas." said Elfred with a quiet smile.

"Do I now? Well, let's wet the baby's head, shall we?" And with that she raised her glass to the two at the table.

Pio took up the locket, remembering that long ago day when it had been bestowed on her friend. To see it had survived through the ages, when so many others had not, brought tears to her eyes.

"There, there, dearie," Amaranthas said again, patting the ageless Elven hand with her own wrinkled, spotted palm. "I'll let you in on a little secret, Lady Pio," she leaned forward to whisper in the pointed ear, "I just about loved all those tales of Cami when I was growing up. If I was younger, and living in those times, I do believe I would have joined her on her adventures, myself."

[ December 12, 2002: Message edited by: Birdland ]

[Kiara]

At this, Parin returned to the table where the little shrunken woman and the lady Pio sat. She had hung back while they had been deep in conversation, which looked both thought-provoking and emotion-invoking to the lady Piosenniel. But now, by all appearances, they had drifted into lighter conversation. And Parin felt it her duty to offer more refreshment.

"My lady Pio, would you care for anything more at this time? I was able to find the honeyed mead you requested, and may I recommend the steak-and-kidney pie for your companion? I just pulled it out of the oven," flushed with pride,"I bustled Dwarin out of the way just long enough to bake it myself! Or may I simple refill your wine?"

Parin looked steadily at Pio as she awaited an answer, but she tingled with the desire to peer at the old woman nearby. She wondered what business an elf could have with such a curious creature....

[Derakis]

The traveler continues to watch the commotion of the Inn from his seat. He puts some coins on the bar and asks Dwarin for another glass of water. Dwarin nods to him and comes back with the glass. The traveler is still interested to hear of this “warg” business, but he thinks it is not his place to take charge and demand information. He’ll let the locals tend to the locals and he’ll help if anyone asks, or he thinks he is needed.

He sips at his water as he surveys the crowd once more. His eyes fall upon the woman in red, who was approaching him until the Hobbit girl had burst into the Inn. He wonders what she wants, or wanted with him, as he continues to play with the ring on his finger.

[the real findorfin]

Fin smiled as Celeb returned to the table with yet another of her elven friends. Yuna blushed as Fin smiled at her and sat.
"Hello, my dear, I am Fin, fgood friend of Celeb and Kimmy, and hopefully a good friend of yours by the end of tonight." He inclined his head and the new elf maid blushed even more.
"It is nice to make your aquaintance, Fin!" she said.

Fin rose and moved over to the bar to get more drinks for his friends. While he was their he noticed a new vpatron of the Dragon and enquired as to who he was.

"My name is Derakis," the newcomer said.
"Well, friend come and sit with us," Fin suggested, pointing to his table, where Celeb, Kimmy, Yuna and Donlammenion now sat.

[Derakis]

Derakis thinks for a moment, then shakes his head. “Thank you for your offer Fin, but I was just about to see someone. Another time.” With a nod to Fin, he takes his water and walks over to the woman in red. “Hello, my name is Derakis. I noticed your walking over to me. What is it you wanted?”

[AddictedtoRumil]

Carnil laughs and looks at Eurwen "I would love to hear the story." smilies/smile.gif

[the witch king]

Amron rinsed the last dish, muttering in a low voice "me Amron, one of the high familys of umbar, washing dishes" he shook his head. He had heard the sniggers of the others in the common room at his miss fortune.
Though he wouldnt admit it, he was quite intimideted by the Barrow wright. "A story he says, a tale?" he said in a slightly rased voice so the few in the kitchen could hear him,"How about the one where the weather beaten traveler seeking friendship and good ale is made to wash plates!"
He walked out into the common room every one hide there smiles at the proud mans missfortune. The fraze "pride comes befor a fall" was running threw manny a hobbits head.Amron looked over at the wright who had looked up from his wrightings "A lesson well lernt, master wright" he said with a bow.

[ December 11, 2002: Message edited by: the witch king ]

[ December 11, 2002: Message edited by: the witch king ]

[Airerûthiel]

Airerûthiel gives a wordless nod of understanding. "You do not have to say more than you wish to. We are all entitled to our secrets, and the choice of what we reveal and what we hide from those we do not know is our own.

"It has been desirable to make your acquaintance, Elwen. Mayhap we shall talk again sometime, but now I need to step outside. There is something I must consider regarding my next move in this game we spend our lives playing." Her eyes dart towards the lone traveller a little further along the bar; she knows not his name but distinctly remembers his order of bread and water not long before. "Anar caluva tielyanna, Elwen. Namarië."

Airerûthiel then makes her way towards the door, shaking her head silently beneath her hood. She senses she might have a new friend, an ally. But for some reason, she cannot take the lies that have kept her true self hidden from Middle-earth and its inhabitants. As she leaves, a hobbit seated at the table nearest to the door notices a green shield with the image of a white horse upon it on her scabbard...

~*~*~*~*~

The night is a bitterly cold contrast to the warmth of the pub, but the deep blue sky buttoned down with pinpricks of starlight like a soft velvet cloak offers comfort to the Ranger. She pulls back her hood to reveal a sweet face that displays signs of intelligence and an honest loyalty, but also a stubborn pride and a sarcastic tongue. Her long straight black hair glints blue when it catches the inn's porchlights, and she has eyes that glow like emeralds in the relative darkness.

A compliment. A friendly conversation. Something that went beyond looks of unease and contempt and the words, "Another ale, please." Airerûthiel could not remember the last time she had actually genuinely talked to someone; indeed it may have been...no, before that night. That night when evil came to slay her family and stole her world away. That night when she became who she was. That night when her scabbard was stained with the blood of her mother, who had died trying to save her daughter.

[DreamKeeper]

Yuna Smiles. So fin how are you? i've just got back from an adventure. i've been from Rivendell to the Misty Mountains and back. i love just going and seeing the sights of middle earth, but yet i have to say i get lonely.

Yuna puts her hood down and fixes her hair. its awfully cold in here. i think i'm going to go over and get a drink.

Yuna Walks Over and flirts with the bartender. What kind of drinks do you serve? i'm new here. smilies/wink.gif

[Eruwen]

Eruwen followed Carnil's remark with laughter. "Alright, then, you shall here it." Eruwen answered. "A few weeks ago I was out in the woods of Mirkwood searching for a quiet place to rest. On my way back home, I noticed a stranger at my house. Quite terrified and not sure what to do, I rushed over to a window on the side. As I looked over the window-sill to see what was going on, I saw my family murdered before my very eyes."

Eruwen took another drink from from her mug. "I am now on a journey to find my grandmother," she said. "I am hoping she will be able to help me find out who did this and why. It is somewhat a sort of revenge."

Carnil looked up with a strange shock on her face. "I want to fight them." said Eruwen. "I know I don't look like much of a fighter, but I do know some. My father taught me archery and swordfighting throughout my life. I can fight, and I want to find the people who did this---and I want to finish what they started just weeks ago."

Eruwen had a sense of anger in her eyes. One could tell the vengence she had in her heart just by looking at her. She took another drink of Ale and smiled at Carnil. "There are many people here, aren't there? All of them with so many different stories and backgrounds. It's amazing!"

[Belin]

Belin stared in astonishment at Amron, Findorfin, Carnil, and Derakis. The words of the Barrow-Wight were still ringing through her mind, and the dishwater was still dripping from the hands of Amron. Never above quoting words that had been seriously set forth in hopes of helping, she stood up on the raised hearth and repeated what he had said:

Here in the Green Dragon, the idea is not to converse with the other guests, but to graphically describe yourself, your actions, and your surroundings. Kind of like a book.

"We meet here because we are adventures with tales to tell. We meet here because we have a love of writing and we have ourselves to offer to new adventures. We do not meet here to wash dishes, although there are indeed some left. Listen to the speech of others, and learn what you may." She handed out featherdusters, sure that they'd come in handy soon.

She looked around, pausing for everyone's attention. She had an announcement to make, and wanted to make sure that it was heard by all.

"LISTEN!" she cried. "A new Rule has been written! It is now asked that signatures not be included in threads, so please uncheck the "show signature" box when you post in an RPG. Those who read carefully enough to be distracted by the quotes you would otherwise provide will thank you. And you'll still be using them elsewhere, of course."

She stepped down quickly, and moved off toward the stairs, away from the murmuring crowd.

[ December 11, 2002: Message edited by: Belin ]

[Coral]

Adonia walked silently towards the worn form of The Green Dragon. It's illuminated windows warmed the trodden streets that she walked upon and gave off a sense of closure. She hoped to find rest there, she had been fleeing from a pack of wargs all night. Seeing a pool of blood on the doorstep, Adonia feared the worst might be inside. Pushing aside the door she sighed with relief, it was all that she would expect to find here. Pushing through the crowd she collapsed onto a bench in the back. As she pulled down the hood of her cloak, some stares came with it. She was no hobbit, elf, or man, she was an enchantress from far away. Her ice cold eyes met the stares whose owners quickly turned away, not wanting any trouble that night...

[piosenniel]

‘Or may I simply refill your wine?’ Someone was speaking to her, asking her a question. ‘Pardon, I did not hear you’, she said, shaking herself mentally back to The Green Dragon. Parin repeated herself, and still distracted Pio asked her to bring the mead, a small pitcher of chilled wine, and, yes, the steak-and-kidney pie she had baked – just two plates, for Elfred and Amaranthas.

The necklace set with a piece of green chalcedony, lay in a small heap by Elfred’s hand, as he spoke with Amaranthas. Unthinking, Pio reached for it, wanting somehow to connect with her old friend. The chain and stone were cool against the skin of her hand, and the stone captured the soft light from the room that leaped out again from within. Cradling it between her thumb and first finger, she felt its smoothness. How many times had she seen Cami’s hand drift to it as it hung about her neck, her fingers rubbing the memories and promises to life. A shining hope from Ondolindë, round the neck of a small hobbit, herself the hope of times to come. Tears trembled on the dark lashes of the Elf, and fell unheeded on the table.

Eyes now dry, she looked up to see Amaranthas looking closely at her. ‘You’re that Elf, I’ll wager. The one she said would come looking to find her. Family always thought she was cracked whenever she mentioned that.’ Pio smiled at her, and said nothing. The wizened Hobbit rapped her cane smartly on the floor beside her. ‘I always thought there might be a kernel of truth to that.’ She rattled her cup on the table, drawing Elfred’s attention, and pointed at the mead. ‘She wasn’t crazy, you know. Leastways not any crazier than I am.’ Elfred wisely looked down at his plate and attacked it with focused vigor.

Pio placed the necklace, reluctantly, once again by Elfred. ‘Don’t you worry, Miz Pio.’ said Amaranthas, as if she had read the thoughts in the Elf’s mind. ‘I’ll get over there to see my grand-daughter and get them stories passed along to her. And, life willing, I’ll be around yet to get them same seeds planted in her daughter.’ Her wise old face softened, and she patted the hand of the Elf once again. ‘She won’t be forgotten, not while I’ve got blood running through these dried up old veins.’

Amaranthas raised her cup to Pio, who did the same in turn. Both women drained them at one swallow and slammed them on the table top. Elfred startled at the noise, but kept silent at the perceived agreement. He poured the two another round of mead, taking one for himself.

‘One thing, though, I’ve been wondering ever since I came in here.’ said Amaranthas, leaning forward in the chair, ‘though perhaps it’s dead by now.’ Pio leaned forward, her forehead almost touching that of the Hobbit. ‘And what is that, my dear Amaranthas? I will answer as I can.’

‘It’s about that pet of yours – the one you never named . . . the one she always mentioned in the same breath with you. I was sure you would have it with you if I ever saw you.’ Pio’s brow furrowed. ‘Pet?’

The old Hobbit grinned a toothless grin, and winked knowingly at the Pio. ‘Don’t play coy with me, Elf! You know the one I’m talking about. That flighty one . . . the bird . . .’

[ December 11, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Airerûthiel]

Time slips by slowly, but it does not seem as though there is any change in the world outside the Green Dragon. Airerûthiel knows she cannot face the singing and jolity that awaits her on the other side of the door, but she also knows that if she stays out here much longer the demons of her past will slowly start to choke any positive thoughts she may ever have.

There is a pool of blood on the step near where she sits, and she stands up abruptly upon noticing it, aware that it will bring back the nightmares she has not been able to hide from for the last five years. She hears the sound of horses whinnying in the nearby stables, and she goes to see what the disturbance is.

There is nothing wrong; it is the typical 'conversation' that occurs between horses, strangers or from the same stable, at odd hours of the night. She whispers to them in the Ancient Tongue, "Roccor, sérë." Suddenly she hears footsteps echoing in the courtyard, and heavy breathing behind her, and she instinctively prepares her bow and arrow to shoot.

"Who goes there?" an unrecognisable voice shouts from the darkness.

[arelendil]

The maid had left and Elwen was alone once more. She sighed, a deep sigh start from the heart. The light from her ring caught her attention but she quickly hid it beneath folds of shimmering white shutting out the memories it stirred up inside her. Elwen tapped her fingers on the worn bar top. Flicking her hair out of her face she stood up, she walked across the wooden floor boards making on sound and retrieved her elven grey cloak. Swinging silently around herself, once more hidding the light, Elwen slipped out of the crowded pub.

How cool the gentle breeze felt on her face. Elwen jumped down the last step and walked a short way down the path. A small patch of grass was off on the left hand side of the path on to this Elwen stepped removing her delicate silver shoes. Elwen stepped lightly making no imprint on the soft grass.

From the folds of her cloak Elwen produced a silver flute. Silm and delicate, with vines and leaves twirling around it.Elwen placed the flute to her lips and began a slow tune. Her feet began to dance, her hair and dress sparkling with light. But suddenly she stopped. Out here there was no one to hear the music, and music always demanded to be heard. Elwen turned swiftly, replacing her shoes as she went. The pub was to silent it needed song and dance.

Elwen stopped before the old door, listening once more to the calm wind whispering through the trees. Elwen bowed her head and pushed the door open.

[ December 12, 2002: Message edited by: arelendil ]

[AddictedtoRumil]

Carnil looks at Eurwen and says "That must have been painful to see you family murdered before you eyes like that i truly understand you anger and your grief" Carnil takes a look around "Yes people all around here are very different." Carnil turns back facing Eurwen "You will find your grandmother of this i am sure." Carnil gets a sad expression on her face and continues speaking "My parents were killed by Orcs tis only my brother Calaglin and i left he is thinking of going to the Grey Havens but i do not want him to leave there is nothing i can do the choice is his."

[Valeria, Witch of Angmar]

Valeria starts in surprise as the stranger from the bar approaches her. Her offers her his name and asks what it was she wanted. Her eyes fall suddenly to his hand where she sees a simple silver ring with a red stone, veyr like the one she herself wore.
"I am called Valeria," she replies after a moment's hesitation. "I confess I wished to speak with you earlier because you seemed to me to be a warrior who may know some of what goes on out in the world beyond this inn." She makes a sweeping gesture with her right hand, the light from the fire making the red of the gem in her ring flare. "Would you care to talk a while with me?" she asks. "There's a table just there that we could use and..." She sighs. "It has been long since I had time to relax in a place like this. I would appreciate the company, if you'd care to join me."

[the witch king]

Amron had taken up his seat in the dark corner of the common room once again, one thing he did like about this place was that things tent to be forgiven and forgotten very quickly.

He filled his pipe with what was left of his weed and lit up. Looking around slowly he seen the witch talking with a man he had not seen in these parts before, all seemed well and he took a long draw from his pipe "nothing better than good pipe weed he thort to him self.

He rose to his feet, and walked to the bar passing fin with a friendly nod. "Ale if you please Dwarin" he said with a smile(he was starting to get in to the habbit of being friendly to others) "one moment sir" came the reply, he looked over at Valeria and the new comer again. takeing his drink he walked over to them, with a nod he said "I dont think i have introduced my self" he said to the witch and rested this ale on a near by table, "I am Amron of Umbar at your service" with that he gave a slight nod then ternd to the stranger "and you are sir?" he took a draw from his pipe and waited for a reply.

[Sadbh]

There was a crisp tinge in the air as Sadbh found herself at the foot of the small inn. Her horse had an exhausted droop to its neck and a slow plod of a walk. She dismounted and unslung the wool pack off the back of her horse. Her russet sleeve snapped as she gently took the horse's reigns and led it to the stables which were fairly visible from the side of the inn. By simply touching it, she observed its weary nature and mumbled endearments to it in a speech long forgotten.


The inside of the stables was cool, yet one could feel the heat that radiated from the horses' bodies as you often could on a cool night. She found a vacant stall and walked in, leading her horse behind her. The straw was clean, but the water was stale. She removed a water-treated cloth water 'skin' from her bag. It had been hard to find one she could use, for she was loathe to touch leather.

From the opposite end of the stable she heard a low man's voice. It was an accent she clearly remembered from her travels. After she had removed the tack from her poor horse's body, she walked slowly to the other end of the stable.

"Excuse me, sir. I heard your accent and wondered if your were from Rohan." She smiled at the long, yellow plait that hung down his back and reveled silently in her accuracy.

"You were right." He smiled briefly.

"Would you look at my horse? He's been acting off as of late. He's listless and slim. I'm from Dale, so no horseman. Or woman." She added, smiling slightly.

[Deorlin]

Deorlin looked at the young woman with interest. He had just recently been in Dale and was much impressed with the courtesy and hospitality of the people there, although they tended to be somewhat grave compared to his own native countrymen. This One seemed grave indeed, and weary too. But perhaps that was on account of her horse's condition.

Intrigued, Deorlin replied, "Well, I'm no expert myself when it comes to horse ailments, but I'm more than happy to take a look and give you my opinion, for what it's worth." He smiled in a friendly way and the young woman smiled back, shyly. He turned Arad into the nearest loose box ,and followed the girl as she led him to the stall in which her horse stood, languidly, its head almost drooping to its knees. Running his strong, rough hand along the gelding's crest, Deorlin gently pulled the head upwards and pulled the lips back. Examing the gums, he noted dark spots, almost liver colored, around the teeth. His hand moved to the beast's eye and using his thumb to retract the ower eyelid, he noted the same dark brown coloring where normally a healthy pinkish tinge should be.

"Has he gone off his feed?" Deorlin asked the girl. "I think I might just know what's got into him - literally. Any chance that he's been into any walnuts lately?"

The girl looked quizzically at Deorlin and then at her mount.

"It's just a guess, mind you." Deorlin hurried to explain. "But walnuts are highly poisonous to horses, and often leave these tell tale blothches of brown on the gums and inner eyelids. See." He reopened the horse's mouth to show her. "I wish my uncle Daglan was here. He's the most knowledgable horse physic in the Westfold. By the way, I'm Deorlin. How did you know I was from Rohan?"

[Eruwen]

"Oh my, Carnil." said Eruwen. "Then it seems we have both had a very strange adventure---and somewhat similar also."

Eruwen looked around the inn anxiously. "Uh, pardon me," she said. "I'm going outside for a little while, uh, it's a little warm in here."

Noticing that it was still quite cool in the inn, Carnil nodded her head slowely. Eruwen carried her mug of beer over to the bar and set it on the counter. Quickly, she walked outside.

When she stepped outside the inn, Eruwen sat down on a small stone wall and looked up at the stars. Memories of the recent past came back to mind. After a short time had past, she stood up and started to walk back in.

When Eruwen's hand reached the door, a rustle was heard in the bushes behind her. She turned around quickly with bow in hand ready to defend. Eruwen looked around frantically but no one was there. "Hmmmm," she tought to herself. "Maybe it was just the wind."

Eruwen walked back inside looking back to make sure nothing was behind her. Although she did not see anything, she had a strange feeling that someone was following her. She walked over to the bar and ordered some water. Quietly, she sat once again listening to the commotion all around her but not trying to make eye contact with anyone.

[ December 13, 2002: Message edited by: Eruwen ]

[Coral]

Adonia awoke a few moments later from nodding off in her place. She wished the noise would stop, wanting peace she lept from her seat and pushed through the dense crowd, reaching for the door...
Suddenly she saw visions in her busy mind. A pack of wargs and wolves! Heading for the inn, she could feel their hot breath on her neck, their eyes searching the very depths of her soul. Then, Blood! Blood everywhere! The room was blood! Adonia new this kind of premonition very well, it was not the kind she would have liked.
"It will kill us all..." She whispered silently too herself. She knew she must tell someone, but who?

[Airerûthiel]

Airerûthiel slung the bow over her shoulder and returned the arrow to her quiver. Her hand strayed instinctively to the hilt of Minyacirith, and she kept her bowed head covered as she tried to hide in the half-shadows cast by the stables.

A figure emerged before the soft warm glow of the porch lamps, and Airerûthiel tried to wake herself up from the dream she thought she had surely fallen into. This was an apparition from her past; she could not believe he was truly real after spending so long trying to push the memory to the back of her mind.

Laitalathion had shoulder-length red-gold hair that shone like a halo of flame in the hazy backlight, and his cerulean eyes had more than a hint of sapphire about them. Clad in traditional Elven garb and with a longbow slung over his shoulder, one could have mistaken him for one of that kind at a fairly insignificant distance.

"Can it be...?" His eyes travelled to the Ranger who stood in the shadow of the stables. He took two paces forward and then one back, muttering to himself, "No, it cannot be! The house of Rocconinquë were slain long years ago - and yet one survived." His eyes strayed to her stained scabbard, where the crest of one of the houses of Gondor was in plain view. "Shadow of my childhood, if you be real, come into the light!"

Pulling back her hood and maintaining the direct icy stare that positively blazed with a slowly seething anger, Airerûthiel walked towards her cousin. "Laitalathion." Her voice was as cold and bitter as Midwinter morn; flecks of spittle that dripped black poison rolled off her tongue as she enunciated every syllable of the name. "Clearly your memory of a face from your past is up to scratch with that of your Elvish grammar. You have not come to this inn for its excellent ale, although 'tis widely known in these parts, and you are not as fine a player as you believe yourself to be. So why are you here before me, when the last I knew was that you had ridden to the lands of the Fair Folk, our mothers' kind?"

"A pity it is that the assassins left you alive, when all you ever did in our young days was read and spend time alone," Laitalathion replied, a smug expression upon his face. "Now if only they had saved one of your fair sisters, who had no time for lessons and would never cease talking..."

"Whilst I must confess that I am no doubt relishing this conversation of reminiscence over our younger days in Gondor, I asked you a question and you did not answer." Airerûthiel still did not release her blade's hilt, but she did relax her grip. "Have the years since we last laid eyes on each other been so long that you have forgotten common courtesy?"

"Indeed I did go west, to Lothlórien and to Mirkwood," replied the young male half-Elf, "and later did I settle in Rivendell. Whilst there my desire to wander the land grew once more, and so late one night some months ago I took one of the white palfreys of Elrond's house and rode east to Edoras. My heart desired greatly to return to my homeland in Gondor, but alas! my family is exiled from that fair country.

"Finding no comfort in gossip and falsehoods, I rode west once again to seek the counsel of the Lady Galadriel. I knew nothing of this place they call the Shire, but the name of The Prancing Pony was known to me. So I set out for Bree and spent some nights in that village. Then two nights ago I heard someone hold forth the tale of the Rocconinquë.

"'They say one of that kin still lives, mind,' said a wizened old man in the corner, who I noticed frequented the inn but did not speak if he could help it. 'A Ranger she is, and she seeks revenge on the ones that slew her family before her eyes.' I had only been half listening to the tale, but this talk made me listen.

"'The talk is a female Ranger with the sign of the White Horse on her scabbard was seen in these parts only last night,' replied the barman. 'She was heading westwards, but where exactly I know not.' On hearing this I then took my leave and rode without stopping until I came upon this inn.

"But enough of my tales! Let us go inside and I shall see if the ale is as good as you say. Old acquaintances become new friends where the fire is warm and the ale flows free, and tonight is one for tales of old and new. Come, let us go into this inn. My horse is stabled, and you have no reason to draw your weapon. I offer the hand of friendship."

A spasm of anger passed swiftly over the maiden's face, and then she sheathed her blade. The two childhood companions made their way towards the heavy oak door and walked in, bringing a cold blast of wind with them and letting a wave of delicious heat out into the night. All heads except two turned for a moment to take stock of the two in the doorway as a silence like the grave fell, and then the chatter broke out again all at once.

As Laitalathion went to get two pints of ale, Airerûthiel scanned the crowd. Her eyes fell on the lone traveller she had noticed before, who was now seated at a corner table with the one called Valeria, another whose face dimly registered in her mind. She noticed that they both wore identical rings, set with blood-red stones, as she walked towards their table.

"Forgive me for interrupting your conversation, my friends, but there are no places left anywhere in this inn. My cousin Laitalathion and I have journeyed long and hard, and we are weary. May we sit here at your table?"

[Gorothlammothiel]

Soronûmë has been in the stables some time now and they were beginning to become crowded, not only with horses. He led his horse, Salixrana, back out to the open, he was no horse to be kept in a stables. They were good friends, Soronûmë's only friend after the day he never saw his brother Ithallion again.
Soronûmë made way back to the inn's common room. He had heard beuatiful singing and music moments previously but there was no sign of the player or singer now. There was however a fair maiden in the doorway of the Inn again.
"Standing in doorways again m'lady?" he questioned with a smile. The maiden turned to him. Soronûmë had heard her being called Elwen before, when she was sitting up at the bar when he left to attend to Salixrana.

[piosenniel]

‘Don’t play coy with me, Elf! You know the one I’m talking about. That flighty one . . . the bird . . .’

Pio bit back a smile as she heard the old Hobbit speak these words. What would Bird think of this! To be remembered as a favored pet! The Elf took a deep drink from her cup, covering her amusement at the thought. At length, she set the cup carefully back on the table and composed her face into some semblance of serious consideration.

‘The bird you speak of is still alive, Amaranthas. But these days, she does not travel well, preferring to keep to the comforts of her own home.’ Amaranthas nodded her head at the sageness of this approach to the elder years. ‘Let the world come to your doorstep.’ she thought to herself. ‘Though,’ continued Pio, ‘she can be occasionally enticed out when the mood hits her . . . the occasional dish of ale, for instance, down at the local.’

The old Hobbit flashed her toothless grin at that, and raised her cup to the missing bird. ‘Now there’s a creature to my liking!’ she chortled. ‘This bird of yours and I would have gotten along well together.’

The Elf, a grin spreading on her face, nodded her head in agreement. ‘Oh, yes, Amaranthas! You two would have been quite the pair!’

Pio called for another plate of savories to be brought to the table, and poured Amaranthas another cup of wine. When the old dear had downed it, washing down several of the tasty morsels along with it, Pio prodded her memory with another question.

‘You spoke earlier of one named Gamba. What can you tell me of him? How did he fare?’ She waited as the elder took in the questions, rolling them around in her mind much as she had rolled the savories on her tongue before swallowing them. ‘Is there family of his in these parts, by chance . . .?’

[arelendil]

"Yes, spoke Elwen quietly," I seem to be doing it alot this evening if it is indeed the same one. The time passes strangely in this place."

Elwen smiled to the man who had talked to her, gently tossing her hair away from her face. "I am Elwen, the star maiden, as my name implies. Greetings and well met. I heard you singing earlier, you had a most beautiful voice. I was about to play my flute for the company gathered but remembering your talent from earlier, I don't think I will. There was only one who could ever play this flute, he the master and I the pupil, but he is gone and I have only this to remember him by until I am reunited with him." Elwen held out the silver flute for the man to see, gently her fingers danced along the length of it tracing the swirls of vines and leaves.

"May I ask your name? I heard you being called Soronûmë. Is that right? That is a name of a constellation of my people." Elwen began to walk away from the doorway scaning the room for somewhere to sit. "You see the wisest of my people are gathered together to guide the spirits tied to Arda, like I now am. Soronûmë is one of the oldest and brightest."

Elwen glanced over the man trying to decide whether the name suited him. It did, there was something about this man standing before her, something that she couldn't put her finger on, not yet anyway. There was a distinct elven quality about him, the way he held himself, or the way he spoke. Elwen was intersted to learn more about this mysterious man. Elwen could sense that he knew she was looking at him. She quickly glanced away, smiling to herself, her eyes flashing in the fire light.

"Have you travelled far?" Elwen questioned him.

[ December 14, 2002: Message edited by: arelendil ]

[Gorothlammothiel]

Soronûmë smiled at the maiden, "Indeed, I am Soronûmë, mae govannen star-maiden." He gestured to a table not far from the bar where Dwarin was talking to a young hobbit, and the two sat down.

"Yea Elwen" he spoke softly, "I have travelled far, though there is little to tell you of my journey for I know so little myself. I wander the lands, whichever they are for I am unconsious of their names. That is which I was never taught, for I was an outcast of my people, though they were not mine. The family I had did not belong to me, they were my brothers for he deserved them. His parents took me in, when I had no where else to go and they were all I knew" Soronûmë continued his tale whilst looking towards the open harth, Elwen, twirling strands of hair around her fingers, seemingly following every word.

"Those are the days I remember as clearly as a cool winters morn though those were the days most painful to remember. A loving family they were but they did never understand me, no one ever could. The only one who may was my brother but he too is gone now. I learnt very little from the people who cared and loved for me, little that is apart from a deep affection for them. My people they could never tell me of, it was to be my quest."

Soronûmë seemed pained to speak of such a time, but looked up to the maiden and forced a smile. He knew she would know other than that he showed but Soronûmë stopped his tale there and asked Elwen "This master you speak of, there is a tale there for you to tell. I fear mine is nothing but depressing and not for the ears of one such as you, deserving so more."

[zacattack]

Garvedon the elf walks in and mutters
"I know not one single person in this inn,it will make conversation very difficult indeed"

He walks up to the bar and patiently waits for the innkeeper to return to behind the bar.

"Yes what can I get you,Mr....?"the Innkeeper asks

"I am known as Garvedon,son of Garveron,and you are"Gavedon replies

"I am Dwarin the owner of The Green Dragon,and what would you like in my Inn"Dwarin says

"I would like some directions"replies Garvedon

"Directions to where my fair elf"Dwarin asks as he pours Garvedon a small jug of beer."Here you go"He says as he passes him the jug.

"I am travelling on a quest to seek a dwarf in the Blue Mountains"He says"Would you happen to be able to give me directions to them as I am hoping to leave in 4 days"

"Yes I am able to tell you were to go"Dwarin says as he pulls a map out of his pocket and leans over the counter to tell Garvedon where to go.

[AddictedtoRumil]

*Carnil gets up and goes to the bartender and gets another ale then returns to her seat and sits quietly*

[ December 14, 2002: Message edited by: AddictedtoRumil ]

[Eruwen]

Eruwen sat listening very intensely to all of the commotion around her. It was very loud in the inn. Many people came to the bar and left. Then one Elf came to the bar. He sat down and started talking to the innkeeper, Dwarin. She did not take too much notice to him, but his voice seemed to rise above the noise of the inn. She heard him say something about the Blue Mountains.

She turned toward the Elf. "The Blue Mountains?" she said suddenly. The Elf looked up from the map and at Eruwen. "Yes," he said not really sure of the question being asked him.

"You mean the same ones once called Ered Luin?" Eruwen answered. The Elf nodded. "I am traveling there as well---to see a family member of mine who traveled there many years ago."

Eruwen paused for a moment. "Uh, I mean, I'm sorry for intruding," she said. "I just overheard you say that to Master Dwarin here, and I was quite shocked to hear of someone traveling the same road as I. Not many around here are."

[Valeria, Witch of Angmar]

Valeria looks around at the suddenly crowded table and laughs. "What a change of fortune," she sighs. "And to think when I first arrived I thought I'd be spending all my time alone. Well, I suppose some introductions are in order. Everyone, Aireruthiel and her cousin Laitalathion," she gestures to the pair most recently arrived, "Derakis," a nod to the man beside her with a ring to match her own, "and Amron of Umbar." A final nod to the man sitting on her other side. "Everyone acquainted?"
She raises her head and manages to catch Dwarin's eye. He nods and begins filling two pitchers. "Well..." Valeria begins, then pauses. "It seems like we all should say something more about ourselves than our names...Shall I go first?"

[ December 14, 2002: Message edited by: Valeria, Witch of Angmar ]

[zacattack]

"Yes well I am hoping to find something of great value to me,a thing that a great craftsmen forged there long ago"He says

"You wouldn't mind introducing me to some others around here would you,I have never travelled here before"

"Not at all"Eruwen sats mystily

"Thanks"Garvadon replies standing up from the bar and draining his jug

[arelendil]

Elwen smiled softly. In her hand was still the silver flute,she placed it slowly on the table, a single silver tear trinkling down her cheek. Closing her eyes, she sighed and began her story.

"I was once a starmaiden, a daughter of the sky. My people and I watched over the spirits tied to Arda, guiding them as we saw fit." Elwen brushed the tears away with her hand. This was painful but she had found someone who would understand and she needed to tell.

"One day I caught sight of an elf, a spirit on Arda, his feet were swift and nimble, his hair soft and silver and eyes the colour of the green grass. When I first saw him I knew he had taken my heart. I could do nothing about it, except watch and wait. He travelled many paths upon this middle earth but I could do nothing but watch and follow him. I begged leave of my Leige Lord and he granted it. Then one night I was pulled from the sky and stood before my love. He had called me from the night to be beside him always. He gave me a name, for stars do not have names. He said it was 'Star maiden' in the high tongue, which indeed it is. Many paths did we walk together. We met friends on our journeys and brought them with us, one I miss dearly Nostawen was her name, but that is another story."

Elwen was putting much trust in this stranger but still she cotinued, pausing only to unfasten her cloak, placing it beside her. Her light spilled out, lighting the space around her. Elwen didn't care who was watching.

"Our journey took us from Ithilien, where I had met my love, to his homeland, Mirkwood it was once called. He desired a blessing from his father, a blessing on our union. It was his little joke for he knew that even if his father said no, we were joined anyway, for our spirits had been interwined at our first meeting. His father did say yes thought and we were bound together in elven tradition before his kindred. That is how I received this ring." Elwen held out her hand, a delicate plain silver ring was on one finger. It glowed not with the light of herself but a light all of its own, it shimmered with white light. Elwen smiled remembering happier days. "It was during our stay in Mirkwood that he began to teach me to play. Though he praised me for my skill, the flute was his and he the only one who could bend it to his will."

"When we left that realm we were to journey to the west and take the last elven ship across the sundering sea, or at least that is what the high queen Arwen Evenstar foretold at our meeting. We were to come to the shire for another traveller, a hobbit I believe but of what connection he was to our plans, I was never told. With me was a Dwarf, the Lady Nostawen and my love. We were travelling through the edge of the forest of Mirkwood, when a giant spider attacked us. I have had dealings with these spiders before, but that is again another tale to tell and one only slightly less painful. In the fight I was knocked unconcious and can tell you know more. The only trace I found of my companions was my loves silver flute, I have carried it everywhere with me. I know that my love would not desert me, so that is why I am here this was to be the next place that we were to stop at." Elwen glanced at the traveller and smiled.

"A long story, even in short and there is much that I have left out. Mainly of the happy times, for the telling is sweet but the reality after is hard to bare. Come now, I have told you of my past, there must be something you could tell me of yours?"

Elwen picked up the flute, holding it gently in her hand. But then she sighed and put it on top of her cloak and turned back to the traveller.

[ December 17, 2002: Message edited by: arelendil ]

[Eruwen]

Eruwen stood up and started to walk over to a table. "Follow me" she said. "I myself only know a couple here. I am quite new myself." She walked over to where Carnil was sitting still. "Hello again," Eruwen said to Carnil. "May we join you?" Carnil nodded at the now 2 new guests.

"This is Carnil." Eruwen said to the Elf. "And Carnil, this is, um, actually sir, I never did catch your name."

"'Tis Garvadon." he replied. "I am the son of Garveron."

"Ah yes, Garvadon." Eruwen said. A noise was heard at the window beside the table as wind blew against it. Eruwen sat up still as if she had been startled by something dreadful. She looked around but saw nothing unusual.

"Well, since you two are aquainted," Eruwen said. "I am sorry to say I must excuse myself for a moment. I---I must tend to my horse out in the stables. She gets very thirsty, you know." Eruwen stood up and went outside once more.

She walked over to the stables and stood by her horse, Mírie, in the shadows. She watched as people seldomly entered and left the inn. She started to feel uneasy in this quiet peaceful town. It was quite time for her departure. Without saying anything to anyone around, she mounted Mírie and road off quickly into the dark beyond leaving the beautiful Green Dragon Inn behind. Eruwen hoped one day she would come across this inn again.

[ December 15, 2002: Message edited by: Eruwen ]

[Raefindel]

A lone figure walked leading a great grey horse, the horse's limp obvious. The figure stopped and studied the green and gold sign swaying in the slight breeze and glittering in the lamplight. "The Green Dragon" it declared. "This will do" the figure said to herself.

Leading her horse around to the stables, the figure was met by a fair-haired Hobbit, wringing his hands and worring, "What a to-do! What am I to tell the Master?"

"Mae Govannen, Halfling. I am Raefindel." she said, pushing her hood off her auburn curls. "What seems to be the trouble?"

The stable-hand looked up seeing the Elf for the first time. "Good evening, Miss Raefindel. I'm afraid I'm in a bit of a fix; You see, Master Dwarin's saddle needs fixin' and the leather worker is out with a broken arm just now. Don't know what I'm gonna do, as I was to have had it repaired a week ago!" He said with a grimace and continued with wringing his hands.

"Well, now let me look at it." The Elf replied, running her slim hands over the leather. "We can't have the Master fretting over his saddle, now can we." She moved to her horse and removed a leather bag from among her things. "I happen to be skilled in leather-working, I will see to your Master's saddle, if you will see to my horse. He seems to have thrown a shoe."

The Elf withdrew an awl and some leather lacing from the bag, and set to work. When she finished she rose and quietly headed for the Inn.

It was loud and bright, and smoke drifted to her nostrils. She wrinkled her nose and walked to the Bar. "Mae Govannen," she said to the Dwarf behind the bar. " "I'll have tea and dinner please." He nodded as she found a table near a story-telling Elf. She listened as Elwen finished her tale. Then nodding to her, the red-head rose and said "Good Evening, Good people. I am Raefindel. I've become separated from my party in the wilderness and have decided to stay here at the Inn until I find news of them" She sat once more and listened to a song a pair of drunken Hobbits sang.

[ December 15, 2002: Message edited by: Raefindel ]

[Derakis]

Derakis had been sitting for a while, absorbing all of he saw and heard. Finally he spoke, "Well it seems it's my turn to tell my story. I am Derakis, and I come from the Rohan. My journey here has been a long one, though I do not know where I am going. My mother died a giving birth to my younger brother, and my father died 5 years ago defending our village from orcs. Since then I have wandered the lands, searching for knowledge…” He smiled “and a little adventure, too.”

[ December 15, 2002: Message edited by: Derakis ]

[Raefindel]

Greetings Derakis. I wonder if in your travels you may have heard news of my Kin? We were traveling from Rivendell on the Great East Road and were attacked by Wargs near the Baranduin. Many of my people were killed in the attack and I became lost from my Party.

[ December 15, 2002: Message edited by: Raefindel ]

[Sadbh]

Sadbh's forehead wrinkled as she considered the posibility. Had her horse gotten ahold of walnuts? She tried to remember if it could have been possible. Or maybe, the wood of the tree... Slowly, she gave a tentitive answer.

"Yesss... it might have been possible..." Her rpely was at most, unsure. "He was cribbing on a tree the other night, perhaps it was that..." Once more she racked her brain. "Yes, I'm almost sure." Pictures of the tree came back and she felt assured in answer, but fearful. "Is there anything that I could use to help him?" She wrapped her arms loosley around the gelding's withers.

Now Deorlin considered the possibility. Suddenly an Elfess appeared at the stable door leading a limping horse. She handed the reigns to a pale haired hobbit and strode to the inn. She thought it strange that an elf should be in the Shire. Then she supposed it was no stranger than she herself being in the Shire. She turned back to the pondering Deorlin and asked again, anxiously, "So did you thinkl of something?"

[ December 16, 2002: Message edited by: Sadbh ]

[Airerûthiel]

Dwarin places the two pitchers on the table and Airerûthiel pours her cousin a drink. "Derakis, when I first saw you I sensed the path that led you here was not unlike my own. I have walked the wilds of this lands for five years, following the slaughter of my family when I was just ten years old.

"My mother was of Elven kind; my father, a Man of Gondor. Outcast by their families, they settled halfway between Minas Tirith and the border with Rohan. You may have heard the name of my house in the legends that come around in inns like this every so often: Rocconinquë, the White Horse.

"We had a beautiful open-plan house with its own archery ground and stables - I had a horse of my own, Elenvendë, who was as swift as the wind and whom I loved dearly. As the outcast of my family I did not have many friends save Laitalathion and his brother Maikadurion; I preferred to spend my time reading and out roaming the land around my home by myself.

"Then one night five years ago I woke up to find myself being dragged from my bed by an Orc and into the Great Hall of our house. My elder brother and two younger sisters were already lying dead when I arrived there. Despite the fight I put up to break free from my captors, they bound me and then the leader of the Orcs raised a long knife to my throat.

"I was about to scream when my parents burst in, clad in full battle dress, their eyes shining with the spirit of war. My father charged into the fray; he managed to kill several of their number but was slain himself into the bargain and fell to the floor. I ran to his cold soulless corpse and wept salt tears for his sake; he had been my mentor and I still love him greatly. The Orc that had previously tried to slay me returned to finish his task as I lifted my father's sword and scabbard from around his waist and slung them around my own.

"I turned to see my mother crying, 'No!' and then speaking in her own tongue as the Orc ran her through with his blade. Her blood stained my father's scabbard and still does to this day. I drew Minyacirith and killed the Orcs using what grace had given my mother - I later learnt the words she spoke had allowed her gifts to pass to me and save my life.

"The Orcs put up a good fight though, especially their leader - he gave me my scars. The wounds healed long ago but deep in my heart the pain never stops; it is always there." She looks away as she reveals her injuries of times long past by pulling up her left sleeve, and the others notice a gash on her right cheek. She also has a scar that runs down the entire length of her left forearm.

"Then I dressed in black, chose a hooded cape and various trinkets to remember my family by, and rode west astride Elenvendë until I reached The White Horse Inn at Rohan. There I was forced to sell my horse and the rings and pendants and brooches valued by my house. I continued my journey on foot and have done so for the last five years. At first I sought revenge on the ones who murdered my family and all akin to them, but then I realised this had robbed me of my senses. So I continued my travels in Middle-earth, looking for knowledge but occasionally coming upon a little adventure too.

"But enough of my story! Valeria, I believe you have a tale you wish to tell us all? I for one would be glad to hear it."

[Deorlin]

Deorlin's brow creased in furrows of thought. Now what was it his uncle had used that one time . . . "Yes . . . yes, I believe there may be some help for him. At least he's not slobbering like an orc - yet! I'll try to mix up something - but the ingredients, I don't have any of them. Let's go to the innkeeper and see what he can provide."

Deorlin gave the sick horse a reassuring pat. "Don't worry, boy. We'll try our best!" He smiled at the young woman, but inwardly he groaned. Poisonings were always tricky, whether horse or human. And he had seen both. He retraced his steps to the inn, the girl trailing in his footsteps.

Entering the crowded tavern once more, Deorlin made his way to the bar and found an elvish looking female taking orders. "Excuse me, my friend here has a sick horse, and we were wondering if you had any of the things we need to physic it - salt, nettle, mint and molasses, or honey would do?"

"Let me ask Dwarin, the innkeeper. I'm sure we can provide the salt, mint and honey - but nettle? It's not a thing one normally keeps on hand to feed hungry travellers - or hobbits!" She turned and went into the kitchen. Deorlin spoke to his new companion. "Don't worry. It looks to me as if your horse isn't too badly off - he must not have eaten too much of the stuff. By the way, you still haven't told me your name, or how you recognised my homeland - or is it a big secret?" he grinned in a teasing manner. "I guess it's a good thing I'm not trying to act as a spy."

[Sadbh]

Sadbh smiled slowly. "It was quite plain where you were from when I saw that head of yours, but your accent was the first clue." She raised her brow. "I was in Rohan for a while, as I think I've said." She rubbed her cool hands together. "They made a generous gift of that gelding, who is quite a good animal when well." She added on an after thoguht, "I suppose all of the horses of Rohan are quite good mounts and companions."

"As for my name, I'm called Sadbh. I've been out on the road for quite some time, looking for, uh, travelers from Dale. They'd be wearing the royal standards, I think. You wouldn't happen to have seen them?" Her voice was hopeful.

[Gorothlammothiel]

Elwen told a touching story, and one that was familiar to Soronûmë. He could certainly relate to it, and now the maiden was asking for his. Soronûmë fell silent then smiled to the maiden, "Yea I believe it is my turn now m'lady. As yours my story is not that of happiness and it pains me to talk of my past but your story cannot have been easy to share, so here is mine..."

"My brother I spoke of earlier was not my brother by blood, though by everything else I considered him to be. You see, I grew up with a family other my own. I can't say why, I was too young to remember. I may have been abandoned or orphaned, but either way, a couple took me in and raised me as their own. They were the only family I have known. They had one son, Ithalion. He was older than me and acted as a guide to me in a strange land. He was a good friend and I had a great affection for him. We would travel great distances exploring lands.
However one winters morn, my brother Ithalion took himself off without telling his parents nor me. I became very worried for him, he had never gone without warning before that day. I went out into the woods to look for him but after several hours I became weary and took rest under a Willow tree. Resting my eyes I dreamt of a beautiful wild horse, deep grey in colour with a long flowing mane and tail. I approached the horse and it was suprisingly tame. He led me off into the mist of the morning, onto a clearing surrounded by tall trees with weeping braches, the morning dew still resting on the crisp grass.
I awoke under that tree, but I was no longer weary. It was in that clearing I found my brother lying still and cold on the ground. Ithalion's body was motionless but in his hand he held a single willow branch bearing two slender leaves. I took my brothers hand and laid it upon his chest and my heart fell heavy. As I moved his hand the willow branch twitched and one of the leaves fell upon Ithalion's heart. I raised my head to see the horse from my dream on the edge of the clearing.”
Soronûmë. was now very sorrowful, but determined to continue his tale. He told Elwen how he had taken Ithalion’s body back home and how he had refused to say anything about what had happened to his parents, living in silence for weeks. How he had seen the same wild horse every day since the death of his brother, which was still unexplained, and had named his Salixrana, willow-wanderer.
Eventually Soronûmë. finished his tale which culminated in his travels to the Green Dragon Inn and his meeting of several good friends.

[Coral]

Achae lurched forward with each bump the cart hit, the ride had been anything but pleasent since she had gotten on a few hours ago.
What lovely creatures these Hobbits were, she thought as she looked at her companions that night. They were very understanding of her situation and had almost immediately asked her too join them.
You see, Achae was just a simple girl of around seventeen, merely a child by many's standards. She was from Dale, the lake town, she had left to satisfy her thrist for adventure. Now she wondered if she had made the right choice, she thought she may have gotten too much adventure already.
"Ah, this is where I'll be getting off," exclaimed Achae as she lept off the horse-drawn cart," I'll leave you with a farewell and a thanks for your fine hospitality!" She gave a small smile trying to be polite, and watched as the cart left her in the road, surrounded by a cloud of dust...

[AddictedtoRumil]

Carnil is still sitting and looking around and at her empty mug of ale when suddenly she sees a mysterious elf walk in dressed all in black she takes a good look at his face and realizes who he is and she starts to pannick she quickly pulls her hood over her head and tries to hide her face from the elf the elf stares at Carnil and suddenly gets a glimpse of her face and goes after her

Carnil quickly gets up and runs from the elf and the chase begins the elf finally catches up to her and corners her and pulls down her hood and says "Carnil i knew it was you i told you, you cannot hide from me" and Carnil shouted back "Leave me alone!!" and Carnil punched the elf in the face and the elf then threw a white powder in her face and Carnil's world went black she collapsed on the floor in a deep sleep.

[DireLAnce]

A tall, lean figure wrapped in a black cloak, with the hood pulled up to cover his face, walks into the green tavern, heading almost instantly to the farthest corner, sitting silently. The hood turns silently, the only sign of the figure moving, and he keeps quiet, watching those around

[Valeria, Witch of Angmar]

Valeria smiles at Aireruthiel. "It's true, I do have a story and I think I have carried it alone for long enough."
She takes a sip of her ale to wet her throat, then begins.
"I was born north of here in the country known as Angmar, the same land that once belonged to he called the Witch King. My mother raised me in a hidden castle deep in the mountains. I never knew my father."

"My mother and the other women there, whom I learned were also witches, trained me in magic, swordplay and archery, as well as minor healing arts. It was a happy childhood, like living in a great house full of kind elder sisters...Then, three years ago, I woke up one morning and my mother was gone."

"I asked the other women where she was, but they would not tell me. Sometimes I wonder if they even knew. All they would say was that it was time for me to take my vows. I learned then what they had not told me about themselves and the place where we lived."

"Our castle was called the Citadel of the Twelve and the women were the Witches Twelve...now eleven with the departure of my mother. I was to swear an oath and take my mother's place. I was deathly afraid, but I swore...and now I am the last of the Twelve."

"You see, the witches had felt a darkness stirring, especially in the northlands. They wanted to fight it, but knew not how. The idea came upon them to forge a blade with which to attack the darkness, and into that blade they infused their magicks and their very souls."

She pauses in her tale, fingers absently running over the hilt of her sword.
"They chose me to wield the blade, and gave their lives that I might protect the lives of others. I left the Citadel that day and have not been back since. I traveled the land, doing what I could. When I could stand the road no longer, I found my way here, hoping for some warmth and companionship."
She smiles at the other seated around the table. "And my hopes were answered. I thank you for letting me tell my story. It has been kept for time enough."
She reaches for her mug, the red gem on her finger glimmering in the light. It did not escape the notice of those around her than she never once mentioned her ring.

[DireLAnce]

he listens silently to the others telling their stories, and removes his hood with an idly flick of his hand. his face is of a lean human's, with a scar over his right eye, most liely from s sword. he has a small golden stud in his lower left ear, with a thin gikd chain runnign to a clamp on the upper ear. He settles visibly, seeing no swords drawn, or glances in his direction

[the witch king]

Amron had been siting, siping his ale and smokeing his pipe listening closely to the tales of his new companions. He realised that there eyes now turnd to him, and were politely wateing for his tale.
"Well" he said "I gess its time to tell my tale" he looked down at the floor ther was an uncomfortable silence and then he began, "My tale begins in the far south, past the lands of Rohan and Gondor, in the mighty haven of Umbar. I was born in to a powerful family, at one time we had ruled Umbar and all the lands near by, that was until the dark lord returnd, and long years of war with our kin in the north desimated our once noble city." at this point Amron seemed to have an ashamed look an his face, "Many was the time that I sailed at the head of a radeing party, pludering, burning, and killing all up the cost of Gondor. You see from an early age I was told of the land of Numenor were my people came from, and I was told that the men of Gondor where decended from the rebels who betrayed the king to the total distrution of that blesed island. When I was in my 25th year a messenger from the dark lord came to my aged father commanding him to lay down his position as lord of the city of Umbar, my father was a proud man and he refused as he was lord by right of heritage. Nothing more was heard of it and I left the very next year, on yet another rade with the men of Harad our allies, when I returnd I found my family murderd and Umbar being ruled by a lap dog of sauron, at first I thort of nothing but revenge and started an uprising weth what was left of my household, but the power of Mordor quickly put it down." Amron now looked up with a strange look in his eyes a deep fire seemed to burn within them. "I had to flee from my beloved city. I came to the land of Gondor and there found the truth, that far from being desended from treacherous rebels, they were noble and good, the only thing standing between freedom and the total victory of the lord of Mordor. I repented for my sin's against the peoples of Gondor befor the seat of the steward of Minas Tirith and told him of all that knew that could help him and his people in ther struggle with Mordor. I lived in that city for a while but i soon set out, wandering the lands of middle earth looking for companionship and adventure." He looked around, an uncomfortable silence came over the group again 'this is why I dont tell my tales to often' he thort to him self as he rased his pipe to his lips.

[ December 17, 2002: Message edited by: the witch king ]

[ December 17, 2002: Message edited by: the witch king ]

[Airerûthiel]

Laitalathion has been listening to his new-found companions' tales and the unspoken words that pass between them; he has noticed that Derakis seems angered at Airerûthiel, and cannot help noticing the similarities in their tales. Realising the others are waiting for him to speak, he begins his story.

"Mine is not a tale of woe and sorrow and loss as so many of these are," he said, conscious of every word he speaks lest he should anger any of his companions. "Mine and Airerûthiel's mothers were sisters - that is how we are kin. I remember little of my childhood before my parents' deaths - my father was killed in a random warg attack when my brother Maikadurion and I were just two years old, and four years after that my mother eventually passed into the Grey Havens due to her broken heart. We went to live at the house of Rocconinquë following that, as there was no-one else willing to take us in."

The looks on his companions' faces ask the question of why he lives. "It must have been not long before the Massacre of the White Horse when Maikadurion and I ran away to the west; we had always felt we were accepted but unwanted in Airerûthiel's father's house and seen as a inconvenience that had to be tolerated due to the blood that flowed in our veins. So we decided to learn more of our mother's people and headed for Lothlórien, and then on to Mirkwood. Although the Elves we met were hospitable and friendly people, we still felt like we had since we were just six years old - unwanted and unaccepted.

"So we decided to turn back east, and settled in Rivendell for some time, where we met with the same reception. Then around six months ago we heard an Elf-maiden singing the Ballad of the Rocconinquë as we walked in Rivendell, and it made me ponder what had happened to the only family I ever really knew. We took two white palfreys and continued on the road east back to Gondor. When we tried to enter that fair land, they asked our names and we were refused entry - apparently they had discovered that my father had committed treason against the Steward of Gondor and all his line would never return to that land. Maikadurion was angered greatly at this and rode away into the wilds of Rohan. I know not if he still lives.

"Now alone, I returned to Edoras to seek the truth behind the legend of the White Horse, but found only gossip and falsehoods, which gave no comfort. So I continued west back to Lothlórien, where the Lady Galadriel gave me her good counsel. I knew not of this place called the Shire, but the name of Bree echoed distantly in my mind. And two nights ago, in the inn of the Prancing Pony, I heard the rumours that a female Ranger whose scabbard bore the badge of the White Horse had been seen heading west of there.

"I rode hard until I came upon the Green Dragon and found my cousin standing outside near the stables. The rest you know."

[arelendil]

"A strange tale my friend." whispered Elwen softly more to herself than to Soronûmë. "If I may how long ago was your brother killed?"

Elwen bowed her head, the curls of dark hair hiding her face and the white gems flashing as she moved. Elwen flicked her hair back before continuing. "How long have you been here? You seem to know the ways of these people well, do you know many in this pub? I am eager to learn anything that you would teach me. My stay here maybe long, for I can not leave until..."

Elwen couldn't continue. Stories were one thing, they ran though the head like dreams, short lived and surpressable. But reality was harder to mention. Questions swirled in Elwens head, about her past, about this travellers past and about the future. All of them too painful to think about for long. Elwen gently shook her head trying to escape the voices that spoke to her, trying to quiet them and find peace somewhere. The tears began to gather, silver and gold in the fire light, they trickled down her cheeks. Elwen searched desperately inside for a memory that would stop her thoughts from running around inside her head and give her a moment to think.

Elwen found it. A smile blossomed on her lips, making her eyes dance and her light glow brighter. She sighed content once more to have pushed away the sorrow that followed her. Elwen gentle wiped her eyes and smiled to Soronûmë. What was it about this spirit that put her so at ease. She hardly knew him yet there was something...
The thought was gone, the answer had been so near, within Elwen's hand but it had faded and now nothing was left.

"I'm sorry," whispered Elwen looking at Soronûmë puzzled, the smiled not vanishing with the thought. Elwen gently shook the waves of hair, setting her thoughts back in order. Her ring sparkled as she set it back down on the table and looked to Soronûmë for a reply to her earlier questions.

[ December 17, 2002: Message edited by: arelendil ]

[Deorlin]

Deorlin searched Sadbh's face intently, wondering what was causing the obvious anxiety that shadowed her features. More than the worry over her horse. He was a little surprised to hear that the horse actually came from Rohan. It did look a fine animal, even though sickened. But for an "outsider" to be given a Rohhirim mount, animals usually regarded more as part of the family than a beast of transport, was highly unususal. This girl must have won the respect fo his people in quite a way!

"Travellers from Dale?" Deorlin titlted his head to one side a little and pondered her query. "Well,in fact, it's been little over a month since I was last in that fair land. I had business with the royal court, so I am familiar with the roayl crest and colors. But . . . no, I haven't seen anyone from those lands, royal or otherwise, since I departed, with the exception of yourself. Why do you seek them?"

From the look on Sadbh's face, he could see that he had overstepped the bounds of their acquaintance by asking that last question. "No matter, I should be concentrating on that horse of yours." He tried to pass lightly over the awkward pause. "Nettle is easy enough to come by. It seems to grow everywhere around these parts, I've noticed. Why don't you wait here to see if the innkeeper can provide the other things and I'll step out and have a look around behind the stables and see if I can spot some of the weed."

[smile]

Walks into the inn..looks around..is soooooooo lost heads for the corner to sit and see what she can hear. smilies/frown.gif

[AddictedtoRumil]

Carnil opens her eyes and stands up noticing that the dark elf is gone which she hopes he is gone for good and she takes a seat in the corner by the window and brushes her hair and quitely sings 'The Lament for Gandalf' Carnil is growing bored and to entertain herself is watching the people that exit and enter the inn.

She glances outside and is relieved to see that her horse is still there she goes up to the bar to get another ale and goes back in the corner and sits alone trying desperately to entertain herself.

[ December 17, 2002: Message edited by: AddictedtoRumil ]

[DireLAnce]

He listens to the tales told with interest, especially that of Valeria and her sword. However, when he sees the ring upon her finger, his eyes narrow, and he tilts his head, as if pondering something about the ring. Then, with a shake, his eyes take on their usual disinterest, and he lays back, hoping it is not what he thinks.

[AddictedtoRumil]

Carnil's brother Calaglin enters the inn and takes a seat by his sister and says "Hello sister you and i have a urgent matter to attend to we must leave at once!" "Where will we go?" replies Carnil "Come with me and you will see" Calaglin takes his sister by the hand and leads her out of the inn.

Calaglin and Carnil both get on their horses and head east to Rohan.

[zacattack]

"I must hurrry If I am to seek out what I'm looking for"Garvedon says quitly to himself.

He walks up to the bar and says to Dwarin

"I will be here one night only and then I must leave"

"That can be arranged,you are in room 23 and here is your key"Dwarin says handing him a small brass key"

"Thank you for you hospitlality"Garvedon replies

[Valeria, Witch of Angmar]

Valeria lets the tales of the others wash over her. She feels a strange bond with these people, as if the pain in their pasts somehow unites them. As she refills some of the mugs that were beginning to grow empty, she recalls how short Derakis's story was and cannot help but wonder if he was hiding something. Then her eyes fall on her ring and smiles wryly to herself.
If indeed he left out something, he was not the only one.

[Airerûthiel]

Airerûthiel has had an increasing sense of feeling as though she is not wanted here any longer as her cousin tells the story of how he came to the Green Dragon. 'I thought this place was different,' she muses to herself. 'Clearly, I was wrong. Without a family and a home, I am truly nothing - even if that family is the legendary White Horse.' She appreciates that her thoughts are painting a bad picture of what seems to be a genuinely hospitable crowd of people, but still she drains her pitcher and stands up.

"Friends, my time among you is greviously short; I desire to stay here much longer than I can. Derakis, I sense I have offended you, and I can assure you this was not intentional. But your tales are fascinating, and mayhap one day the paths of our guiding stars will cross once more. Cousin, the time I have spent here with you has not been enough, but I believe that I shall see you all again one day. Now if you will excuse me, I must away."

She pulls up her hood and almost runs towards the door and out into the night, where a bitter wind has begun to get up. Mounting Sérë, the grey horse she only recently managed to obtain, she heads east and does not look back at the welcoming lights and her new-found friends, who sit in silence as their companion's sudden departure impacts - or fails to - on them.

[Gorothlammothiel]

Soronûmë watched as Elwen collected her thoughts. He pondered his own for a moment, deciding how to answer the maiden's questions. Finally he spoke, "My brother hath been gone for but a year now. I did not stay at home for long after I brought his body back, I could not. Salixrana and I have been travelling for many a month, travelling strange and distant lands. We arrived here to the inn only last week, and since I have spoken to very few. I had befriended Amron, a true gentleman though not of many words. However we did not speak again after he was taken off to the kitchen by the Barrow Wight over there. Eruwen was the other. She was young but troubled. She too had her quest, travelling to the mountains to seek the last member of her family, her grandmother." Soronûmë's spirits had seemingly lifted as he continued, "I sang with talented musician, Sarah I believe was her name, which I gather you heard. Then I met you Elwen. You are the only one who has enquired about my life, my history and the "mystery" about me. Other than that I know very little of the people's gathered in this inn, though I could tell you a few more names."

[Derakis]

Derakis smiles at the group. "It seems you are not easily fooled. I understand your doubt of my story and you all know i have left something out. Indeed I have. Like Airerûthiel, I have wandered the countryside hunting and defending people from orcs. I have done this in the hopes that I can prevent tragedies like those that happend to Airerûthiel and I from happening to anyone else. A few days ago I ambushed a small group of three or four orcs making camp near the river Baranduin. When I attacked to my suprise and shame, I found these orcs were part of a MUCH larger hunting party of 30-40. I killed a few of them, and then ran. They have been on my trail for the last few days, but I belive I have put them behind me." He shook his head "I hope."

[Sadbh]

"Fair enough." She nodded softly. "Thank you for all of your assitance." She gave another deeper nod of her tawny head as Deorlin walked back out of the crowded inn. She sighed quietly, dissapointed at Deorlin's reply. Perhaps after she had atleast attemptedto help the poor animal she could ask around the inn a bit.
But for now she must concentrate on the horse.

Soon enough, the woman who had taken their rather odd request for the ingredients returned, arms filled with various jars and bottles. "Here you are. Mint, honey, and salt." Sadbh smiled and gave the woman some copper coins to cover the cost.

"Thank you kindly." She slipped the various items into her satchel and brushed nimbly out of the inn, crisp night air tinging her breath milky white. She tilted her face to meet the moon, gently picking her way through the shrubbery and brush. In the darkness, she could see fairly well. She percieved Deorlin bending over a crop of nettles and breezed over to him.

"Thank you again for your help." The shortness of the young woman was elaborated by a nod of the head. "I feel sorry for that horse, as its stuck with me." She gave a half smile in the dark.

[DireLAnce]

He tilts his head, watching Valeria, then stands silently, and walks up behind her, tilting his head to look at the ring on her finger "you seem to have left out something in your story ms..." He smiles, flexing his guantleted hands under his cloak.

[Coral]

Achae dusted herself off and looked to the warmth of the Green Dragon. It was the inn recommended to her by one of her Hobbit companions whom she had spoke with during the long ride to the Shire. As she trodded along through the road, she sighed, "Why ever leave my home?" she asked herself, this wouldn't be the first time either. Achae stumbled into the stable, and peered at her unfamiliar surroundings. She gently patted one of the horses foreheads and sang silently to herself. A song that her mother had taught her so many years ago. Looking around once more, she noticed a familiar face that she hadn't before.
"Sadbh?"

[Valeria, Witch of Angmar]

Valeria stares in shocked silence at Aireruthiel's abrupt departure. She longs to say something, but cannot find her voice. She had felt deeply the grief in the woman's story and had wanted to speak with her further, but now that was impossible as the door swung closed.
She half-hears Derakis's explaination: orcs, many of them, possibly still following him. As she tries gather her thoughts, a stranger appears at the table, asking her name and looking pointedly at her ring. She stiffens, hand clenching around her sword hilt. "I am called Valeria," she replies, perhaps a bit more shortly than she intends. "And I know not what you mean, sir, demanding my past when you don't know my present. If you'll forgive me, I think my tale was complete enough as it was."
The stranger smirks, gives a nod and returns to his seat in the coner. Valeria can feel his eyes still on her.

[arelendil]

Elwen notices the change in tone of Soronûmë voice, however slight, as he speaks of singing. She laughes gentle.

"So my friend, I can hear in your voice that you take pleasure in singing. Maybe you would like to try my flute. It would fill my heart with joy once more to hear it played and I can see that great talent is hidden within you."

Elwen picks up the small silver flute from atop her folded elven grey cloak. It feels cool and reasureing to the touch, like soft snow after it has fallen. Elwen extends the flute to Soronûmë, smiling softly and longing to hear it played once more. Finally she has found one who could play the flute with the same talent as she had once hear it played, Elwen could tell.

[DireLAnce]

DireLance smiles at Valeria from his seat "Aye, your tale was complete... but you seem to have left outthat little bauble on our finger... and they are animportant part of life, don't you think?" He grins, removing his right guantlet, and holding his hand to the light. On it is a ring, with a jet black stone that seems to drain away the light near it.

[the witch king]

Amron glared across at the strange who had just made a comment on Valerias ring, "it may be courteous togive an acount of your self stranger,but it is unwise to tell all especially with so many people listening in." He glanced at a man standing near by who quickly turned away. "Now, i think you should either turn round and finish your ale or come pull up a chair and tell your tail." Amron looked over to Valeria "i dont like the look of this man" he whispered to her "be cautious"

[the witch king]

Amron looked over at the man "No, i speak to the stranger who asks about my friend Valeria's ring," he took a long draw from his pipe "but if you would like to come talk with us feel free." With that Amron siped from his ale 'so many people' he thort 'and to think, i thort id spend my time hear sitting alone in a shadowy corner.'

[the witch king]

"I am Amron, i come from the city of Umbar, this is Valeria, Derakis, Aireruthiel and Laitalathion," he said pointing to each in turn "and you are? We have just given some account of our selves would you wish to tell us of you self?"

[piosenniel]

Dwarin had been called away on some bit of Dwarvish business, or so he had said to Piosenniel when he cleared away the remains of her guests' drinks and plates. He had looked her over, taking in the way she sat at ease in her chair, noting how even at her most relaxed there was an air of alertness with which her eyes swept the room, and how her body shifted in the chair imperceptibly as the possibility of brewing danger or threat was noticed.

He'd asked her if she had any knowledge of Inns and their running. She laughed merrily, dark glimmerings playing in her eyes, as she recalled 'jobs' she had taken to fill her oft lean purse in her wanderings.

'I have some experience with such things. Other than just my forays into ale and wine tasting, and my skill at draughts and darts, that is.' She winked impishly at him. 'Why do you ask?'

He needed someone to step in for a while, and she said she would be glad to. It would be a pleasant diversion between voyages on the Lonely Star. And so that was how she found herself ordering spirits for the Inn on the one hand and serving drinks to the patrons on the other.

She had just delivered some flagons of the Dragon's finest to a table of passing Dwarves, when she overheard a man speaking of the siege of Gondor.

'Man of Gondor! Marithorn, is it not? Please, I have friends in Minas Tirith. What news do you have of the city? How has the foul shadow fallen now on fair Gondor?'

[ December 19, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[the witch king]

Amron looked down, when he looked up his face was grim, "war pressis closely on the men of Gondor I fear that the walls of Minas Tirith will not stand for alot longer."

After a short silence Amron turned to Marithorn "Do you know if the men of Umbar still fight under the dark lords banner?"

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami Goodchilde came scampering into the Inn, running up to the bar where Piosenniel was doling out drinks. When the Elf saw the hobbit, she stared in amazement. "But I thought you'd retired to the early Third Age? Aren't you supposed to be with the hobbits on the Anduin? I was just talking about that with another hobbit friend."

Cami grinned and shook her head, "That's a long story!"

Somehow, that disclosure did not surprise Piosenniel. Most stories connected with Cami generally turned out to be long ones.

"I've cleaned up the situation in the Anduin, and left my son Gamba in charge."

At this, Pio struggled to keep a straight face. Gamba was known for his talent at getting into scrapes and scuffles. Putting Gamba in charge of anything would be risk indeed!

"I heard there's an opening here for an assistant Innkeeper. I'm not too good at serving drinks, but I'm a wicked cook and have been known to wash a dish or two in my day as well as tidying up the rooms where the guests stay overnight. Perhaps, I could give you a hand?"

At this point, before Pio could answer, Cami began striding around the main bar room, introducing herself to one and all, and promising to tell a story later on, once everyone had assembled for the evening."

Before the Elf could stop her, the hobbit had offered free drinks to many, and brought out several large platters of mushroom stew "compliments of the house."

As Cami dished up the stew, she added, "If any would like to tell me a tale about their ancestor or kin, there'll be a free steak and kidney pie in it for you. Who'll go first?"

In the meantime, the guests resumed their somber conversation on the wicked state of affairs in Middle-earth, and the Shadow that seemed to be creeping over everything in sight.

[ December 20, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[DireLAnce]

The stranger smirks, pulling up a chair, sitting a little distant from the group. "Ay... i must apologize, ms... i was rude, but your ring interests me. I no longer have a name, but Dire Lance will suffise. A home i have not, so i wander idly. Recently this business of the dark army and all has made me long for a bit more peaceful places; that's why i ended up here. Unfortunately, my past isn't some lovely tale for you to hear..." He holds up the ring to the light. "Mainly, it involves this little bobble, and a nice little group of orcs who decided a young man was a good toy." He leans back idly. "That was a long time back... I was just leaing a nice little village, when i came upon the band of orcs in the woods... i was quite as skilled then; needless to say, i more walked into them then the other way around. They chased me a good distance, and i have to admit, i was completely lost. Eventually i tried to hide from them in a small cave. I hid as far back as i could, but apparently i wasn't hidden enough. They entered the cave, and i tried to hide further.... that's when i found this little gem... after that, i don't remember; all i know is, i walked out, and they didn't. The next thing i can remember is being a good distance away, covered in orc blood, a sword haft in hand, and this scar on my eye. Since then, i've never looked back, and never tried to go back, going as far from fighting as i can.... and, that's it." He shrugs, eyeing Valeria's ring still.

[AddictedtoRumil]

Carnil(me)enters the Green Dragon with her brother Calaglin and they take a seat giggling "I can't believe that i fell for another one of your tricks dear brother ride to Rohan as if!" and Calaglin laughed and said "Sorry i knocked you off your horse like that sister but i could not resist" "Yes just like how i could not resist to pull your hair brother" replied Carnil "Sister bring me a pint i am thirsty." "and what do i look like your slave?" "You are today sister" "Well whatever." and Carnil walked up to the bar to get herself and her brother a pint.

[Mithadan]

The door opens and a preternatural cold fills the room. A figure cloaked entirely in black enters the Inn. He pulls back his hood, revealing a ghoulish skull from which hang shreds of skin and muscle. His eyes are burning red orbs.

The room falls silent except for some hushed whispers. "A Wight! One of the Barrow-Wight's administrators!"

He looks about for a moment, then his gaze settles upon Aragorn2002 and the Witch King. He smiles companionably (or thinks he does for he has no lips to speak of). Then he speaks with a hiss.

"Welcome to the Barrow-Downs and the Green Dragon Inn, Aragorn2002 and the Witch King. Here you may introduce yourself and your characters to others and seek out an adventure to join or tell a tale if you wish. But this is not the place to engage in conversations, especially with posts made up only of a line or two. For that you may use PMs or our chatroom (linked to our splash page at www.barrowdowns.com (http://www.barrowdowns.com)). And here are some of our rules. The rest are posted in the Redbook of Westmarch..."


2. Write in complete sentences and in paragraph form. Each post that you make should be at least two paragraphs in length with each paragraph made up of at least two sentences (there are times when a one-line post is appropriate but this should be rare). Separate the paragraphs with a space. This makes your posts easier to read and more enjoyable for everyone. When a character speaks, his or her words should go between quotation marks.



and

8. Listen to the moderators. They are trying to help.

He voice rose to a screech until the glasses shook and clinked on their trays. "Enjoy yourselves but keep the Rules in mind lest I or another moderator return to haunt you for the rest of your days!"

With that, he swept out of the room. Some of the customers noted that his bony feet did not touch the ground. "A bit theatrical, don't you think?" commented Piosennial sardonically.

[ December 19, 2002: Message edited by: Mithadan ]

[AddictedtoRumil]

Carnil returns to the table and sits next to her brother and hands him his pint and takes a sip of her own and nothing is said for a moment until Carnil breaks the silence "So..are you still thinking of going to the Grey Havens?" and her brother looks her in the eye and says "Yes i have made my decision" and Carnil looks at her brother and says "And the decision is?.." and her brother laughs and says "I am not going sister." and Carnil smiled brightly and hugged her brother. "I am so glad your staying!!" and after hours of chatting her brother stood up and said "The hour is late i must go i will see you tomorrow sis namarie" and Carnil waved at her brother and said "Ok namarie."

Then Carnil took a seat in the corner and started to hum a tune and looked around the room and then at her empty mug. She went up to the bar and got another ale and sat quietly drinking her ale.

[VanimaEdhel]

Estelarion and Menelduliniel looked around the Inn.

"I am bored," Menelduliniel stated, simply.

"What?" Estelarion said, turning to her, surprised.

"You heard me," she said.

"Well...well..." Estelarion stuttered, "What do you expect me to do about it?"

"Nothing," Menelduliniel said, "I am going for a walk."

With that, she stood up and exited the Inn. Estelarion sat that, looking after her, stunned. When he collected himself, he stood up and ran after her.

"Are you okay?" Estelarion asked, as they walked on the street.

"Of course," Menelduliniel said, "I just wanted to see some of this area."

"Okay," Estelarion said.

They walked in silence for a good while, looking around at this new, peaceful-seeming land...

[AddictedtoRumil]

Carnil grows bored and finishes her pint and then walks outside for some fresh air and pulls the hood over her head. She stands outside and looks around the night air feels cool on her skin and she relaxes.

Carnil eyes are still gazing around with interest as most elves do and she eyes a man standing not too far from her gazing at the sky (Marithorn). She approaches him and pulls down her hood and says "You look very familiar...allow me to introduce myself i am Carnil an elf from Imladris and you are?..."

[AddictedtoRumil]

Carnil faces Marithorn "That is too bad that you city is under siege." Carnil pauses at the sound of a rustling near the bushes and then looks back at Marithorn.

"I came here just to see what it would be like i have never been anywhere out of Imladris before." Carnil gazes around the area and then continues speaking "This place looks so different at night i hope you find who you are looking for."

[Derakis]

Derakis had been sitting quietly, half-listing to the conversations that go on, but as he hears of the siege of Minas Tirith, he pays particular attention. He is grieved to hear the desperate situation of the White City.

He interjects himself into the conversation. “Once long ago, I could have said that the Riders of Rohan will support Gondor in all it’s battles, but alas, those days are gone.”

[ December 20, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Aragorn2002]

Save for re-worked post of Aragorn2002

[ December 20, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]
________
CHEVROLET CORVETTE C5 Z06 (http://www.chevy-wiki.com/wiki/Chevrolet_Corvette_C5_Z06)

[The Barrow-Wight]

The Barrow-Wight stepped forward and, using their own poor methods agains them, told the chat-RPGers to start writing up to the written standards of the Shire or they would be reprimanded immediately.

He stepped back, keeping a close eye on those he accused and waiting to see if they got his message. To while away the time, he began to polish his right boot, smiling as he realized his post was nothing like theirs and had fulfilled the very basic ideals of writing in The Green Dragon and The Shire.

[ December 19, 2002: Message edited by: The Barrow-Wight ]

[Valeria, Witch of Angmar]

Valeria listened carefully to Amron's words. "I have no reason to trust him," she admitted, "but I have no reason not to. I will hear him out and past judgement on him then."

She took note of Dire Lance's story; A strange name, she muses, but I have heard stranger in my travels. She notices him looking at her ring again and examines his from the corner of her eye. She felt as though she'd heard of such a ring before, but could not summon up a name and so pushed the thought aside.

A Wight entered and made a small speech which turned everyone's heads for a time, then talk turned to Gondor and the siege of the White City. Valeria's ears pricked up at the name and she saw Derakis's interest as well. It appeared as though battle loomed on the horizon for Minas Tirith.
Are you there, beloved? she wondered silently. Have you gone to battle there, or am I just chasing a ghost?

Almost as the thought finished passing through her head, the Barrow Wight spoke up for the first time in a long while. She smiled at the smug expression he wore, as her fingertips traced the stone in her ring.

[ December 20, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Derakis]

Derakis nods to Marithorn. “Indeed. I come from a village just south of Edoras. I lived there with my father and younger brother until five years ago. My father was a Rider of the Mark, and during an attack on our village by orcs, he died defending it. I left my brother there, since he began to serve as a Rider as my father had, and I wandered the wilderness, hunting and defending people from orcs.”

He smiled sadly. “I wanted to ensure that the tragedy that befell my father never happened to anyone else. I know now that I can’t save everyone, and that terrible things happen, despite all our efforts. But the real important thing is making an effort.” He shook his head. “I apologize. I have got off on my own little story.”

[ December 20, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[DireLAnce]

Dire smirks, making a half bow to Valeria "Aye, no better words have ever been said on trust then those.." He grins slyly, winking and lowering his voice to a whisper. "And, for a spot of funding or a pint of ale, i can be very trustworthy... i may avoid the war with darkness, but death and i be no stranger... you'll not find one more skilled than i in that little dance without searching long and wide; and i'm willing to bet you'd still end up back here talking to me...."

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

Dire--

Please check your Private Messages (PM's).

[ December 20, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Deorlin]

Deorlin turned at Sadbh's approach and rose, towering a good two heads above the girl. She extended her hand and offered him the stachel. Taking the bag he peered inside. "Did they have all we asked for?" he queried. "Yes, and I see you've found the nettle." Sadbh replied.

"It wasn't hard." Deorlin chuckled. He held up a fistful. "Now, let's find a bucket. I'm not sure of the exact proportions, but we can try." He led their way back to the stable. Sadbh produced the half of a small candle, and by it's faint glow they found an empty pail. Deorlin dipped some water out of a rain barrel at the corner and proceeded to pour in the salt, then crushing up a handful of mint and the handful of nettle and adding them to the pail. lastly, he added all of the honey, hoping its sweetness would hide the unusual taste and coax the horse to swallow what he hoped would be a cure for the assumed poison. So many "ifs" he mused.

"Pat his neck and speak to him softly, Sadbh, and we'll see if we can get him to swallow this lot." Deorlin instructed. As the girl tried her best to sooth the animal, the young Rohhirim placed his hand under its jaw and pried the mouth open with his thumb. Using his arm to lever the head upwards, he quickly poured the contents of the pail as best he could into the mouth, then clamped his hand over the horse's nostrils, vaguely remembering that in this way his uncle had been sucessful in getting horse to swallow unpalatable tastes. Half of the mixture had not even made it into the horse's mouth, but Deorlin hoped enough had gone in to do the trick. After a few seconds of surprised indignation, the horse swallowed with a reassuring gulp.

"Well, I guess that's the best we can do for now." Deorlin tried to sound confident. "Let's go in and have something to eat ourselves. At least I for one could use a wet ale and some hot food. "

[Sadbh]

With a final pat of the horse's neck, Sadbh turned and nodded at Deorlin. "And what other kind of ale is there beisdes a wet one?" She laughed faintly at her mild joke. As they walked down the stables, she heard a familiar voice crooning a song from Dale. Interested, she concentrated her vision to see better in the light of the pale candle stub.

"Sadbh?" She heard a familiar voice inquire.

"A- Achae?" Sadbh's own soft voice filled with slow wonder and confusion. "Achae, what are you doing away from Lake Town?" Her eyes clearly showed surprise that her aquaintance was away from her homeland. "I certainly didn't expect to meet you! How is your family?" Her voice was now clearly pleased that she should meet own of her fellow countrymen.

"Come into the inn with us! We were just going in for a pint and a bite." Deorlin smiled at the other young woman.

Sadbh spoke to both as they stepped out again from the stables into the brisk air.
"Achae, this is Deorlin of the Westfold. He's a horseman, like all his kinfolk." She took a breath and continued as she opened the smooth handled door. "And Deorlin, this is Achae. She comes from Dale, as do I. I had no idea that I would run into any from my home." The three stepped into the warming atmosphere of the Green Dragon. As Deorlin took a long stride ahead, Sadbh asked Achae hopefully, "Achae, you know the prince, don't you? You haven't... seen him?" Her tone was pained.

[ December 19, 2002: Message edited by: Sadbh ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

The small hobbit Cami stood by the board valiantly trying to read everyone's post. She adjusted her spectacles on her nose, and strained her eyes, for indeed she was having an awful time.

She shook her head and moaned, "I am no Elf who has the gift of far seeing, and who can spot a scout faring some five miles away. I am a poor and elderly hobbit whose eyes are afflicted by a strange disease called "lack of paragraphs."

"I see folk here who do have something to say, but who put it all into a single block, with no paragraph breaks whatsoever. And with all of those sentences smashed tightly together, it is impossible for this poor hobbit to read any of their messages, which is a very sad thing.

"To help these folk out--especially Valeria and Derakis, I will edit their messages and magically make paragraphs appear. And I beg and I plead that next time they are here, they make sure to do this themselves."

"Others have visited the Inn, but failed to have much to say other than a chance line here and there, or a chatty retort. If you are one of these poor fellows, please edit your posts and add some content so that you comply with the rules listed below. If this is not done, you will see your posts disappear in the flash of an eye."

"And this one small hobbit and Innkeeper will be much obliged if everyone here follows the rules:

1. No chat-style rpgs, or one liners,
2. A minimum of two paragraphs per post, and two sentences per paragraphs."

Cami nodded to the group and headed out to fight the disease "lack of paragraphs"! And to those who followed the rules and produced quality posts, Cami politely bowed her head to acknowledge their contribution. Special kudos to Deorlin and Sadbh.....

[ December 20, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Kitty Kwackers]

A person by the name of Kirkis enters The Green Dragon. He is wearing a pitch-black cloak that covers his whole head (and most of his face) from being seen along with his body. The only bodypart seen on the man are his feet (and the handle of his sword also poked out a pinch). They were covered in thick brown leather boots. He grabs a table in the back and pulls down his hood.

You didn't have to know him to know that he was a foriegner to The Shire. His apperance and acts said it all. First off, he was a wood elf (a race not commonly found in The Shire) with long brown hair that would be a little below his shoulders if it was not held in a pony tail. He had dazaling eyes of saphire-blue that glimmered in the moonlight. Second, he didn't appear as humble and jolly as most of the folk in the shire. Third, he had the mystical, eerie eyes of and adventurer for he was in fact one. He looked for adventure everywhere he went. In fact, that was his reason for coming to the Shire. But now he just wanted to relax and be left alone for he had just traveled a great disantce from the forest of Mirkwood were the wood elves live.

There is also one more thing about Kirkis I will not reveal just yet...

[ December 20, 2002: Message edited by: Richard II son of Richard I ]

[Gorothlammothiel]

Day had passed in the Shire as the bright afternoon turned to a dim evening. Soronûmë was still sat and the table with the star maiden Elwen.

Elwen had asked Soronûmë to play her flute and she held it out to him. It was a beautiful instrument and very capable of enchanting music in the hands of a skilled player. Soronûmë was not that. "I am sorry my lady for I am no musician. Certainly not one worthy of playing the flute you hold so dear." Soronûmë extended his arm and carefully closed the maiden's hand around the cool metal. Elwen recoiled her hand, looking somewhat puzzled and disappointed. She had been so sure she had found another who could play her flute, and didn't doubt that he could. To Elwen, Soronûmë seemed to be hiding something, she had heard him sing earlier and knew he was talented.

Soronûmë looked up to a window on a far wall, avoiding eye contact with the star maiden. Finally he said, "If you will excuse my lady, I should be on my way." Soronûmë picked himself up and fastened his mantle about his shoulders. Raising his hood he made way to the door he smiled to Elwen as he left. Elwen too got up and followed Soronûmë outside.

[Aragorn2002]

He looks up into the sky for a while, his black hair flowing in the cool mid afternoon breeze breeze, and then quite hastily he makes his way back into the Green Dragon, quietly closing the sqeaking door behind himself.

He then walks very quickly towards the counter inside the Inn, and order yet another ale since he has nothing better to do.

After a few minutes he walks over to a corner in the Inn, sits down in a chair and trys to take a quick nap.

[ December 20, 2002: Message edited by: Aragorn2002 ]
________
RHODE ISLAND MARIJUANA DISPENSARY (http://rhodeisland.dispensaries.org/)

[Kitty Kwackers]

Kirkis still sits in the corner of the Green Dragon. He watches as every one else talk with each other.

"This seems to be a very lively place. I may be able to find someone in need of my services."

He then flipped his hood over his head and layed back on his chair and kicked his feet up on the table. Sleep fell upon his tired body.

[Aragorn2002]

He turns restlesly in his sleep, having a nightmare of the terror that takes place in his beloved homeland. He wakes with a started, his his long sword falling noisely to the ground with a clang.Clang! A few people turn their heads towards him, but then return to there ales.
He then wipes the dripping sweat from his forhead, and tries restlessly to get back to sleep, but keeps having the same hrrific nightmares of the boiling blood of his people, laying still on the ground, except for when the evil orcs and uruk-hi step through it.

[ December 20, 2002: Message edited by: Aragorn2002 ]
________
Avandia settlement information (http://www.classactionsettlements.org/lawsuit/avandia/)

[Kitty Kwackers]

Kirkis wakes up from his nice nap. He stretches, takes off his hood, and gets up. He trails on outside the door of the Green Dragon for some fresh air. The crisp dark sky was lit up by the hansome, bright moon in the night sky. His eyes glew beautifly in the moonlight.

He felt a cold wind pass by so he went back in to his table. He takes a deep breath and released it. He sat back and obseved his surroundings.

Kirkis yawns in boredom. He starts drifting off to sleep but he quickly wakes himself up.
"I need to keep awake. All this sleeping isn't healthy. I need to something to do. I'll do anything."

He starts to drift off into sleep but is still awake

[ December 21, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Aragorn2002]

He gets sweating yet again because of the same horrific dream, so he walks across the quietly creaking floor and out of the Green Dragon to get some fresh air in his lungs instead of the think smokey air inside of the Green Dragon. He walks outside and sits on a chair and looks out into the night sky trying to relax, but he finds it impossible with the fate of his people troubling his mind.
________
Ktm 450sx-f (http://www.cyclechaos.com/wiki/KTM_450SX-F)

[Nurumaiel]

Robin had fallen asleep, if that were possible, and had missed many of the going-ons in the Green Dragon. Now she awoke with a start, and looked blearily about her, trying to remember where she was and what she was doing there. She saw Dinodas sitting beside her, so she leaned over and whispered in his ear, "Where am I?"

Dinodas hid a smile. After all, it wasn't the lass's fault she had fallen asleep. She'd had many adventures the day before, if adventures they could be called, and she had not been to bed until very late, waking up early to help with the chores.

"You're in the Green Dragon, Robin," he whispered back.

"Oh, yes, that's where," muttered Robin, looking annoyed. "I must be going old or something."

Dinodas laughed outright and drew the attention of many sitting around their tables. He gave a friendly wave to them all. "At the moment Robin is not quite up to it," said he, "but soon I can promise you a song or two from her."

Robin gave him a piercing glance but smiled at the others and nodded, and Dinodas went to get a drink.

[Aragorn2002]

Marithorn's dark black hair is blowing in the cold whistling wind, and thinks of the troubles facing his people, and when and if he will go back to defend the by himself. It then gets to cold out and he slowly paces in the Inn.

The wooden floor creaks beneath his feet, as he walks over to his chair in the corner and thinks his plan of return over, and over in his tired mind. His face looks old, and weary from being so encredibly sleepy.He almost dozes off but stops himself knowing it will only end up in another long nightmare.

The people around continue with there drinks and conversations. Some huddle around the fire and talk, while others sit at the counter drinking their ales, with what seems like they have not a care in the world.
________
Home Made Vaporizer (http://homemadevaporizers.info/)

[Valeria, Witch of Angmar]

Valeria shot Dire Lance a glare when he tried to offer his services as a blade. Her blue eyes narrowed. "I have trouble enough without hiring any, thank you very much," she said, and turned back to her drink.

A hobbit named Cami spoke up suddenly and Valeria's face turned as crimson as her cloak when she heard her name mentioned. She ducked her head in embaressment and through she saw Dire Lance snicker.

Her head lifted, though, at the clang of a sword on the floor. A stranger in the corner gathered his weapon quickly and soon moved for the door. There was a wild look in his eyes, as if he were greatly troubled. Valeria wondered, but was silent.

A few moments later, the stranger returned and began to pace the floor. Sighing, he returned to his seat in the corner. Despite the weariness on his face, he seemed determined not to fall asleep.

A dream, then?, Valeria mused. If sleep is so much his enemy, it can be nothing else.

She turned her eyes to the windows. Outside, night was approaching.

[ December 20, 2002: Message edited by: Valeria, Witch of Angmar ]

[Merri]

The small hobbit girl slipped in through the doorway. This was an adventure for her; rarely did she leave her warm and cozy hobbit hole with all her beloved books and pretty clothes. She preferred spending her time with the old stories rather than going out on adventures on her own, but this time was different. Her beloved cousin was deathly ill. And she would fight with a tigress to protect the ones she loved.

She stood in the doorway of the crowded inn, looking around her in a puzzled manner. Elanor usually liked crowds, but only when they were crowds of people she knew and loved, and this was a crowd full of strangers. She liked remaining unnoticed, but she didn't take into account the fact that she was unusual-looking for a hobbit, so she would draw notice in any crowd. She was what some might call pretty.

Elanor grit her teeth together and plunged through the crowd towards an empty stool by the counter, and triumphantly climbed on to it.

One battle won.

[ December 21, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Aragorn2002]

Marithorn's eyes, deep with tire look over towards the door and notices the little hobbit walk in, but pays little attention.
He then let's his enemy(sleep) take over him. he once again falls into the same nightmare that has been troubling him his entire journey.

The people around soon become to fade, and then disapear. His dream starts out in Gondor yet again, and he watches the people fight and die without cause. Then again, he awakes because of the dream. Boiling sweat dripps off of his foread.

Aragorn2002----Please see my private message to you.

[ December 21, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]
________
Website Host (http://hostndesign.com)

[The Barrow-Wight]

*** OUT OF CHARACTER ***

Aragorn2002's last statement shows that there are people here at the Green Dragon who do not understand the purpose of the Inn.

The Green Dragon is not an RPG game.

The Green Dragon is where you can...
(1) ... give a demonstration of your writing ability.
(2) ... see the writing abilities of others.
(3) ... find players for a Seeded Game (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/cgi-bin/ultimatebb.cgi?ubb=get_topic&f=19&t=000006)

If you want to roleplay on a regular basis, join a game in progress (go to the Discussion threads and talk to the game owners) or ask the Innkeepers if you may start another.

We will be forced to delete any further misuse of the Dragon.

It's not that we don't want you here, we just want you in the RPGs more.

[Deorlin]

Deorlin smiled back at Sadbh's joke. "True enough, Sadbh. A 'dry' ale would be a rarity indeed. But my thirst is great enough, that I feel I could down a gallon of whatever brew they serve up here."

As they left the stable, a young woman, half hidden in shadow, called out to sadbh by name. After introductions were made, he greted Achae with a friendly nod of the head. He continued on into the inn, as Sadbh fell back a step to speak with her countrywoman. Passing in through the doorway, Deorlin glanced around. Spotting a table with three empty seats around it, he walked over and sat, trying to catch the eye of one of the busy barmaids who were scurrying back and forth with food and drink.

It had been a good hour or so since he had first tried, vainly, to order a meal. This time he was determined to stay put until something hot and something wet were placed before him. The two Daleswomen seated themselves at the table just as a small hobbit passed by, offering free drinks and stew! Quickly, before any could stop him, Deorlin grabbed three bowls and passed them around. The hobbit smiled and handed him three pints of ale. Deorlin quaffed his in one sip and reached for another. "I'm a little bit thirsty." he said, apologetically, as even the friendly hobbit looked somewhat taken aback.

His thirst somewhat abated, the young Rohhirim fell to on the stew. It was hot and fragrant and delicious! Sadbh and Achae hesitated, staring at him as he gulped huge spoonfuls down. Then, with understanding grins, they too began to eat.

At last coming up for air, Deorlin began to hear the chatter flying through the air. What was this? Someone speaking of Gondor - Minas Tirith under siege? And talk of the peole of Rohan riding to their aid?

"Did you hear that?" he asked his companions. "Have you heard any news of Gondor - is it true - has the Dark Lord made his move at last?"

[ December 21, 2002: Message edited by: Deorlin ]

[Sadbh]

Sadbh sighed and thought for a second. "I haven't heard any new to make me think otherwise." She shook her head. "Then again I haven't heard much news at all."

She gave a half smile to no one in particular and grimaced at the thought of the dark lord rising once more to power. This was reason for people to become wary indeed, though none she had met so far were suspicious of her or in their own actions. She scanned the inn quietly, stirring the hot stew absently with a spoon. Taking care to leave out any meat, she savored a spoon of vegetables.

She turned back to Achae and Deorlin and shrugged.

"What news of this have you heard, Achae, if any at all?" Her eyes showed keen, but grave interest in the subject and she leaned slightly over the bowl, resting her arms softly on the table. She aquired a troubled face, as she was weighing out different possibilities in her mind, wondering if...

With a shudder, she surfaced from her melancholy thoughts.

[Coral]

Achae was taken aback by the question, she had been lost in her own thoughts since finding Sadbh in the stables. Is was good to see an old friend in a place so unfamiliar to her. She nodded and slowly answered the question,

"I chose not to meddle in the affairs of others, I have no thoughts to something I know so little about...but what a thought that would be..."

Content with her hurried answer, Achae turned her attention back to her stew...

[Sadbh]

Sadbh, after hearing Achae's unsure answer turned back to Deorlin. He looked fairly puzzled and disapointed. Slowly, as not to tread on thin ice, she spoke again. "Deorlin... you haven't heard anything other on this matter?" She let a spoon full of rich, thick broth, drip back into the bowl.

With a tired exhalation, she leaned back into her chair. "Sorry, we coulldn't be of any more assitance."

He shrugged. "Oh no, no matter." But clearly, he was worried by this news, and the two women's lack of information had not helped.

"I'll get us some bread, shall I?" Sadbh broke the quiet with a cheery smile. The others nodded and she set off to the bar, where she wove her way through the crowds to find an empty spot at the bar. "Please, may I have a loaf of rye?" She asked the woman who stepped up from behind the bar. She was replied to with a nod.

In a short moment the woman came back with a loaf of soft brown rye cradled in a wicker bread basket.

"Thank you." Sadbh gave the woman two coins and set offf through the crowd, bread held close to her to avoid the unpleasant possibility of dropping it.

[Deorlin]

Deorlin grimaced as he finished the last of his stew. "No, Sadbh, I didn't expect any news. I'm just very worried. You see, the last several months, I have travelled about Middle Earth, acting as an emmissary of sorts for my king, trying to test the waters as it were. He's anxious to know just where the other peoples of Middle Earth stand regarding the Dark Lord, his rumored rebirth, and the growing threat of Mordor. I know to those in the far north, such as Dale, these threats may seem distant, unreal even. And in a quiet backwater like the Shire, it's likely that peoples such as these good hobbits may not even remember those dark ages past as anything more than myth."

"But we of Rohan know more certainly of what danger lies to the east. And our oft times allies in Gondor face the most immediate peril." Deorlin sighed and passed his hand over his face. "I have been gone too long! I must get back to Edoras and make my reports to my king. My family is of the Westfold, so they should be safe enough, for the moment. Saruman and Isenguard are near, and he has always been a friend to my people. But I worry . . . I worry."

Seeing the anxious looks on the faces of his companions, Deorlin was sorry to be speaking of such grim forebodings. To change the subject, he recalled Sadbh's original query to him regarding the royalty of Dale. Now why would she think that travellers might have some knowledge of the Prince? Had he left his father's kingdom?

"Well, I could bore you both with talk of myself and my people. I'm but a rough and ready soldier, just like my father." Deorlin failed to add that his father, Deorwine, was one of the first knights of the Mark, and answered directly to the king. "Tell me of yourselves - what brings two women of Dale to this peaceful and quaint corner of Middle Earth?"

[Merri]

Elanor looked up into yet another unfamiliar face. This face belonged to a young hobbit lad, who seemed jolly and relaxed. Elanor envied his comfort with his surroundings, then noticed that he had a steaming bowl full of something that smelled absolutely wonderful in his hands.

"It's the best Green Dragon has to offer in the way of meat and potatoes, miss, and you look as if you're in the need of a lot of such feedings." He said. His face was good natured, his voice cheerful. Elanor blushed.

"Thank you," She murmured, as he set the bowl before her.

"Where are you off to all alone, young miss, on such a night as this?" If it were any other male, he might have been teasing her, but his voice sounded young. He must still be a child, maybe not a year younger than her, but at least her age. And he was a good boy, she could see that. The fact that he was certainly not bad looking didn't escape her notice, either. She was a girl, after all.

She decided she liked him. "I'm going to care for my sick cousin down in Brandybuck," She replied, as she started in on the food, some of the most delicious she had ever tasted. "We're quite close- she won't have anyone else care for her." The boy made a noise of sympathy.

"That's pretty tough," He said, leaning against the counter.

"I don't believe we were introduced?" She began, in her quiet voice. It was a wonder he heard her over the bustle of the inn.

"Tom Proudfoot's my name, miss," He said, with a grin. "And you are?"

"Elanor Greenthumb," She replied, smiling.

[ December 21, 2002: Message edited by: Merri ]

[Kitty Kwackers]

As night falls upon the land, Kirkis gets up and decides he is hungry. After eating a little bit of food, he decided that his stay at the inn was coming to an end. But he would come back soon.

Kirkis walks outside, with his hood on, and mounts his beautiful black horse with a mane that glimmers in the moonlight. Before he rode off, he accually said goodbye to the inn.

"Good bye to you, The Green Dragon. I'll be back soon."

He rides off into the darkness with his hands gripping to the horses mane. He would be back soon.

[DireLAnce]

Dire does indeed snicker in amusement at Valeria's blush, but stops quickly, listening to the others in the inn. He quietly sits, looking about, but shrugs to himself.

"Not so much hired trouble, as a blade at your side one can count on... when someone hires me, i fullfill my contracts; always." His eyes narrow, and his voice drops to a whisper once more. "And i have an interest in that ring. If it's anything like mine, it will be good to know where it is, and you know of mine. Tiss better to have me at your side where you can watch me, instead of at your back...."

[ December 21, 2002: Message edited by: DireLAnce ]

[Dark Shadow]

The faint sound of horses hooves was heard outside the in, followed by quiet footsteps, unheard by those inside. A tall, dark figure appeared in the doorway, a stranger who no one recognised. Dressed all in black and wearing a hood that showed none of its face, one could not even be sure of its kind. The build suggested Man or Elf, but there was no way of telling which. The figure entered the warm, glowing inn, looking out of place among all the bright and cheerful colours, and headed for a table in a dark corner away form the crowd without so much as removing cloak or hood.

The inn had fallen silent at the arrival of such a being, but raising its hooded head and looking in the direction of the innkeeper, the stranger broke the silence with two words, “Ale. Please.” The strange calm of the voice, as if by magic, restored the atmosphere of the inn, and chatter broke out again. The hooded figure let its head fall again, and sat, gazing into the fire.

[Coral]

Achae looked up and smiled for the first time since entering the Green Dragon. She pondered for a moment and answered the question with new enthusiasm.

"Oh, but Master Deorlin, life is tiresome in Dale. I wouldn't blame anyone for taking leave of such a place."

Achae looked to her companions, they seemed surprised that she had spoken so quickly. She took a bite of her bread and continued,

"The same routine, day after day! Let me tell you, I have much greater plans for this life...through death or toil, at least one woman of Dale will have made a difference in this tragic world."

[piosenniel]

'Ale, please' she heard the dark one say. She poured a pint of the Inn's rare obsidian ale, watching the creamy head rise in the tankard as it filled. A small plate of savories in hand, she approached the darkened table, and sat the drink and food before the stranger.

'Mae govannen, elendil! Here is drink to drive from you the shadows of the road, and savories to feed your spirit.'

She took the apron from round her and untying it, laid it on a chair next to her as she sat down. Her keen grey eyes assesed the figure which sat at ease before her. Reaching out a hand, she pushed the ale and food close before him, gesturing for him to begin.

'My name is Piosenniel, or Pio, if you wish - the erstwhile Innkeeper while Master Dwarin is away.' She looked closely into the shadows veiling the features of his face.

'Your cloak is heavy with the dust of long travelling, and even in shadow can be seen the cares which etch your countenance.' She leaned forward, interested in this newcomer.

'Will you not share your story with me?'

[Sadbh]

Sadbh felt a small grin tugging at the corner of her lips. She gave a small laugh. "An admirable plan, Achae. However, I did not find life in Dale so tiring." She cocked her head to the side and seemed to doze off for a few moments before she herself answered Deorlin's question.

Sadbh spoke clearly and slowly, and a polite, distant air had taken hold of her.
"My reason for travelling is none to complicated." She began mildly. "I simply left Dale a month or so ago, looking for someone." She took a pause for affect. "The Prince. Perhaps you know he left a year ago? He went off to Moria, to help a group of dwarves reclaim a precious jewel of theirs." Deorlin looked genuinely surprised.

"And so their you have it, the whole nine yards. Thrilling, hmm?" She asked sarcastically.

[Coral]

Achae saw the grin spread over Sadbh's face, and sunk deep in her seat. From humiliation or the need to be alone, she did not know. Her plan may seem foolish to some but she thought it to be a grand adventure awaiting her.

Achae looked to Sadbh at the mention of the Prince's disappearance and sighed,
"What a terrible misfourtune to have befallen us...but these are dark times..."

[ December 22, 2002: Message edited by: Coral ]

[Derakis]

Derakis takes a look around. He puts a few coins on the counter to cover any of his purchases not payed for.

He then procedes out toward the door. Putting his hood up over his face, he walks out the door.

[Merri]

Elanor had finished her stew, and the boy had been called back to his duties, so once again, she was left to her own thoughts and fancies.

She had been living alone in her large hobbit-hole since her dear mother died last year. Shortly after she was born, her father set off over the mountains with a group of dwarves and elves on some secret mission, never to return. She and her mother had given up all hope of his ever returning, and her thoughts turned to him.

What had happened to him? Was he still alive? And if so, where? Why hadn't he returned? Was he a prisoner of the Land of Mordor?

Elanor pushed this last question out of her mind. This could not be. But she distinctly remembered Gwain the dwarf's return. He was the only one who ever came back, and he would not say a word about what had happened to him. Why would he not say a word? Exactly what had happened on that journey that began sixteen years ago?

She had a strange hope that she might find out more about him on this journey of hers, for she was going over those same mountains that he had gone over so long ago.

[Nurumaiel]

Robin finished her tea and pushed her cup over to Dinodas, and then climbed onto the table. Many eyes turned to her, though a few of the laughing and talking men, elves, dwarves, and hobbits paid her no heed.

Robin suddenly felt afraid of singing in front of everyone, but she put on a cheery smile and looked down at Dinodas. Returning her smile, he pulled out a flute and stood onto the table next to her. Robin began to speak.

"All my friends here at the Green Dragon, some of you have traveled from far lands, and I hope to welcome you with this song.

"I'm not good at writing songs, but I try. Nurumaiel, my Elf friend, has been teaching me Elvish and I'm slowly learning. I wrote this song and I hope you'll enjoy it, even though I've never tried to write a song in Elvish before."

She nodded to Dinodas, and he put the flute to his lips. He began to play a haunting and beautiful melody, and everyone in the inn had their eyes on the pair, even if only for a brief moment.

Elen sila tere i mornie
Silme elen na, mi nulla fuin helle
Nu i helle eleni na titta celume
I linque na ullume vanya
Mi linque eleni sila
Carin titta eleni mi linque
A entona i celume na i alda
Vanya malinorne, tulca a tunda
Vanya na imen, ingole mar
A inye uva marilqua nin auri.

Robin ended her song and looked about the room, a pretty blush coming to her cheeks. With no closing words, she and Dinodas climbed down from the table, sat back in their chairs, and ordered some food.

[Valeria, Witch of Angmar]

Valeria bristled at Dire Lance's words. Her lip curled and she prepared to say something to him, when Derakis got up silently and left.

She watched him go. It seemed as though everyone she'd found was suddenly leaving...Maybe they had the right idea. Perhaps she had stayed too long.

Valeria turned back to Dire Lance. "You say you want to know about my ring, sir," she said. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I fear it is nothing like your own gem. Since you so wish to hear about it, though," and she held up her hand, "I will oblige you in that request."

"In the first few months after I left the Citadel, I soon fell in with a company of warriors. They traveled a portion of the countryside, defending small villages and settlements from a growing number of orc raids."

"I fell in love with one of the men in that band. He was the first person I ever told that I am a witch. I feared he would reject me, but instead he said that his mother had been a sorceress of a kind and that magic had come to his aid in the past. He saw no reason to fear it and no reason to fear me."

"I traveled with him and the others for several weeks. One day, as we approached a town to bargain for supplies, we saw a mass of orcs coming down out of the hills, headed for the town. I made to ride with the company and do battle with them, but my love held me back."

"He told me not go. I demanded to know why, and he said that he had dreamed of this. In the dream, I had ridden off to this very battle and had died. He said he would not have that and bade me ride off to where we had camped the previous night and he would meet me there as soon as he was able."

"I nearly refused, until he took this ring off of a chain he wore at his throat. He said it had belonged to his mother, the sorceress, and that it protected him. He hoped it would in turn protect me."

"I told him I could not take such a family treasure from him and made to give it back. Before I could, he slid it onto my hand and told me to ride. There was such command in his voice, it was like a spell in itself and I rode fast back to our old camp."

"When night fell and none of the company had returned, I started to ride back to the village. It was midnight when I reached it. The place was burned to the ground and the bodies of orc and man were strewn about. I searched the dead for my love but did not find him."

"Frantic, I rode to the next village and begged for news of the battle. The villagers there said that members of the company had passed through. Not long after I had ridden away from my beloved, a second group of orcs, far outnumbering my company, appeared from behind the hills on the other side of the village. The company was caught between and many perished. Those that did not die were grieviously hurt."

"The survivors had passed through the village where I then was, getting what supplies they could and riding fast away for fear of pursuit. One man told me that some of those who lived were so badly wounded that he did not expect them to live much longer. No one could tell me if my love was among the survivors."

Valeria's eyes seemed to reflect the firelight as much as the red gem on her hand. "I know not if my love lies in unmarked grave that I shall never find, or if he lives and yet battles on, on unknown field that may become his unmarked grave."

Valeria stood up, standing straight and proud. "I am tired of this not knowing. You asked for the tale of my ring, stranger, and I have given it. I have appreciated the hospitality of this place, but fear I have tarried too long. May whatever powers you believe in keep you safe. I go to find my love."

She turned away from the table, placing some coins on the bar as she left. She passed out the door and to the stables where she mounted her horse, Lestrata. Horse and rider raced into the dark.

Cold wind snapped Valeria's hair like a midnight flag. A single snowflake drifted down from above.

[DireLAnce]

Dire watched her go, his eyes sad. "Aye, a ring, but not the same indeed..." He sighs, looking idly into the night, as if seeing something, then nods, muttering.

"Tiss indeed time to go my friend... it is not here..." His eyes seemed to flicker, glowing briefly red, then he began walking towards the door, intent on leaving into the night/

[ December 23, 2002: Message edited by: DireLAnce ]

[Dark Shadow]

The stranger drank deeply of the ale, ignoring the food that had been set in front of him. He was aware of the presence of the Elf, and he looked away. It had been so long since he'd spoken with anyone and he felt awkward, wary almost. Who could he trust?

'Thank you,' he said at last.

He sat back in his chair and surveyed the one who sat before him. Looking around as though to check who was watching, he slowly removed the hood which hid his face. The fair hair was dusty and lust less. His face looked weary and tired from long, restless travel. However, despite the rest of his appearance, his clear blue eyes shone in his face as if he were upon the brink of a journey, rather than tiring from one he had been long upon.

‘My name,’ he begun ‘is not of importance. And nor is my purpose. I will not trouble you with stories of the past, nor predictions of the future. I will simply tell you that I am weary from the road and while I rest here, your kindness is much comfort to me.’

He closed his eyes, and drank again.

‘There is no one I can trust anymore. I cannot tell you anymore, although I don’t want you to feel cheated of your story. Tell me, what are you now thinking?’

[ December 23, 2002: Message edited by: Dark Shadow ]

[ December 23, 2002: Message edited by: Dark Shadow ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami Goodchild was doling out pints of ale and carrying platters of food to the folk sitting and talking at the tables. It was good to see so many visitors at the Inn. Some were known to her by name and face, while others seemed to be newcomers, enjoying the light and the warmth of the hearth after long journies on the road.

Just as she was turning back to the bar to grab another handful of drinks, Cami felt an insistent tug on her sleeve. She looked over to see Rose Goodchild, a good friend and kinswoman, carrying the official mailbags of the Hobbit Postal District that served the Shire and the outlying areas of Buckland, Westmarch, and Bree. Rose sported an official proclamation in her hand, and brandished it above her head to get everyone's attention.

With a nod of agreement from Cami, Rose lept gracefully onto the table and announced, "I"ve an official message from Halbereth Diagona. He and and VanimaEdhel and a few others you may know have been engaged for some time in an RPG adventure called "Many Questions, No Answers". They now find themselves in need of a few more adventurers to join in the fun. They are specifically looking for male characters, both Elves and Men."

Rose glanced quickly about the Inn. There did indeed seem to be a number of persons fitting this description hunched over the bar and the tables, some looking like dark and mysterious figures, while others had a more open expression on their face.

Rose nodded politely in the direction of these visitors and continued with her news, "Should any of you gentlemen care to consider this challenge and join up with these folk, please take a serious look at the game thread "Many Questions, No Answers", and send a private message to Halbereth Diagona to discuss the characters needed and the terms of this engagement.

Rose bowed with a flourish to her audience, and pushed out the door of the Inn to continue with her other delveries to every corner of the Shire. A few of the Men and Elves at the tables began discussing the proposal. One or two stood up abruptly and hastily left to get a better look at Habereth's company and his needs.

[ December 23, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[arelendil]

Elwen had grabbed her cloak before exiting the now crowded pub. Swinging it around herself she fastened the star brooch, her fingers nimble and quick. The night outside was cool, a gentle breeze played through Elwen's hair setting the waves and white gems flashing with Elwen's brilliant white light.

Elwen caught hold of Soronûmë's wrist as he stood on the door step of the Green Dragon. She pulled him around to face her, but his hood was up, hiding his face from her. Elwen sighed.

"What do you run from?" She questioned him gentle, her breath coming fast and shallow. Through the snatches of cloud Elwen caught sight of the moon, it always calmed her to the spirit. The wind tossed Elwen's dark hair about her face. "Do you run from me?"

Elwen tried to see his eyes but they were hidden in the shadows. Slowly Elwen released her grip on Soronûmë's wrist and began to twisted pieces of her hair around her slender fingers, dreading the answers that would come.

Elwen bowed her head her hood now covering her face and began to sing gentle to herself. "What on earth am I meant to do? In this crowded place there is only you . Was gonna leave, now I have to stay. You have taken my breath away." The wind caught Elwen's words sending them spinning around and around. "Is the world still spinin' round. I don't feel like comin' down. It's in your eyes..." Elwen's voice trailed off to nothing more than a soft rustle of the trees.

"I finally found someone who understood!" Whispered Elwen, the tears trickling down her soft cheeks, flashing silver in the light of the moon. Elwen raised her hands to cover her eyes and wipe away the tears that were now coming fast. "What have I done to upset you so? Why won't you let me help you?"

[ December 23, 2002: Message edited by: arelendil ]

[piosenniel]

Her brow furrowed at his words, and she sat back from him. 'What I am thinking is that I will leave you to your solitude. Well do I know the safety of one's own company. Signal to me or to one of the servers should you need your drink refilled, good Sir.'

Pio picked up her apron, and standing, wrapped it once again around her. A small smile played about her lips as she bid the fair-haired stranger fare well. In a wink, she had vanished into the crowd of the common room, hurrying back toward the bar to see to the other guests.

[ December 24, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Gorothlammothiel]

Soronûmë turned as Elwen caught his wrist, she was questionning him. She asked what he could not answer, "You have not upset me star maiden" he replied, brushing the tears from her cheeks, "no one so fair could ever do such a thing."

The wind caught Elwen's hair taking it from her fingers, high up into the air. She pulled it down and raised her hood over her head, she was still weeping. "You ask me questions I cannot answer Elwen. I would tell you the answers if I knew how. I run from the same thing that I have run from the past months, and that is all I can say." Soronûmë tried to keep Elwen's gaze but both were distracted by a disturbance in the nearby woods. "I would have stayed Elwen so that you were not alone. I must leave, but you are strong. You have yet to find the master you hold so dear and cannot stay in the inn much longer yourself."

Soronûmë called for his horse and Salixrana came, mounting the steed Soronûmë whispered "Farewell star maiden, we will meet again and on that day, your light will shine with all the stars of the sky." He smiled, "Namarie Elwen" and rode off at speed.

[ December 23, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[arelendil]

He was gone! The tears flowed free as the distance shape of Soronûmë vanished into the dark. How could he leave? Elwen had thought that finally she had found someone to help her in her quest but now he was gone, like everyone she had ever held dear.

Elwen stood on the path which ran away from the Green Dragon. The wind tugged violently at her hood but she didn't move. A deep longing welled up inside her to call her horse and ride after him. He had said she was strong but her heart had been broken too many times the strength that had returned while talking to Soronûmë had ebbed away leaving nothing, only emptiness and despair.

The wind blew through the trees. The birch beside the path rustled softly, telling of things forgotten, whispering dreams of things long past. The clouds drifted part, leaving the moon stareing down with silver light that illuminated everything. the stars, her people gave her great comfort as they burned in the heavens with white and blue light.

In her heart Elwen knew why he had left, for the time was coming when she too must continue the quest for the one that had given her the flute. Soronûmë was right there was strength in her.

Elwen's voice lifted up above the trees, soft as a running brook. She called to him a final farewell. "Nai Vardo eleni ilyë lumenn' enomentielvo siluvar Soronûmë, until we meet again." Elwen, with her sharp elven eyes caught sight of Soronûmë far off in the distance. He raised his hand in a gesture of farewell.

Elwen wiped the tears from her eyes and walked away from the pub. She knew her time had come, with the departure of her friend she too must continue on her quest for her hearts desire.

[Dark Shadow]

The Elf sat still for a second, furious with himself. Someone he could have shared his past with, and he'd pushed her away. Well he thought, some things never change. I'll never be able to speak freely. Sighing, he drank more of the ale and sank deeper into his thoughts, becoming increasingly troubled. He mused over the idea of calling Pio back, but soon dismissed it. His eyes wandered over the plate, but his appetite was even smaller than usual.

He finished the ale, but didn’t call for more. Instead he replaced his hood so it covered his face and wondered if he was strong enough to leave now. No. He needed rest. He would have to ignore that unwelcome feeling that had come over him since Pio’s departure and stay until, until he was ready to leave. So as to bring less attention to himself, he slunk further into the darkness of the corner, hoping to soon be forgotten by those who had seen him enter.

[piosenniel]

Her eyes sparkled as much as did the glasses she polished and lined up carefully beneath the bar. Pio watched the fair-haired stranger sink back into the shadows of the Inn. 'It will be easier for him to leave those shadows than for him to step from the shadows which hold his spirit.'

She sighed, watching him as he toyed with his empty tankard, trying once again to conceal himself beneath the shadows of his hood. Well she knew the canker of secrets that ate at him, the loneliness that starved the spirit and could not be denied.

On a sudden impulse, she thought to return to where he sat. The remembrance of her own long loneliness, how she had held off those who would draw near, her held her back.

'No.' she said softly to herself. 'I will allow him the grace of his own time. When he is ready, he will speak.'

She polished the last glass and set it on the bar, thinking to pour herself a small glass of Dorwinion wine. The light from a nearby lantern caught the clear plane of the faceted side, and blazed out into the room for one small moment - a steady, blazing star, a beacon . . .

[ December 24, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Susan Delgado]

Susan, as she called herself, had kept quiet all evening, drawing so little attention to herself that she doubted anyone had even noticed her in hours. But she had noticed some of them, and the exchange between Pio and the fair-haired stranger had been particularly interesting with the way he was hiding. If he'd really wanted to avoid people, he'd have rented a room and gone there, but he hadn't. He must want to talk to someone. Someone who had enough problems so as to make his look trifling. Noting that his tankard was empty, she stopped by the bar and got a another full for him. Pio gave her a knowing smile as she handed it over and softly said, "Good luck,"

Susan just shrugged and said, "Luck is what we make of it, my dear, nothing more or less." Taking the ale and her own tankard of mead, she made her way toward the table. He looked up warily as she approached but after deposting his ale and sitting at the bench, she asked nothing more pressing than what he should be called.

[Namarie]

Namarië please check your PM's (Private Messages)

*** Saved for re-worked post **

[ December 26, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Orual]

The door creaked open, letting in a breeze as well as a newcomer. She stepped in, tapping the toes of her heavy boots to knock off some of the larger chunks of dirt that clung to them. After closing the door, she threw back the hood of her green cloak and gazed around the room with her sharp green eyes. Suddenly she smiled, with a warmth and humour emenating from that expression belied by the long sword that hung at her side.

"An ale, if you'd be so kind, mistress!" she called to Cami in a cheerful voice. "For a weary traveller."

The innkeeper looked at her, a little amused. "Have you come of age to have one yet, young miss?" she asked.

The newcomer laughed. Indeed, her short, dark red hair framed a round face suggesting an age of no more than twenty and in all probability less. "Yes, mistress, I have," she said, and took a seat. "Talmérië is my name, but it is long, so most call me Rie. I am a daughter of the Rangers--perhaps some of you know my father, Almarien?" She looked around the room, and saw a few heads nod. "I've travelled here to come into my own, seeking adventure and good people. I've found the latter, to be certain: may these fair lands last forever!" she cried, and took a deep drink. "But as for now, now that I've quenched my thirst--and a finer ale I've never tasted, master!--I'd not deny a good tale and good friends, for I've travelled many a mile." With that, Talmérië raised her mug again and took a seat further back, closer to the fire, and looked around for a willing victim to listen to her own tales.

[ December 28, 2002: Message edited by: Orual ]

[piosenniel]

Balancing the tray on her left hand, held high above her head, Pio made her way carefully round the room. At each table she stopped, filling the empty tankards from the pitcher of ale or the empty cups with strong red wine from the bottle perched on the tray. A platter of warm herb and mushroom pasties, fresh from the Dragon’s oven sent its savory scents to hungry drinkers, and with a wink and a nod she left one at each patron’s place.

Her last stop was at the table of the flame-haired newcomer. ‘Talmérië, is it not?’ she asked, setting the tray down on the table. ‘Mind if I join you for a moment?’ Not waiting for an answer to either question, the Elf slid into the chair opposite Rie, and pulling a chair from another table close to her, propped her feet on it. She topped the woman’s tankard and poured herself a half glass of wine, cutting it with a little water.

‘Been a very long day, today.’ she remarked, her words somewhat muffled by a mouthful of half-chewed mushrooms and flaky pastry. She eyed the woman from under the cover of her long dark lashes, and washed down the last of the pastie with a drink of wine. ‘So,’ she said casually, relaxing back against her chair, ‘I overheard you say something about not denying us a good tale’. Pio motioned with a tilt of her chin to the patrons in the Inn. ‘Now all are settled with food and drink, will you not tell us something of your travels.’

It was less a question than a simple statement of expectation. She leaned forward, raising her glass to the newcomer. Bringing it to her lips, she sipped at it, and waited . . .

[Airerûthiel]

Laitalathion listened at hearing news of Gondor, the land his heart sighed for. With every day that the dark armies of Mordor crept closer to that place, his desire to return grew stronger, threatening to choke his other thoughts while they slept in his mind until all he could think of was restoring his family's honour.

'If Minas Tirith falls, the line of Kings will truly fail,' he thought, 'and my father's memory would die both true and false. He was a traitor to the Stewards, true enough - Maikadurion inherited his outspokenness and quick temper, but I received my mother's temperament - but he never compromised his belief that one day, Isildur's true heir would return to his throne in the white city. And to that I hold, until the day I die.'

The half-Elf turned to Derakis. "Forgive my directness in this matter, but you are a Man of Rohan. Do you know of a half-Elf who looks not unlike me, who walks that land dressed in the simple garments of a Ranger?"

"Why do you wish to know this, Laitalathion?" asked Derakis, not trusting the Gondorian entirely. "I can give you precious little information about the land of the horse-lords, as it has been long since I walked in that country."

"The half-Elf of which I speak is my elder twin brother and the heir of the house of Théomer of Gondor," replied Laitalathion. "My homeland is in great danger, as will be your own if the white tower should fall, and whilst my father was a traitor to the Stewards of that land, he was nonetheless faithful until the end that one day the true King would reclaim his throne.

"I last saw Maikadurion when I rode back west to the Shire five years ago, and he and Airerûthiel are the only family I have left. The three of us could save our families' legacies and aid in the cause in the south, but unless I know where I might find my brother the chance of the two greatest Gondorian houses being able to aid in the defeat of the Dark Lord will be gone."

[Dark Shadow]

He sighed gently, looking away, before returning his attention to the second to approach him that evening. A small smile played upon his lips, but did not spread.

"It seems I have been careless,” he said quietly, his gaze shifting to where Piosenniel sat with the newest arrival to the inn.

“I have drawn far too much attention to myself, despite my best efforts to remain unseen. Well,” he said, as if reading her mind with his sharp blue eyes, “I could have rented a room, but it is so long since I have been in the company of others and I wished to remain here to enjoy the pleasure and conversation which is certainly not lacking.”

At this, he looked straight at her and said, “I see that whilst my name remains unknown, people will continue to be curious. Very well.” He rested a hand on the table, as if to reach for the ale she had brought him, but did not, leaving his hand where it was.

“I am Erdaminéon. And now would you care to tell me who you are and what your business is disturbing my peace?” He said this in calm way, and his speech showed that he was not really bothered by the disturbance of his peace. With this last sentence, he fixed her with a piercing stare and sat back to wait for her reply.

[Orual]

Talmérië sat back in her chair and looked around the room, shedding her heavy cloak as the fire warmed her. Once again she gazed around the room, and was deep in her own thoughts when a voice interrupted her reverie.

"Talmérië, is it not?" Rie startled, whipping her head around. She smiled, half in surprise and half in delight at a companion, when she saw a lovely Elf, who Rie thought had been called Piosenniel, next to her. She opened her mouth to reply, but was not allowed the time. "Mind if I join you for a moment?" Rie shook her head and again opened her mouth, but Pio was too much like Rie herself, and began speaking cheerfully. Finally, she invited Rie to speak of her travels, an invitation which Rie was in no mind to deny. A willing victim!

"Gladly, my lady," Rie answered, raising her mug in reply. "Though I fear that my stories may not be as interesting as those of other patrons, for I have come here seeking my first true adventure. But I shall do my best.

"As I have said, my father is Almarien of the Rangers, and my older brothers, as well as my twin brother, are Rangers as well. My two younger brothers will be, when they come of age. Alas for a lady among so many lords!" Rie laughed, but her eyes suggested that the laughter wasn't entirely sincere. "My mother is a metalworker, and she provides my father and brothers with their armor. I am expected by my family to follow in her tradition, for the women of my family--and there have been few enough, for my father's line has been blessed with sons--have near always found their places in the forge. There's been the occasional healer, but for the greater part they have been metalworkers. So I spent the greater part of my teen-age years in the forge with my mother, but my heart was never there." She laughed again, this time a little bitterly. "Instead of dreaming that some day I'd make a fine mail-shirt, I dreamt that some day I'd wear one, like my father and brothers. I practice with my twin, because we are of much the same skill, but I grew up knowing that I would never be able to follow him into battle."

Rie broke off, taking a sip of her ale and staring sullenly into the fire for a moment. She then looked up, and smiled apologetically. "My apologies, lady, I am drifting off again. It is a habit.

"Finally, earlier this year, I decided that all the great heroes didn't become heroes by sitting around waiting for their father's permission. They did something about it. So I did: I left. Yes, I ran away, is it not sad? Among a warrior's family I had to run away to be a warrior. I don't doubt that once I accomplish some great deed my father will be proud of me, but I expect that if I return without accomplishing anything he'll be terribly disappointed. That's my fix, lady...I have to find some deed to do before I return home, but who will take on a runaway girl on any quest of importance? But I will stop worrying you with my own problems. That, though, is the story of my own life. My trip here from my home was not overlong, nor was it particularly dangerous, though I did spot some Wargs leaving as I neared this place. My closest brush with danger, was that. I do not believe that my father would count that among the great deeds of my fore-fathers!"

Once more Rie laughed, this time sincerely. Her eyes looked like a weight had been taken off her shoulders, and she was even sitting straighter. "Many thanks for listening to me, lady, though my tale wasn't as epic as some. Hopefully that will change. Now, what news of the Shire? For I love this land and would dearly love to hear more of it."

[Deorlin]

Deorlin pushed his empty bowl aside with a determined grunt.

"I had thought to pass a quiet night here at this comfortable inn. But these rumors of Gondor have unsettled me mightily. I must forego the pleasure of a warm bed and take the road south at once." He sighed, imagining the hard, cold ground he would catch a few hours of exhausted sleep on in the small hours of the night.

"Well, Sadbh, I wish I could stay and tend to your horse. But I've done the best I can for now. Another dose of the same mix in the morning will probably set him right. Achae, I hope your journeys lead you to exciting adventures - but my experience lately has been long journeys usually mean many boring hours in the saddle and having to put up with quiet a bit of discomfort. Not that I'm complaining!" He grinned at the young woman.

"Ladies, I'll take my leave of your pleasant company, most unwillingly. Perhaps your travels will bring you south to Rohan, and I can offer you the hospitality of my family home in the Westfold. Just ask for me or my father, Deorwine. Or, if you'd like to start your adventure right now, Achae, or if you, Sadbh, wish to search for the prince in the southern realms, just saddle up and we'll ride together!" He laughed, a loud hearty sound that caused a few heads in the tavern to turn.

Deorlin then rose from the table and nodded his head in a parting salute.

[Nurumaiel]

Robin looked around, trying to find someone she recognized, but there were so many in the room it was quite impossible. Sighing, she looked over at Dinodas, who was looking at all the elves.

"Elves don't come often to the Shire," he said quietly to Robin. "Not that I don't mind them. Indeed, I enjoy elves sometimes more than hobbits, but it is strange to see so many of them in the Green Dragon."

"What about dwarves?" asked Robin. "And men? The only that would ever come to the Green Dragon in older times were hobbits. I don't mind any of them, but..."

She glanced quickly around to make sure no one was listening, then whispered, "They make me uneasy. They can't be hear just for a pint. There are other inns closer to their homes for that. They must be here for a purpose, and I wonder what it could be."

"You didn't seem too worried when Nurumaiel and Firramer arrived," remarked Dinodas.

"We know them. We don't know these other men and elves and dwarves."

Dinodas smiled at her. "You must have been having nightmares, Robin," he said. "Any other time you would have been overjoyed to see so many other races here. Ah well."

"I'm going to catch a breath of fresh air," said Robin, abruptly changing the subject. How did Dinodas know she had been having nightmares? "There are so many people in here it's getting rather stuffy. Do you want to come?"

"Sorry, but I haven't finished my ale yet," replied Dinodas. Truth to tell, he had finished his ale, but, always being a teaser, wanted Robin to go out in the dark alone. "Don't get lost!" he said cheerfully as she made her way towards the door.

Robin stepped outside and took a few deep breaths. She did not move for awhile, half dreading going back into the inn. If Dinodas had not been inside waiting for her, she would have gone right home. After all, it was late and she was tired. She almost decided to go home in spite of Dinodas, but at that moment she heard the sound of hooves.

In the dim light Robin could make out a slender rider on a grey horse approaching the inn. "An elf," the hobbit lass whispered, feeling once again uneasy. "But what's wrong with me? I'm usually not afraid of elves... it must have been that nightmare."

The elf, for indeed it was an elf, slowed his or her horse gradually until he stood still, and then dismounted.

The elf was tall, with long dark hair that fell to her waist, and dark eyes full of wisdom. She was clad in a simple brown riding dress, but she walked proudly and gracefully. A young hobbit lad came out of the stable and took her horse, and she smiled gently at him. Looking around her as she moved towards the door of the inn, she saw Robin, half hiding in the shadows.

"Come out, little hobbit," the elf said kindly, and Robin stepped out. "Tell me, what is your name?"

"Robin Brandybuck," replied Robin. "If you don't mind me asking, what's yours?"

"Lindelot, you may call me," the elf replied. "This is the Green Dragon inn, is it not?"

"Yes," said Robin, and suddenly found herself smiling, once again at ease. "Won't you come in?"

She led Lindelot into the inn and asked what she would have to drink.

"I need nothing, hobbit maid," Lindelot answered, smiling softly, "but a chair to rest my weary limbs, and perhaps another elf to speak with."

"You'll find many an elf here tonight," said Robin. "But I thought elves couldn't be weary?"

"They may be weary, maid," Lindelot said, her face gentle and sad. "Be it weary of heart or weary of the land in which they live."

And is that why you're passing through the Shire? thought Robin, but did not dare to say it aloud. Smiling farewell to the elf, she went back to Dinodas.

[Schmendrick]

Right behind her had followed another figure, so quietly that she hadn't heard a thing.

The dark figure slipped in and hoped that his presence could go as unnoticed as possible. Some, however, turned to look at him, as he passed. They saw a noble man, dressed like a ranger, making his way to the counter. He had black hair and calm, grey eyes and his skin was so white that it looked like he had never seen the sun.
There was something mysterious about him, something intimidating, but it wasn't easy to tell, what it was.

He ordered an ale and the strange accent in his speech could be clearly heard. He looked around at the Inn and could not see any familiar faces. He sat in a dark corner and didn't touch his beer.

"Well, what did you expect, you fool?" he said angrily to himself. "You knew you couldn't find him here. You can never find him." With his right hand he touched the silvery necklace that glimmered on his chest and sank deep in his thoughts.

OOC: Please see my private message.

Child

[ December 27, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Carlas]

The young elf walked silently into The Green Dragon, wanting to find shelter from the pouring rain. She looked around at all the faces in the crowd. Some seemed very cheerful, drinking and laughing with one another, others watched silently in the shadows.

The elf sat down at one of the tables though it was quite small for her.She had not gotten used to the size of everything in the Shire, having just arrived the night before.

She had left Rivendell weeks ago, for she had been banished. Her heart ached as she thought back to that day, if only she could take back what she had done.

She sat back in her chair. No she thought, he deserved to die.

[Merri]

She had fallen asleep, her cheek resting on the table.

Elanor sat up with a start, sore all over from the uncomfortable position she'd been in, and so the hobbit girl made her way over to the inn keeper. "Please, Miss Pio," She said, in that halting way she had. She recalled the name from a conversation she'd overheard earlier in the night. She wasn't sure if that was actually the inn keeper's name or not, or if she was the inn keeper, but as long as Elanor got a nice bed to sleep on for the night, nothing else really mattered. "Could I have a room for the night?"

[piosenniel]

'Elanor, is it not?' said Pio, looking down at the sleep rumpled Hobbit. 'Rooms we have - very nice ones.' She looked the lass over. 'And how will you be paying for this needed room, Miss?'

Elanor turned her sleep dusted eyes up to the Elf. 'I see.' remarked Pio, a half smile on her face. 'Lucky for you my dearest friend is a Hobbit. And I know they make good on promises.' She handed Elanor the key to #4 saying, 'We shall settle the bill in the morning. I shall need some help clearing up the place for the morning crowd, and one of my serving-maids has been called home to care for her ailing Da.' She held up a Hobbit-sized apron, measuring it against Elanor's petite frame.

'This should fit you, if we roll it a bit at the waist.' She folded the apron and placed it in the hands of the drowsy Hobbit. 'Now off to bed with you! The day starts bright and quite early in the Dragon!'

[Dark Shadow]

From where he sat, Erdaminéon looked up at the young Elf in interest. He had seen her enter out of the corner of his eyes, and now he turned his sight to study her properly. From the way she had entered, he could tell that like himself she wished her presence to go un noticed. A good attempt he though, but he was simply not quiet enough to escape his attention. She was hiding something. He searched her carefully, knowing that she felt his stare, but would not let on that she was aware of him. A sense of dislike stirred somewhere inside him and he looked away.

“What she is hiding is maybe not as innocent as one might think of an Elf of her years.” He murmured to himself, forgetting his company for a second.

“She runs from something.” He added, before looking apologetically at the woman across the table.

“Please continue,” he said casting another glance in the newcomer’s direction. Again he was sure she had felt it, but he was not going to press the issue any further. He was sure that one of those who had questioned him would discover her soon enough, it was not his business to ask questions.

[ December 28, 2002: Message edited by: Dark Shadow ]

[Schmendrick]

The pale-faced stranger had also noticed the newcomer. She looked somehow familiar to him, but he couldn't place her in his memory.

He leaned forward, careful not to arouse any unwanted attention (It seemed to him that those avoiding that were many indeed that night!), and overheard the discussion on the table next to him.

"She's running from something", a husky voice said.

"Aren't we all?" he wanted to ask, but saw it better to keep quiet. He turned back to observe the young Elf and met her eyes staring right back at him.

Quickly he turned his eyes away, embarrased. He sipped his beer, trying to stay calm.

Where had he seen that look before? Did he really know her or did she only remind him of somebody else?

[Carlas]

The young elf noticed the pale man lookin at her.She new him but it seemed he did not remember her.She looked away quickly glad he did not.

The room seemed quieter, and she new she had been noticed by some. She reached down into her cloak, touching the hilt of her knife. Lets hope they stay quiet she thought silently to herself.

[Schmendrick]

The pale man had noticed the look of relief on the Elf's face. He was now sure he had seen her before, but didn't risk looking at her anymore. He tried searching in his memory instead.

He didn't like doing that, though. His past was dark, there was no denying that. Solitude and misery had filled his days from the beginning. And the secret he couldn't share with anyone.

He felt the room getting dizzier in his eyes. What was he doing here anyway? The only place where he felt at home, was the forest. The darker the better.

It all seemed injust to him. After all, he had not done anything. Why was he to blame for the mistakes of his father?

[ December 28, 2002: Message edited by: Schmendrick ]

[Merri]

"Thank you very much- I'll do the best I can to help you, though I must say I'm not one for domestic chores." Or, at least, she started to say that, for she yawned about half-way through her sentence.

Elanor wondered how it was that the inn keeper could tell about her state of finances so quickly. After all, she wasn't dressed so poorly. Perhaps her reputation had spread, though. One day, as she was sitting a bookstore, she had overheard a woman talking to her friend about that 'queer Elanor Greenthumb'. She had said exactly this:

"This is what I've heard about that Elanor Greenthumb- ever since the girl's father disappeared, her family has been pretty short on money," The woman had whispered. "While her mother was alive, Elanor was pretty good about saving it- but now she spends most of it on books, and whatever else she has left is spent on clothing and food."

Strange how fast reputations spread, Elanor mused as she climbed up the stairs sleepily. They seem to spread faster than people, nowadays.

[ December 27, 2002: Message edited by: Merri ]

[Orual]

Talmérië smiled as Piosenniel left, hearing her name. "I shall get news of the Shire elsewhere, and later," Rie assured herself, then chuckled, adding: "If there is any to be heard!"

Still laughing, she went back to gazing around the room. Such an assortment of people! Elves, Men, Hobbits...even the occasional Dwarf. What a strange place--and in the Shire, who would have thought? She was running her fingers through her short hair, when she caught sight of a newcomer. She sat up straight. Like a Ranger he looked, deathly pale with dark hair. She leaned forward, trying to catch a look at his face. When she saw it, she did not recognize it. To be sure, she did not know every Ranger who walked Middle-earth, but she knew a good number of her father's kin. Yet she felt hesitant to approach him, as he seemed pre-occupied and troubled. Is everyone running from something, or to something, like I? she thought, fingering a bracelet of fine links that her mother had forged for her. Finally she gathered her courage and went up to him.

"My lord, what business has a Ranger in the Shire?"

[Rai]

The young woman quietly walks in. She came from Gondor, where her father, a silversmith, had been accused of trason and banished. She set out on her own to find a new life elsewhere.

She is slim, but her eyes glow with a curious bronze-gold color, and close-cropped hair, a copper.

She looks human, but her aura alludes to her Elfin heritage, for she is a human-Elf hybrid. She carries a sword, and sits at a dark corner table. Her mere presence is enough to send the party there scattering for another location. The young woman sits down and takes a notebook out of her pack, and hastily pens a song. She asks for nothing.

Her name is Jatyn Coolheart.

~*The winds of evil flag against me, yet I am immovable."*~

[ December 28, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[My Cat Sasha]

A girl around the age of 14 enters and sits alone at a table. Her long brown hair is pulled back in two braids. She is Aria of Rohan. She is a very good rider. Not one of the best, but she's good for her age. Her horse is called Polaris.

As far as anyone has been able to tell, she isn't anything out of the ordinary. She seems to like it that way.

OOC: Please see my private message--Cami Goodchild, Assistant Innkeeper

[ December 27, 2002: Message edited by: My Cat Sasha ]

[ December 28, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Eruantalon]

Along the lonely road a weary travler sees the lights of the inn.He is a tall man and has dark hair that comes down to his shoulder.His eyes are also dark and piercing a light shines in his pale face.

He is clad in a long gray coat with a bow Two thirds of his hight, a sword just as long, and an ax just of equal length but almost as broad as his shoulders.These he wears with a large pack across his back.

He enters the inn some notice his arrival and some pay no mind.He asks for some ale fresh bread and there best cheese.He then walks over to the tabel in the corner of the room between the fire and the window.

All the while he eats and drinks with a broad smile on his face but after he is done his face slowly grows dim and worriesome.

He draws a fine long pipe and takes out a large satchel of pipe weed and lights it.In the light of the ambers of his pipe the deep red stripes in his beard are visabel.Two red and blone mingled stripes on his chin with a brown stripe down the center and wheat golden edges on the corners of his mouth.

The smell of the pipe weed is fragrent and soft a smile enters his face as he enjoys it.he sets his feet on the chair besides him and begins to relax from his weary and long journy. smilies/redface.gif

[doug*platypus]

It was shortly after sundown, when a youngish hobbit stepped in off the road. Hanging his hat up, he stopped to take in a view of the inn and its patrons. Smiling politely here and there where the good folk acknowledged him, he spotted the bar and headed over. Although the lone hobbit had a certain air of confidence about him, it was plain that he was new to this particular inn.

"Hello, there, Master Dwarf!" he said to the barkeeper, "I guess you must be Mr. Dwarin Thunderhammer! Pleased to meet you! Biffo, I am. Or Mr. Proudfoot, if ya like. I'll have a pint of your best ale!"

The stocky innkeeper named his price. "Ooh, ah... better make that the second best then!" Biffo replied with a wink and a laugh. Thanking Dwarin for the ale, the hobbit looked around for somewhere to sit down.

[ December 28, 2002: Message edited by: doug*platypus ]

[Farrehn]

The door peeped open and soon a woman entered. She was neither tall nor short. As Half-elf, she wore rich garments and on her back was a cursed sword that she bore with her everywhere. She threw back her black wool cloak hood and took a seat near the door. She noted the friendly Hobbit and slightly smiled. She only ordered some water.

She drank long and deep, grateful for the taste of clean water. Her journey had been long, and dark. She was glad to be in the light of the Green Dragon. It gave her comfort.

[ December 28, 2002: Message edited by: Farrehn ]

[doug*platypus]

After wandering casually around one side of the inn, Biffo headed over to an empty table near the door, not too far from where this curious new entry was. After a couple of sips of his ale, he attempted to start up a conversation (which was never one of his strong points!)...

"Say, that's an interesting looking sword, there, Miss! Bet you didn't get that around here, then did ya?"

[piosenniel]

Farrehn

Please check your private messages.

ALL POSTERS

The Dwarf Inkeeper, Dwarin, is away from the Inn for a while. In the meantime Piosenniel is tending bar and Cami is assisting her.

[Schmendrick]

The pale stranger was still deep in thoughts, the shadows of the past darkening his face, when he saw a young woman approaching him.

The stranger knew at once, who's kin she was, the red hair and bright green eyes making it obvious that she was in some way related to Almarien.

He knew Almarien and his sons, knew them as anyone living in the wilds would. But they did not know him.

A bitter smile spread over his face, making him look suddenly older. No doubt Almarien had heard speak of his father.

He got up, took his cloak and smiled apologetically to the woman as he rushed past her and into the night. He couldn't risk being recognized.

For a while he stayed there, outside the Inn, leaning to its wooden door and watching the stars high above. He could still hear the distant voices and laughter from inside.

"This is how it's always going to be," he said to himself. "Always."

[ December 28, 2002: Message edited by: Schmendrick ]

[doug*platypus]

"Goodness me!" Biffo exclaimed, "I could have sworn that young lass was a dwarf! Oh, dear, just like me to put my foot in it."

Nothing for it but to attend to his ale. Biffo picked up the tankard in both of his worn but still-young hands, and tried his best to stop the embarrassment rising to flush his face.

[Carlas]

The young elf watched as the hobbit sat down across the room from her.

They are strange folk, she thought silently to herself. Not a care in the world, minding their own business. Living totally separate lives from us.

A smile swept across her face, then she noticed the pale man walking out into the streets.

"He does not want to be recognized." She said quietly to herself "Too late."

She stood up and walked quietly out of the inn. The man was outside and she took no notice of him, not wishing to speak with him.

She new she would come back to this place some time, it was a very welcoming place, but she had things to do first.

[Eruantalon]

Eruantalon takes out a beautifully adorned instrument, and the inn keeper comes over to give him another pint of ale.

He says "Would you like to give us all a song sir"

the stranger smiles and says if it is no to great a bother to the orther.The inn keeper goes to ask the orthers when Eruantalon gestures for him to come near.

"What was that you where needing sir"he says.

"I see a tighered travler of the first born over across with red hair and bright green eyes ask here if she would like to hear a song of the Qeen of the stars and the light of the two trees."He says to the inn keeper.

"Your a friend of the Elvin folk sir" replies the inn keeper.

"This might be said of me" responds Eruantalon.

[Dark Shadow]

He looked up, a cold smile spreading across his face as he saw the young Elf leave the inn. Earlier he had unmistakably seen her reach below her cloak for what was bound to be a knife or blade of some description. Yes, the best way to remain unnoticed. Draw a sword on someone. The thought made him laugh for some reason. Oh well. She was obviously new to the hiding business. He was an old player in that game, but still attracted far too much attention.

He drank from the tankard again, and set it back on the table. Well, he attracted attention as it was, and he certainly had no intentions of turning his sword on any of the customers at the inn. There seemed to be many visitors that night, who like himself wished to remain anonymous. Although she had been the first that night to show signs of carrying a weapon, he had no doubts that there were many others in the common room who would jump at the chance of a fight. He sighed. The Shire should not be this way. It used to be a peaceful refuge, but now had become a lair for dark unknown strangers, himself being one of them. And yet the Hobbits and Men of the area remained cheerful and bright. How, he did not know. This was another unanswered question that preyed on his mind, and he once more became consumed by dark questions.

[ December 28, 2002: Message edited by: Dark Shadow ]

[Orual]

Rie frowned as the stranger rushed past her, seemingly anxious to avoid conversation. Yet, there had been a light of recognition in his eyes, and in that strange smile: he knew who she was, or at least who her father was. Why had he left so suddenly? "Well," she said to herself, "perhaps it's just as well. Word might have gotten back to my father of my whereabouts, and then where would I be? Back at home, tied to the forge again! A pretty fate!"

With a little sigh of both frustration and confusion, she went back to her seat, but did not return to her drink. She had things to think about.

"--traveler of the first born over across with red hair and bright green eyes--"

Rie looked up at this description, presumably of herself. "First Born!" she thought, smiling. "If only." She leaned back in her chair, assuming a rather awkward and less than inconspicuous position, to catch another look at the stranger who was talking about her.

[Carlas]

It had only been an hour or two when the elf walked back into the inn. Her hazel eyes scanned the inn carefully as she sat down, now at a different table.

She had gone to visit an old friend of hers, in need of advice. He had been quite surprised to see her, but welcomed her all the same. They had chatted for a time untill she had decided to return to the Green Dragon for the night.

She was not in the mood to find a room just yet and decided to think things over.

She noticed a tall dark man taking out a a beautiful instrument, the likes of which she had never seen.

She sighed and thought back, when she had not the troubles she had now.

[piosenniel]

'Now where was that Hobbit when she needed her?' Pio placed a great flagon of ale, a pitcher of water, and a flagon of hearty red wine on a tray and passed through the room, refreshing the empty tankards and cups of the patrons in the common room. tray ehld high above her head, she negotiated the jostling crowd, weaving her way between the clumps of drinkers telling tall tales and embroidered stories to their captive audience.

'Biffo, is it?.' she said, smiling prettily at him just to see him blush, as she topped off his drink and moved on.

On to the table where the newcomer, a woman in rich garment sat, a sword slung on her back. Fresh water for her, and a reminder that the weapon need stay sheathed while she was in the Inn - lest she feel of sting of Pio's knife stay her arm.

The Elf's eyes followed the two who had just exited, and saw them walk their separate ways - a pale stranger and a young Elf. Off on some hidden business of their own she supposed.

She saw the tall dark man take out his instrument and clean the dust from his journey from it. Smiling, she approached him, asking what it is he might wish to drink, and would he play a song for them. He replied in kind:

"I see a tighered travler of the first born over across with red hair and bright green eyes ask here if she would like to hear a song of the Qeen of the stars and the light of the two trees."He says to the inn keeper.

"Your a friend of the Elvin folk sir" replies the inn keeper.

"This might be said of me" responds Eruantalon.

'Ah! Another of the elendili! Well met! My name is Piosenniel, or Pio, if you prefer. A Telerin - so if you have any of the ancient songs to sing, I would be grateful.' She topped off his ale, and called out to Rie. 'Here is one who would sing for you if you so desire - will you listen to a song or two?'

She moved on to her last stop - the fair haired wanderer's table. Placing her now empty tray on the table, she sat down with him once again, and watched the trailings of dark thoughts weave like mists behind his eyes. He gave a grudging smile as she perused his face, thankful that her questions, for this time at least, seemed done.

He tensed as she reached beneath her apron, but she laughed, a sound like the riffling of a small stream's waters as it rushes over pebbles to join merrily with the sea. And then relaxed as she drew from the pocket of her breeches a leathern pouch, a silvered flask, worked with traceries of gold encircling a scarlet heart within it.

'Elendil, I shall call you, my unnamed Elf-friend. Will you share a taste of Elvendom with me?'

She did not wait for his answer, but poured two drinks of miruvor in small silvered cups from out the pouch, pushing one of them toward him, the golden liquid catching the light of the lantern.

'To strangers of the road.' she said quietly, holding her cup up to him. 'And to friends of old and those yet to be made . . .'

[ December 29, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[arelendil]

Long Elwen stood in a grassy space just off the path from the door of The Green Dragon. Elwen sighed, how long had she been her? She couldn't tell. Time had passed like the swift river without beginning or end clear.

Slowly Elwen wandered around the pub. She had come full circle, when she had arrived she had sat just here beneath the branches of the silver birch, there leaves whispering in the evening winds. And now, back where she had begun, she knew that she had found a friend in the pub that would stay with her forever.

"Every spirit you will ever met will leave an imprint upon yours." Elwen whispered to herself. "One of the five great rules of the star people. And now I do believe it is high time that I met another."

The trees whispered their agreement and Elwen sprang to her feet. Sweeping her hood back she arranged her hair so it fell down her back instead of in her face. A laughter filled her and burst out in waterfalls of joy and happiness. Her fingers played over the silver ring on her left hand and she skipped a few steps taught to her by the fair lady Nostawen.

Up the steps Elwen ran, light headed with joy and light. She pushed the door to the pub wide open letting the fire light spill out and the moon light shine in.

Over the threshold Elwen sprang, light and nimble on elven feet. Bowing to the company now gathered she began,"Greetings and well met my friends. When I entered before I was weary with much grief and toll, and did not introduce myself. But Soronûmë has rid me of such feelings and though he has departed a wish to stay a while to enjoy the company of The Green Dragon."

Elwen smiled and flung her cloak on a nearby hook. Her eyes flashed in the fire light as her light spread and engulfed the company seated nearby. Over come with joy Elwen span in a circle, round and round. Her dress flying out and the gems in her hair glittering with the fire light and the light that was reflected up from Elwen herself.

Slowly Elwen came to a stop, a sigh of contentment coming from the heart. She bowed again. Laughing she flick her hair back, shaking loose curls back in to place. Her steps quick and light making no sound of foot fall. Not that it would have mattered for the noise was great for such a small building. Elwen weaved her way though the many people and found her way to the crowded bar.

[ December 28, 2002: Message edited by: arelendil ]

[Merri]

Elanor was awakened by the sudden noise of new arrivals in the inn. What am I doing already getting ready for bed? She wondered. I told the inn keeper I'd help her . . . She pulled her dress back on, and ran down the stairs towards her, holding her new apron under one arm.

Miss Pio was talking to a stranger when Elanor got there, so she stood to the side, waiting, wishing she had a book or two on hand.

[Eruantalon]

Eruantalon laughed and enjoyed the company and then stood up to his full hight.He proceeded to remove the weapons and the satchel from his back.

"Hello good stranges I see many wanders and tighered spirts here I have a song that will make even the wearyest draw strength anew"He spoke calmly.

"I am Eruantalon in the speach of the Noldar it is gift of Eru I give gifts to all that need them in dark time and in light" he trailed off.

"This song is played apon a instrument of the Maier of the valar and the song I sing is sung in Lorien where all may find peace even the valar,and was taught to me by the servent of Lorien"Eruantalon said with a smile

"It is raught with the beauty of the blessed realm and will give peace to all"he said as he smiled.

"it is a gift in return for the pericious elvin drink that was so happely given to me and with it the strenth to sing"he said now brightly and joyously.

As Eruantalon sang slowly a hush was apon the crowd until he began to play on his instrument the sound of it was gentle but the note of it rang out into the entire building.So that even the floor gently shuddered as he played.

He raised his voice and the light of the fire grew so bright that it turned white and in the inn it was as if a fair spring day was in its noon time.The whole of the room was filled with the smell of fragrent flowers like a meadow.

Now none that where outside stayed there all where drawen in to the sound of the fair music all hearts where lightened of there burden and peace was given for a time while he sang.So that even the ground itself under there feet felt warm in the light of Eruantalons song.

As he played the unseen ring apon his finger seemed to be set on fire.In his eyes was great joy and laughter and a smile of joy was on his face.So that even his eyes shone brightly.

So he sang and in the minds of all there the meadow the stream the vallys and mountains where all in there thoughts.His poetry and music took all pain from everyone there and they where inchanted by him so that none even knew where they where but in the fair place of his song.

And at the end of it more time had passed then anyone had realized.Then slowly the light of the song dimed and faded so that the inn was as it once was.None talked but only smiled and sat quitly as he gathered his thing togther and light another pipe full of weed.

He then said to the elves besides him that after his smoke he should find some sleep.So he sat as one of them said.............................................. ........................................

[Carlas]

The elf become calmer as the song weaved through her. She forgot about all her troubles and she found herself in a world of bliss.

"Do you know many songs like that?" she asked after the man had finished and sat down."It was very beautiful."

[ December 29, 2002: Message edited by: Carlas ]

[Merri]

Elanor was immediately captivated by the singer. She had seen or heard nothing like him before in her life, and wondered if she ever would again.

She stood beside the innkeeper, unnoticed for the time being, immersed in the supreme joy that music brought her. Her eyes were closed, and one might have thought that the hobbit had fallen asleep on her feet. She awoke and looked directly into the singer's eyes.

"That was beautiful," She said, then smiled her lopsided smile. "Music is the greatest gift given to Middle Earth."

[ December 28, 2002: Message edited by: Merri ]

[Eruantalon]

Warmth entered Eruantalons face I know all the songs of the blessed realm,the first born,the dwarfs, and men.Yes I know many song much like this they where taught to me by the Vanyar of the blessed realm.

That when Manwe bid them they sing.I also have added many of my own songs to there lists.For Manwe loves music more than any orther it is said.

"If it gives you such great joy I will make shure that any time I am near the green dragon I will stop by if I can" said he.


"Yes it is " he responded "is it not true that all is the music of Eru" Eruantalon replied.

"So was his gift to me to understand and love all that is in Arda and to rejoice in it with music.So for that I was given even more gifts made many times over to help all that need"Eruantalon said intensly.

As he smoked he intenly he said"It is my fate so if there are any true of hart who need help on great deeds I am ready and will"

"My great ax is mithril light as air,my sword was wrough by the Noldar befor the darking of the Valar,my bow was once used by the bowman of Gonlolin the fair elvin city that is no more"

"But I hail from Gondor but have traveled long to the blue mountains where I aided in the deed that gave me this ax."

As time war on he seemed weary and saw iin the faces of the orthers many questions.Some hid themself since the moment he entered.Some hid themselfs even before he entered.But he saw and felt no dark presnce here so he was no afraid lest anyone would take arms it would only cause pain.He did no see any reason for that.

But he hid himself not nor his weapons and welcomed all to his tabel and saw no reason not to go to orthers.

[doug*platypus]

Biffo Proudfoot, mustering his courage, finally made a move towards the strange wayfarer's table. Smiling stupidly and politely to the Elf-maiden as he went, Biffo addressed the man.

"Mind if I, er, sit down?" he asked, and without waiting for reply plonked himself down next to the minstrel, so that he could still see the door, the Elf and of course the all-important bar.

"Very fine stuff, sir, if I may say so. All too seldom are folk like yourself seen in The Shire. Reminded me of Elves, your song did. Yes... Elves, and mountains! To your health!" Biffo raised his tankard.

[Orual]

Rie had come immediately when Pio had told her that the stranger had indeed been talking about her. Before she could introduce herself, the man began to play on his instrument, and Rie found no words. Her heart swelled with joy and her green eyes danced as he played, and she felt a peace that she had not felt since long before she had left her father's house. She watched the man's face as he played, and it seemed that his face was transformed as he weaved the notes into a seamless tapestry. She hardly heard his words, but they touched her spirit. When he was done, the final note seemed to linger in the air, as though to seperate only gently the listener from the music. Rie would have laughed for pure joy, had anyone else been making any sound, but she contented herself with taking a deep breath (and the air itself seemed sweet after the song) and smiling. When the other patrons began to speak once more, she leapt from her seat and ran over to the singer's table. She waited patiently for the others who had gathered around him to speak, then she caught his eye and bowed low from the waist.

"My lord, please accept my sincerest thanks for your wonderful song. Never in my life have I heard anything so beautiful. You were speaking of me earlier, and you asked if I would like to hear a song. Lord, anything that you sing I would rejoice to hear! My thanks again, and the service of Talmérië daughter of Almarien, whatever aid that may bring you." Again Rie bowed, and with one last smile she went back to her seat, trying to capture the song and the stranger's voice in her memory forever.

[ December 28, 2002: Message edited by: Orual ]

[Eruantalon]

Euanalon warmly greated the hobbit"yes hello there it is a joy to give the song to you"he said.

"Ah yes mountains you say do you like them I just recently came from the blue mountains aiding the dwarf lords with there task.They lent me this fine ax for my duty and the strangest thing is at the nort eastern base of the mountain I found my pipe weed patch.It has been there for vary long and I make shure to gather some when I am near it.I know not who planted it there but it grow freely. It is the most fragrent but is strong yet mild to the taste and is my favorite.I make shure to get as much as I can whe I go would you like to try some"He said long windedly.

He the then offered the hobbit his pipe after he drew apon it.Take heed it is strong.

[doug*platypus]

Biffo gulped down his mouthful of ale, an impressed look upon his bright face.

"Well!" he excalaimed, in the general direction of the man seated next to him, "you are a popular one! P'rhaps I should've brought my little reed whistle with me! Maybe you should invite one of those Elf girls over!"

[ December 28, 2002: Message edited by: doug*platypus ]

[doug*platypus]

"Why, yes, thank ye kindly sir!" Biffo said as he reached for the man's pipe. Taking a long, practiced draw, he exhaled slowly, a smile rising to his features. It was good. Not of course, the match for the Old Toady he had come into a week ago. Biffo still had a small amount of this in his pocket, but he made it his policy never to turn down a kind offer such as this man's. 'Pays not to cause offence,' he thought, 'after all that's a mighty sharp-looking axe!' Besides, Biffo was clearly interested in this fellow, and took the chance to talk.

"Ah, a very fine crop," Biffo said as he passed the pipe back. "The Blue Mountains, you say? Indeed? I'd really like to go there - see some Dwarves, perhaps. You, ah, wouldn't be going back anytime soon... would you?" Biffo now looked as eager and inquisitive, as he had been relaxed before.

[ December 28, 2002: Message edited by: doug*platypus ]

[cheeto]

Belle Proudfoot,a young hobbit ran through the door of the Inn. She was almost of age,
with thick, curly red hair. Strangely enough, she wore a nightgown and shorts.

"Biffo? Why are you smoking in the barn? We weren't expecting you to visit for a few days, and I didn't expect the other relatives to be so tall....but I'm sure I'll meet them in the morning..."

She walked over and sat at a table, then fell asleep. The ones that knew her didn't pay her much mind, since she had a terrible habit of sleepwalking! And as long as she didn't get into people's houses(the scandal of her breaking into Hilda Took's house was still being talked about), no one minded her strange ways.

After a rest,she heard a beautiful song and woke up. "Well, the music here is worth staying for. The Green Dragon? hmmm" She looked towards the bar. "I'll have my usual tea,and apologies for showing up at this hour, but if the music is always like this at this time,I should come more often."

She looked over at Biffo and said,"Hmmm, I guess he is visiting these parts."

(this didn't exactly paste the way I wanted it to,so pardon any new grammer mistakes)

[ December 29, 2002: Message edited by: cheeto ]

Post edited for paragraphs --Cami

[ December 29, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Eruantalon]

ERUANTALON

Please check your private messages.

This space saved for re-worked post

[ December 29, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[doug*platypus]

"Hallo there, Belle!" Biffo called across the room with a wave, "just come over from Frogmorton this very day! Nice to see you!"

"Gawh, not another blinking relative," he said, much more quietly, "can't even remember how we're related, there's so blinkin' many of 'em!"

He turned to the man next to him: "Sorry, sir, did you say something? Couldn't quite catch that! Oh, by the way where are my manners! I'm Biffo. Biffo Proudfoot, of Frogmorton, mostly." he stood and extended his hand.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami was a small but determined hobbit who insisted that the visitors to the Inn be careful about the rules.

On seeing that Biffo and Eruantalon were engaging in a series of chat-style posts, she went over to their tables and glared at them.

"If you want to chat, go to the chatroom. This is a place for real writing. Go look at the rules in the Red Book of Westmarch. I know both of you can do better than this."

Meanwhile, both of you are sentenced to washing dishes, and if I see any more posts like this, we'll wave a magic wand and they'll mysteriously disappear.

She led them back into the kitchen where mounds and mounds of dishes awaited their attention.

[Eruantalon]

Eruantalon seeing he had done wrong by the inn was suddenly taken to the kitchen.He was not offended or upset but quitly wash all that was given to him.So work of this kind would not upset him he worked or was he to proud to do tigherlessly.While he did so he sang a song to pass the time.


Beauty was seen by the sea.
She walked along so tigherlessly.

As stars did fade and daylight broke.

Her hart was set warm and ever free.
To walk among the ever green.

So fair her eyes like billows of smoke.

So in here face the light that did shine.
Our fate like willow roots will ever intwine.

She was the daught of the white water folk.

My story and heres the end is not clear for so long it is since I'v seen dear windamere.

So he sang untill his work was complete.But he was vary tighersome.

[Schmendrick]

The pale stranger was already walking reluctantly to the stables, when he heard some music from the Inn.

It wasn't like any music he had heard before. He stood still, unable to move and felt the music fill his heart with a longing and grief almost unbearable.

It seemed to him that the whole world had stopped to listen. No birds could be heard, even the wind was resting.

What was the song about, he could not tell. To him it spoke of many forgotten things, but this time he felt the hope rise in his heart.

For a moment he forgot all his troubles, all the long solitary years behind him and he felt as he was just a young boy, the future spreading bright ahead of him, full of adventures and possibilities.

At that moment the music stopped. He felt the weight returning to his body, pulling him down against the ground. Great was his desire to cry, when he remembered again where he was and above all- who he was.

He watched the stars again and remembered his stay with the Elves. For a fleeting moment he played with the idea of returning to them.

"You know you can't do that. You have made yourself another promise and to that you must hold," he said to himself, as he walked toward the Inn, like in a dream.

He was determined now to go back. What a fool he had been to rush out like that! No doubt had he offended the young woman greatly! And yet, she might have been able to help him.

He opened the door and slipped back inside, taking a seat next to the door. "That's right, hide in the shadows, if you want company", he said bitterly to himself. "No one will even notice you here!"

But the habit of hiding was deeply rooted in him.

[ December 29, 2002: Message edited by: Schmendrick ]

[ December 29, 2002: Message edited by: Schmendrick ]

[ December 29, 2002: Message edited by: Schmendrick ]

[Dark Shadow]

"Perhaps." he replied quietly. He nodded his head slightly, lifted his cup to meet hers, and a real smile formed for the first time in ages. Pio was certainly resilient. She wasn’t going to give up easily. That was somewhat a comfort to him, knowing that someone cared enough not to give up on him. He looked at her studying her as he had done to many of the patrons. She had a sense of kindness about her, she was kind and firm. Obviously not someone to argue with, not that he had any intentions of arguing with anyone.

“I thank you again,” he said calmly, “for you have treated me well ever since I entered your inn. It is very much appreciated, despite what you may have been led to believe by my somewhat hostile manner.” His laugh was quiet, and had an unused sound to it. Slightly faded, as though it had once been as Pio’s, light and beautiful, but had become diminished over the years.

He began to wonder just how long it would be before questions begun again, but was suddenly pressed to ask,

“Who is she? The one who has just re-entered the inn.” He nodded towards the young Elf who seemed less than innocent. “Although I am not one to question the doings of others I should greatly like to know of her and her purpose.”

[ December 29, 2002: Message edited by: Dark Shadow ]

[arelendil]

As before people seemed to not notice Elwen, sitting quietly on her stool. A gentle smile spread across her face. This time it didn't bother her. Her passing friend had taken the sorrow she had felt with him.

The music moments before had reminded her of memories long forgotten, memories of before her fall. When she had been but a simple star maiden, a guide to the spirits tied to Arda. How her heart leaped to think of such times, times when she had played in the heavens and watch the movements of many.

Elwen felt like she should share with the company gathered her favourite song, but there were presents in the pub that were not joyful as she was. the voices of their thoughts echoed in the still air of the pub. Elwen took a deep breath and stood up.

"Though many may like to sit quietly unnoticed in corners, I think it is high time that the company was once more made merry. Too many hide in shadow and slip here and there in dark and gloom. Come my friends will you not dance and sing at least for a while?"

Elwen looked around the crowded room but caught no one's eye. Elwen laughed softly, like the light of a clouded moon it seem, brilliant but hidden from total view. Her light grew about her, shining and shimmering.

"Well then if no one else will, I shall have to take the honour to myself!" Elwen moved, quick and silent to the centre of the room.

Dance all ye joyful, now dance altogether
The wind's in the treetops, the wind's in the heather.
The stars are in blossom, the moon is in flower
And bright of the windows of night in her tower

Sing all ye joyful, now sing altogether
Soft is the grass and let foot be like feather
The river is silver, the shadows are fleeting
Merry is May time and merry are meeting.

Elwen gave a little bow but didn't step away instead she reveiled a small silver flute. Delicate and slender, with the marks of vines and leaves twirling slowly around it.

"Though the master of this instrument is gone he taught me well and though my skill will never be as his I will play for the memories bring me joy."

Elwen ran delicate fingers down the flute. Gently setting the flute to her mouth Elwen began to play. Her favourite piece the first she had ever heard played upon this instrument. Like long ago the music twisted and twirled, like smoke it intangled the heart and mind, leaving no space unfilled.

The music worked on Elwen too. Her delicate elven feet began to move, the steps taught to her by Nostawen, the fair maiden that Elwen had met in Mirkwood. The steps were quick and nimble even for the feet work of elven songs. The Joy filled Elwen's heart, the joy increase the light that surrounded Elwen. Now she could no longer hide for her light shone forth with all the glory of the heavens. It burned white with edges of pale blue, a gentle star maiden upon the earth.

[Rai]

Jatyn heard the music, beautiful and lulling, and looked up. She could tell it was Elven, not unlike her own songs. She, too, had a song to sing.

Standing,she cleared her throat and waited for the attention to be focused on her. Finding none, she began to sing. Her voice was soprano, yet retained an alto's darkness. The words were in a language she had made up, but it spoke of war and peace, night and day.

**************************************
Edited into paragraphs - nice post!

[ December 29, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Eruantalon]

As he washed the last of the dishes Eurantalon saw the inn keeper enter the kitchen.She seemed to pay no more mind than to notice he was done.

"What fair music I hear outside and dancing none the less"he said slowly.

"I guess if I had payed more mind to the rules of the inn I would not be so tighered and want to join them"as he said this he took out two golden coins.

"I hope that this will pay for a room and the food I have recieved"he said as he yawned.

So he made his way off to a room gathering all of his belongings from the kitchen floor.So he made ready for bed as be began to close his eyes he thoght that maby an adventure might come his way tommarow,and hopefrully it did not have dish washing in it.

[Carlas]

The young elf sat for a time, enjoying the music that swam all about her. Eventually, she became tired and decided to find a room for the night.

She stood up and walked over to the innkeeper and asked her if there were any rooms available. There were, so she paid the innkeeper and walked silently to her room.

[Orual]

Though she had once more drifted off and was paying no heed to the happenings around her, Rie snapped back to the Inn and smiled broadly at the new song. "This is a night for music!" she said softly, and rose slowly from her seat and began to dance.

It was a simple dance, taught to her by her mother, but it was graceful and fit the music. Had she been watching the Elven maiden who was playing the music and dancing herself, Rie probably would not have danced, because Elwen's steps were much more beautiful, as was fitting for one of the Eldar. But for herself, Rie was dancing well and joyfully, and her joy overshadowed her relative lack of skill. Her face was flushed with excitement, and though she danced in the shadows so as not to distract attention from the musician she was glowing with joy. "A night for music, and for joy!" Rie said aloud, and laughed.

[Schmendrick]

Durmán - that was the stranger's name- closed his eyes, when the music began again.

Different, more joyful this time, it swept away the very last traces of the dark thoughts from his mind.

He started humming quietly and felt a smile spread over his face.

"It's like magic", he thought. "There's nothing that can heal you like the music of the Elves."

[beckers]

The stranger smiled,and was lost deep in thought. The music swept him off to a land he had left long ago. A land of rich green, grassy hills and cool, clear streams.

The music stopped and shaken from his reverie, the stranger looked up. He rose from his seat and acquired a room for the night. He retired upstairs to the room, while the music began again and the merryment went on below.

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

Banakil - nice post! I have broken it into the required two paragrphs per Shire writing rules. Please see the Red Book of Westmarch - the first topic in the Shire -- Thanks, Pio

[ December 29, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[beckers]

A fair-haired, tall man with deep brown eyes arose from his table where a pint of ale and a block of cheese sat.

"Greetings, Ithilelen. My name is Thorondor. I would gladly give you direction, but to where?"

Ithilelen sighed. "Ah, but the answer to that I do not know. There is a place, a location undefined, that I must visit. All I know is that I must go to a rich green hill with a hand of darkness atop it."

Thorondor hesitated, then began to speak again. "There is one place that may be, but I dare not speak its name aloud." He leaned forward and spoke quietly in her ear, "There is one place-the Slopes of Deep. Atop a rich green hill, there is a large black stone in the shape of a clutching hand. It is said to have been formed by...a being of pure evil."

Ithilelen widened her eyes, and said firmly "That is my destination."

Thorondor sighed, and replied "Then that is where I will take you."

[ December 29, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Before the young elf could make her way to her room, Pio had called her back to the table where she sat with the fair haired wanderer. 'Before you claim your room, I would know your name.' She raised her eyebrows at the girl who stood before her, waiting. 'Or at least, some name, by which I might introduce you to my table companion.'

She nodded toward the man seated across from her, noting his discomfort as she drew more attention to him. Pio stood, frowning slightly, and drew the young elf by a motion of her hand into the vacant chair.

'I know not his name, either, or I would introduce you, one to the other. Perhaps you two can work that out between you - I shall leave this flask and cups to lift your spirits and loosen your tongues.'

She smiled at both of them, and withdrew, taking Elanor by the hand. 'I see you are awake yet, and ready for work!' she laughed, pulling her toward the center of the room where some brave patrons were dancing to the Elven tunes. 'But first, let us enjoy the music while we can, and join the dance . . .'

[cheeto]

Belle finished her tea and was soon dancing. She saw into the kitchen where Biffo was finishing a sink of pots and pans.

"You know," she said, sitting next to a nearby elf, "that's my cousin in there on my mother's side...or is it my father's?Nevermind, he's always doing dishes when he visits."

She glanced over at Pio. "You should check the dishes - he couldn't do them right if he wanted to. Mother always makes me wash behind him."

She looked back towards the elf and lowered her voice. "He always does them because he always gets in trouble. You should hear about the last time he had to do dishes - I didn't even need to wash after him! Why,he was so frightened,he did them three times until they were right!...I'm sorry miss, what did you say your name was? I'm Belle!"

Cheeto - please check your PM's

[ December 29, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Merri]

"I see you are awake yet, and ready for work!" Miss Pio laughed, pulling Elanor toward the center of the room where some brave patrons were dancing to the Elven tunes. "But first, let us enjoy the music while we can, and join the dance . . ."

"Oh," Elanor began, flustered. "But I'm afraid I don't know how to dance very well . . . books don't often make good dancing partners. I could add in a song or two of my own, perhaps, but after the wonderful singing we've had, I don't think anybody would want to hear a little hobbit's songs."

As Elanor spoke, she took a couple of steps away from the dacers. Even though she had been to plenty of birthday parties in the Shire and there had been no lack of dancing there, she was still terrified of the practice, and chose to avoid it as much as possible. Instead, she was always on hand to provide a song or a story to any willing listeners.

[ December 29, 2002: Message edited by: Merri ]

[piosenniel]

‘As you wish!’ cried Pio, merrily, as she let go the Hobbit’s hand. ‘But I will hold you to your promised songs once the music is done and our feet are tired.’ Her eyes sparkled with an impish light. ‘Best you practice them, and quickly. For I shall surely call on you.’

She ran to the center of the room, and grabbed the hands of Elwyn and Durman as she entered the dancers. ‘Springle-ring!’ she shouted to Jatyn, Rie, and Cami, motioning them into the circle she had formed.

‘A lively beat, if you will, musician. And we shall do a Shire dance for you!’ Pio clapped her hands in beat to the music, then pushed Cami forward, to the center f the Ring. ‘Show them how it’s done!’ she laughed, watching her friend leap lightly in the energetic dance.

Durman, a surprised look on his face, was next hauled into the center as Cami took her place in the swaying Ring. The dancers stamped their feet and clapped loudly, encouraging him to dance for them.

[Schmendrick]

It all had happened so quick, Durmán could hardly understand what was going on. Before he knew, he was in the centre of the ring, everyone's eyes fixed on him.

He felt the blood rush on his cheeks and his heart pounding. This was certainly not what he had wanted, but there was no way he could escape now.

He took a few hesitating steps, trying to remember the dances he had seen when he had stayed with the Elves, but felt very self-conscious and ridicule.

Soon he excused himself and rushed out of the circle and to the counter. His cheeks were burning when he ordered an ale.

He wasn't angry at anyone else, though. How could they know he had never danced in his life!

[ December 29, 2002: Message edited by: Schmendrick ]

[Merri]

As Elanor watched the dancing, she began to wish that she wasn't so scared of it.

She sat down at a nearby table, watching, trying to build up her courage. At last she threw down her apron and went up to Tom, the hobbit lad she had been talking to earlier that night.

"You've been working much too hard for a hobbit," She said, startling him. "You're dancing with me."

"But I thought you were scared of dancing, isn't that what you told Miss Pio?" Tom reminded her.

"I never said any such thing," Elanor protested.

"I can't, I've got too much work to do." He shook his head, backing away from her.

"There's no such thing as work now, silly. Come on!" She dragged him out to the dancers and the two hobbits began a jaunty little Shire jig that was completely out of rythm with the music. But that was no matter, she had finally overcome her silly fear and was having the time of her life. The work could wait. For now, there was only fun and her new friend, Tom.

[Nurumaiel]

Robin glanced over to the table where Lindelot was sitting and saw the elf was watching the dancers and smiling softly, yet rather sadly, as if she were thinking how she would never again see what she was seeing now, or as if some terrible misfortune would fall upon the merry hobbits.

She's leaving, thought Robin. She's leaving just like the rest of the elves are. She's not coming back, either.

Sighing, she turned to Dinodas, and saw that he was looking at her with a funny expression on his face. She just stared at him as he stood up and put out his hand. Then it hit her what he was trying to do.

"Oh... no..." she said, shaking her head, which made her brown curls bounce from one cheek to the other. "I will not, Dinodas Green."

"Yes you will, Robin Brandybuck," replied Dinodas, and snatching her hand he dragged her to the other dancers. Robin gave an audible sigh, but her eyes were smiling. When was the last time she had danced? Maybe it would be fun.

[Carlas]

The elf frowned as she was called back by the innkeeper. She walked over to the table not wishing to speak, though it seemed that was what the other had in mind.

She looked at the man sitting at the table and how he seemed to tense when the other mentioned him.

The innkeeper motioned for her to sit in one of the chairs at the table. Not wanting to arouse anyone elses attention she sat and watched the man across from her.

As the lady left, the elf sat forword in her chair and asked." I am called Harenthiel, what do you want of me?" She looked at the man, and waited for his response.

[ December 30, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Rai]

Her song finished, Jatyn sat down, feeling pleased with herself. It had obviously effected some people, for the busy inn had seemed to quieten when she'd been singing.

Jatyn walked up to the innkeeper. "Excuse me, sir, but would you be so kind as to rent me a room for the night?" She hastily reached into her pack and pulled out some coins.

Please remember paragraph breaks -Cami

[ December 30, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Orual]

Rie laughed as Pio called her into the circle. A Shire dance, what fun! She loved to dance, and to learn new dances, and wasn't afraid of doing it on the spot in front of everyone--she always had in the past, often at her brothers' insistance. She felt like a child at her father's house again, with Talormé and Alanai (her elder brothers) pushing her into folk dances--always into the solo position, and always in front of the boy she fancied.

She watched Cami as she entered the center of the circle and began a quick, lively dance. Rie laughed and clapped her hands to the beat, carefully watching the innkeeper's feet to learn the steps. Eventually she shook her head and gave it up--she'd learn as she went, or trip trying!

To Rie's utter shock, the next person hauled into the middle of the ring was the strange Ranger whom she had approached. She watched as he tried a few halting steps, and then left. "To be sure, he didn't grow up with my brothers," she thought with a smile, and turned her thoughts back to the dance, paying no more heed to him.

[doug*platypus]

It was all a bit of a blur for poor Mr. Proudfoot. One moment he had been smoking at a table with the fair-voiced stranger, next thing he knew he was being bustled off into the kitchen. Although not quite understanding what was going on, the pipeweed had put Biffo in a good mood, and he went along with the Hobbit-girl's scheme.

"Idle hands do the devil's work, after all, Miss - we don't mind giving you a hand, do we Mister?"

Biffo rolled up his sleeves and started on a large pile nearest the door. After a few moments he could make out Belle Proudfoot's quick chattery voice from the rest of the babble. He was reminded of the last family supper at his Aunt Petunia's, washing crocks for hours on end with her peering over his shoulder and prodding him with her cane. That was an occasion best forgotten quickly!

Biffo did not talk to the man next to him, preferring to get on with the task at hand. Oblivious for the time being to the man's fair voice, he murmured snatches of a few of his own favourite songs, the ones that had helped him to get through the long hours tobacco-harvesting the last few weeks.

"I'd while away the hours,
Conversing with the flowers,
da dee dee de dee dum..."

It was not long before Biffo noticed the stranger next to him beginning to slump his shoulders. Shortly afterwards the man left, obviously considering his job done. 'Hmmph - hard day's work never hurt noone,' thought Biffo. 'Now where is that Cami girl, anyway? Or that innkeeper lass? Knew I'd get into trouble for thinking she were a Dwarf!"

[ December 30, 2002: Message edited by: doug*platypus ]

[piosenniel]

. . . Or that innkeeper lass? Knew I'd get into trouble for thinking she were a Dwarf!"

Pio smiled when she heard this bit of Biffo's conversation with himself. She swung the door to the kitchen open, and walked in quietly, keeping her eye on the Hobbit who stood at the stone sink on a low, red stool.

He did not hear her approach, as he plied his dish rag with great vigor over the platter in his hand. Up to his elbows in the soapy water, he paused occasionally to talk to the plates and cutlery, not minding that they did not answer him in kind.

'A nice job you've done here.' she said , coming up behind him. 'Despite what your cousin Belle has warned me of.' Biffo, startled by a voice other than his own, nearly dropped the platter he had just finished scrubbing.

Pio handed him a towel to dry his hands, and poured a pint for him. 'Thirsty - dish duty, or so I've always found it.' She pushed him gently out the door to the common room, saying there was a place for him in the Springle Ring if he wished to dance.

The door swung shut behind him, and she turned to the remainder of the dishes and hurried through them. 'Best not let Belle see the quality of this work!' she said to herself.

Once done, she put on a dry apron and went out to see to the needs of the patrons.

[Dark Shadow]

“I wanted no more than to know of your name,” he replied, quiet as always. He drank of the cup Pio had left, before continuing,

“You are hiding, and I will not press you to know what or whom you hide from for that is not my way, but might I know where it is you travel from? I do not recognise you, although I may know those you know or knew."

Sitting forward from the shadows that had been cast upon his hooded face he looked at her with a piercing gaze. His face remained expressionless.

“You remind me of someone although I do not recognise yourself. I will question you no further and you are not bound to answer anything you do not wish, but I will advise you; if you want to continue to go unnoticed, don’t use your weapons to ward others off.”

With that he returned to the shadows, watching and awaiting any answers she might wish to give.

[ December 30, 2002: Message edited by: Dark Shadow ]

[Carlas]

Harenthiel watched the man as he sat back in the shadows. He did not stop watching her, his gaze, piercing and hard.

"I come from Rivendell to visit friends of mine here in the Shire. My father is an elven warrior that travels all through Middle-Earth, his name is Dûnmenel."

She stared at the hooded face in front of her." That is all I will say, but do I not have the right to know your name?"

[ December 30, 2002: Message edited by: Carlas ]

[ December 30, 2002: Message edited by: Carlas ]

[Barodir]

As the man was about to say his name, another man, tall and muscular, dark-brown hair and beard with blue-grey eyes, carrying a sheild on his back and a sword by his belt entered the pub. He looked around, as if looking for someone. He looked towards the man and shouted "You!". He immediatly un-sheathed his blade and exclaimed "You are the one I am hunting, for high treason against Gondor!" He started to run towards the man, but Harenthiel stopped him. "Who are you and what do you want with this man?"

"I am Barodir, son of Barodel, and I am a guard of Gondor! This man has stolen many items and treasures of the White City, and I was commanded to capture him."

"Barodir!" the hooded man said. "I am not the one you are searching for. But, if he truly is in this area, he will come here."
To this, Harenthiel added "Stay and drink and sing with the rest of us!"
Barodir answered "No, I am not one to sing. All I require is some Ale and pipe-weed, then I shall be content by myself. Thank you anyway.

"And you" he said, pointing to the man again,"if you are lying, I will slit your throat as you slumber." He then put his blade away, went to the bar, got what he needed, and found a seat near the fireplace.

"What was that all about?" Harenthiel asked. The man replied "Nothing. Now where were we?..."

[ December 30, 2002: Message edited by: Barodir ]

[ December 31, 2002: Message edited by: Barodir ]

[piosenniel]

Pio watched the interchange between the newcomer and the fair haired wanderer closely. She had seen him draw his sword and speak roughly to both the man and the young Elf, Harenthiel.

The fire of the newcomers zeal abated and her gaze followed him as he walked across the room and seated himself at a table after demanding a drink from Merri at the bar.

Seeing that he had nearly finsished the one drink, she drew another pint and approached his table, her eyes glinting coldly in the warm light of the fireplace. Carefully she placed the drink before him.

As he reached for it, the knife beneath her sleeve flashed out into her hand and she skewered his sleeve to the table. 'Should you have any further such business in the Inn, sirrah,' she hissed at him quietly, 'you will consult me first. Keep your weapons sheathed while in here. I will not have the safety of my customers jeopardized by your rash actions. Do I make myself clear, man of Gondor?'

Pio withdrew her blade, placing it carefully in the sheath strapped to her forearm. Wiping a small puddle of ale from the table top that had spilled during this brief encounter, she then turned smiling, back to the other patrons in the room.

'Nothing to see here.' she said, as she walked through the gathered crowd. She took her place behind the bar, calling out to the musicians and singers to please go on . . .

[ December 30, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Derakis]

Derakis looks to the people he has been speaking with. "It has been a most educating experince speaking wiht you. If you are in need of any help, don't hesitate to find me."

He over to the door. Opening it, he walks out into the cool air of the outdoors. Taking a deep breath, he walks onto the beaten Road...

[Rai]

Getting ignored by the dancing innkeeper, Jatyn sniffed her disapproval and sat down at one of the tables, this one populated by a young Elf and a light-haired man.
"Do they always do that to you?" she asked. "Ignore you like that?"

-Jatyn Coolheart-

~*The winds of evil flag against me, yet I am immovable.*~

[piosenniel]

Pio smacked herself in the head when she saw Jatyn sit down at the table with the Elf and man. 'Those shire dances are dangerous. Drive all the thoughts right from your head.'

She called Elanor to her and told her where to find fresh linen for the bed. Sending the Hobbit up the stairs to prepare the room, she approached the table where Jatyn sat. 'Your pardon, if you will. I have just sent someone to make up your room - number seven, up the stairs and down the hall on your left.'

She looked closely at Jatyn. 'I do like to see payment in advance if you please. It will be five coppers a night, or a silver penny, if you wish breakfast included."

[Nurumaiel]

"I'm exhausted," said Robin, moving back towards the table. "I haven't danced in a long while, so I'm not used to it."

"Well," said Dinodas, as he walked towards the counter to get an ale, "now would be a good time to get used to it once again."

Robin ignored him and went over to where Lindelot was sitting. She sat down next to the elf and gave a quiet, "Hello."

"Suilad, tithen perian iell," Lindelot replied in her own tongue.

"I don't know much elvish," said Robin. "But I think I know enough to say that you said, 'Greetings, little hobbit maid.'"

"That is what I did say," said Lindelot, nodding. "Days are changing, with young hobbit maids speaking the tongue of the elves."

"My friend Nurumaiel who is an elf taught me," replied Robin. "At least, she taught me a little bit. She's not too good at speaking elvish herself."

"Indeed?" said Lindelot, trying to hide a smile. "Where is this Nurumaiel?"

"He's over there," said Robin, pointing at Nurumaiel. "She's sitting next to the man from Rohan. He's called Firramer. Why don't you go over and speak with them?"

Lindelot gave a nod and stood up, moving over to Nurumaiel. When she reached the elf she touched her on the shoulder and said, "Suilad, gwanur."

Nurumaiel turned and a smile appeared on her face. "Greetings," she said. "Would you like to sit down?"

"Hannad (thank you)," Lindelot said. After she had sat she asked, "Man togle i Trann (what brings you to the Shire)?"

"Mellonen, i perian iell orennas... im tolan cenpain perianen mellyn (My friend, the hobbit girl over there... I came to see all my hobbit friends)."

Lindelot nodded. "Sen dor periannath lend sad (This land of the hobbits is a sweet place)."

"Ar hain i cuiasi (And so are they who live here)," Nurumaiel agreed.

Lindelot smiled to herself. Perhaps she could speak with an Elf who dwelt on Middle-earth once more before she left forever, to Valinor.

[Dark Shadow]

He sat feeling worried and confused. Remaining hidden by his cloak and hood was obviously causing much confusion. Looking back to Harenthiel he said quietly, but awkwardly and unsurely,

"I am Erdaminéon, an Elf, although it seems that many have not yet realised that, as they come rushing at me with unfounded accusations."

With this he turned to glare at the guard who had accused him, before once again removing his hood, to reveal the fair hair and clear eyes he had been hiding.

"I suppose I would be best not to hide myself anymore," he said this without taking his eyes off Barodir, "for it seems that Men will still rush you with empty accusations. Maybe he should learn to check he has the right thief before going for their throat."

He looked back to the Elf who sat at his table and said,

"Well now we know each other, and I know of your business," at this he looked slightly suspicious of her, but the look passed, "maybe you should continue to where you were going before I interrupted you."

He then sat back again, regarding Barodir with a look of disgust.

[ December 30, 2002: Message edited by: Dark Shadow ]

[Carlas]

Harenthiel stood up silently from the table and looked into the elf's eyes.

"Well then Erdaminéon, be careful, I do not trust that man. It was nice to meet you, namarie."She smiled and walked towards the stairs.

Looking back she saw the innkeeper take out her knife and threaten Barodir. She held back her laughter at the look on his face and climbed up the stairs.

[ December 30, 2002: Message edited by: Carlas ]

[Barodir]

After Pio came over and threatened him, Barodir decided to watch his manners.

Still, he just couldn't shake the thought of Erdamineon being the robber. He waited for Pio and Harenthiel to leave, and then approached Erdamineon more casually.
"So, if you are not my robber, then who are you?" he asked.

The Elf replied "I am Erdamineon, son of..."

"Have you ever been to Gondor?" Barodir interupted

"I have, but on official business." Erdamineon answered harshly, tired of the guards accusations and questioning.

"Hmph!" Barodir sneered. "Tell me, what part of Gondor were you in."

"Minas Tirith, but it was long ago." the Elf replied.

"Well," Barodir said as he brought out a journal, "we shall see. This log book holds all records of the events of the day the treasures were stolen, and," pointing to a certain point on a page, "it says an Elf with fair looking hair was seen with a large bag over his horses back, and" taking a second to look at Erdamineon, "you match the description!"

"I assure, on that date, I was nowhere near Minas Tirith" Erdamineon replied. "But, you'll notice that the Elf in the book is said to have shady eyes, and mine are clear, as you can tell."

Barodir, hearing he had made a mistake, searched the page, saw the error he made and went red. "Err...sorry...you must forgive me, I'm quick to judge and I forget things frequently....err, I guess you're innocent."

"You are forgiven. We all make mistakes every once in a while." Erdamineon said. "Next time, please think before you act." To this, Barodir went red even more.

"However, I do know one Elf that matches that description." Erdamineon said. "He's actually in this area, and I could take you to...."

Just then, the door swung open, and there was the Elf that Barodir was searching for, seemingly ready to kill...

please see my private message - Cami

[ December 30, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[ December 31, 2002: Message edited by: Barodir ]