The Green Dragon - Part 2

[Everdawn]

Umbria had sat for hours writing on her parchment, Her liege had long since retired to rest and she sat alone at one of hte tables. She stopped and looked around at all the newcomers. "one would think the south did not exist anymore" she said to herself. He sharp gray eyes scanning the room.

She heard the elf Astarielle. "you have kin, in Lothlorien. I am of Lothlorien, perhaps I may know them?"

She was interrupted when two full grown men dressed in strange clothes of black burst into the inn, carriying with them in their arms, Snowdrop the hobbit, unconscious and bleeding from the side.

"who is the innkeeper here!" he yelled
The second one went to a chair and put Snowdrop down on the chair. "i need some bandages, im a doctor" he said

Umbria got up immediatly and went to Snowdrop's side "what happened to her?"
"Bandits, we think, we just found her like this with her pony and cart... there was gold missing from a pouch that lay strewn on the road."

Umbria looked him in the eye, "you are rangers."

"yes lady, we are, and my nmae is-"
"Aleamas, and your companion is Dolenmar: I know you from somewhere"


He looked at her in surprise "right now, my priority is helping this young halfling."

[Nurumaiel]

Don stood quietly for a moment, gazing at the sky. It was her choice, Rie had said. A frown came to the girl's face. She had always disliked having to be the one to choose, but now, when it would decide her future, she was almost afraid. A conversation she had had with Rie played through her mind.

Those flowers are more beautiful than these wild ones.

No, they're not. Even those these flowers are wild they can still be beautiful. You're wild.

And ugly.

That little flower is beautiful, and so are you.

A soft smile came to Don's face, and she took Rie's hand. There was a little silence, and then Don looked up at her. "I've made my decision," she said. "After my parents died, and my family was split up, I never had any friend. Until I met you. You're the best friend I've had since then, Rie, and I've decided I should be grateful for that. I'm going to stay."

[Eruantalon]

The new arrival to the table was ready for a story. But wanted to hear one first.

"So you where about to tell a tale?"They asked him.

"Yes it is a long and good story. Would you like to hear it."The stranger nodded in agrement.

The story of korilen

I have a story for every one. But be shure it is vary sad in its beggining.

Well my friends many years ago when there was still a heir to the throne in Gondor. There was a guard by the name of Karis. One day he met a fair lady by the name of Niril. She was no common woman. She was quick witted and cunning. Her fother was a ranger as where all of her brothers and famly. They fell in love and where married. They had three sons. The eldest they named Korilen.


Many years passed untill Korilen was soon to become a man. He was a joyus boy who loved Arda deeply. Often he would be found on the roof top of his house staring at the stars. Often he would dream queer things and tell his fother and mother about what he had seen. One night he woke crying when his mother came to him.

She asked him what had troubeled him in his sleep. He told her of the white city and its waters that sang. The trees that whent up like mountains. The beauty of an endless spring. The halls of a great and beautifull place. Covered with pearls. The most beautifull ships that where burned on shores. How ugly things hated all the beauty. How they destroyed it and it made him cry. He only saw them before in beauty not ruin. But now they where gone. He hoped that one day he would go to see them. Now he knew that he never could. So when he awoke it made him weep.

His mother comforted him and made him honey and warm milk to get back to bed. But she knew he had seen things before his time.

So ever since that day he was weighted by the burden. Of the memory of thing that where long gone in days of old.

He grew older now. His time to become a guard of Gondor was at hand. His fother over saw his training. He was swift of foot. Keen of aim. As strong as his fother hoped he would be. So he grew to his full hight. He was a high guard of Gondor. He saw the day come when the stewarts of Gondor took to governing his home. He was still vary young though. He was not yet an old man,but he was into his man hood for ten years then.

One day he beheld a sight that took him back. Windamere fairest of all he had seen. Her fother was a ships captian for Gondor.

Windamere was fair skined tall and strong. Her hair was as gold as weat on the harvest. Her eyes deepest blue. Her face was striking and fair. She stired with the beauty of all of Arda. So that in her face was light to be seen.

When she first met Korilen she was struck by his mannors and friendship. He was as gentle and kind as any man she had ever known. But she noticed the pain of some unknown weight on him. So that time he met her he sang for her. He had been taught by his mother all the songs that where in Gondor apon his lute. He had enchaned her with his beautifull songs that night. Ever afer she would rember that night. For that was the moment that she had fallen under his spell.

A few seasons had gone by. The summer came now. He and Windamer where to be married. One day she was off to sea with her brothers. The moring was fair and calm. But as noon time came a storm was at hand. The seas tossed and rumbled under the planks of the boat. They where trying to make it to shore before it was too late. As they came towards shore the wind and water raised up apon them. Then there ship was thrased onto the shore. All of the people on that boat had fallen. None where lift all whrere gone.


Then the storm lifted shortly after. The seas calmed and the wind came to a gentle wisper. Then after hours of search her fother found her. They where not supposed to go so far out. There journy had taken too long. The storm came in when he saw them making there way to shore.

He weeped deeply there where the reckage lay. So he never sailed agian. For he looked with anger apon the sea ever after.

News came to Korilen of his love and her voyage. She was gone forever. Never agian would he see his fairest love. All was lost there was nothing left for him now. He took to traveling and wandering. Seasons came and gone, winter, spring, fall, and summer. But all was as coldest winter to him. Grey and warmthless life was for him.

He sat by the great river Anduin one day. Playing apon his lute and singing of his pains. The beauty he had seen and lost. The love that he had seen and lost. For days out of his count he sang. There was no day or night. Only his songs where left. He grew weary and hungered for the loss of his life. But he was not dying. He was left singing with out realease. He would fall into sleep then awake. Night had turned to day or day had turned to night. He was in shear torture.

Finaly he cried out to the river."Why do I keep living when all I seek is death? Why do I have the memory of things that are gone? What would I do if I cannot find death? Would I be left here till all time has gone? Is it not enough that I am mortal and doomed to die? Must also my burden be made higher?"


Then a great voice of them deep arose. "You have sung second born and I have listened. Now you will hear me."

The voice boomed so loud his ears ached. It was all around but had no source. It was like water but thrashed like a storm.

"You have been burdened by many thing Korilen. But I have not gone blind to what pains you. So I will give you a gift to ease your burden. Your life is shorter than the Oak or the river running. But know me for I am greater than all of these."

He knew now it was he who is master of the sea. He humbled himself and kneeled down now.

"I have not let you die! You will live on. You have many deed that need your work in. For that alone you should live. You will do the will of Eru. Now I give you your new name that all will know you by. Eruantalon do the good that is needed. You are spared for this reason. Now seek out those who would lose what you hold dear. Do not let darkness mar what you love."

Now new strength was in him as one who has seen the Valar.

"There are gifts you should be given. Osse would help you if you go to the great sea. Now look apon me and know all of the great works are not gone. Know no fear or pain for I have shown you all is never lost."


With that Ulmo was gone. He had given Eruanalon great strength. There was tasks for him to do. He would also meet the servent of Ulmo. He would give him what he needed.


So now he journed to the sea. His body had never known such strength. He was now ready for all to come in this life. He was to help all that had needed him. He would not be alone in life. All was saved but his tasked where to be many.

There apon the shores he sang again. the song had reached Osse. There he stood on the shores. With him was another of his kind. So they said to him.

"I am the servent of Ulmo. This is the servent of Lorien. We where bid to give you your gift. Your suffering was heard by Manwe. He was moved by your songs as was Ulmo and orthers. We where given this gift that was to ease your burden. It will give you what is needed. For no man has made song of such pain as yours. Take now and help who need you."

Then he gave to me the instrument that I have now. My life is ever with it. One day I shall sing apon the shores. Then they will come for my instrument. Then I will find a place to lay ever after. No songs will I sing or battels will I see. I will have the rest only the mortal know.

For with this instrument I have known the friendship of all of the living things of Arda. In me there is memory of long forgotten things. I am old but do not seem it. I am young but weary. Still I find happyness in those I have helped and will help. All of the fair things left in Arda I have seen. But now is the fading time. So my time here grows shorter.


That is the story of my beggining my friends. The end is only known when it comes. The gifts I was given to help in battel must go back to the people that gave them. My instrument will go back where it came from. Then I will know rest.

With the end of his story Bali put his hand on Erulons shoulder."That my friends is the story of Korlin. My friend and companion. Can we get some ale? Storys make me thirsty!"

With a smile and gripping Balins hand back he said."Yes storys make me thirsty to old friend! I shall have one to."

[ January 25, 2003: Message edited by: Eruantalon ]

[ January 25, 2003: Message edited by: Eruantalon ]

[Orual]

The moments that passed after Rie's last statement seemed like eternity. The young woman's green eyes hardly left Don's brown ones. She's going to choose now, Rie thought, she's going to leave me. Just like I left my family. If I scorned my own loved ones so much, how can I expect her to stay? How can I expect that?

Finally, Don spoke.

I'm going to stay.

Rie felt light-headed, but in a way that made it seem like a great burden had been lifted from her. She smiled, a full but teary smile. "Come on," she said softly, standing up, "let's walk a little, shall we? Talk some. We can talk about what you're going to do."

As they walked, in silence for a while, Rie began to sing, very, very softly.

Zâira nênud
adûn izindi batân tâidô ayadda:
îdô kâtha batîna lôkhî
êphalak îdôn Yôzâyan
êphal êphalak îdôn hi-Akallabêth.

[Maegaladiel]

--Pio and everyone else: Sorry about my last (and first) post, I totally forgot about the
whole double-spacing thing. Thanks for putting up with me!-- MAE

Nahai seemed pleased with the reaction to her offer. Smiling politely, she pulled up a chair next to the one who called himself...what was it?...Bali? Most embarrassingly, name
recognition was never her strong point.

“And what do you call yourself, lass?” asked one of the men at the table.

“I am Nahai, daughter of Silhinui. I come from the Carrock, near Mirkwood. In search of
adventure.” The gent’s eyes widened at this response.

“The Carrock? Surely this cannot be, for if it was, you would be--”

“A skin-changer? Yes, this is true.” the woman interrupted. This resulted in several raised eyebrows, and one or two people took an uneasy step backwards. The possibility of
offending a woman who could probably become a carnivorous beast was not overly
appealing to most. Nahai couldn’t blame them.

A passing elf, overhearing the remark, temporarily postponed his quest for ale to
investigate this interesting prospect.

“A shape-shifter, milady? Rarely are such wildflowers found in a garden like this,” he said.
The fair elf pulled up a chair, much to the disappointment of a nearby dwarf. Ignoring him, the elf continued.

“And what tales would you bring to our good table, milady?” He gave a dazzling smile,
one that Nahai gladly returned. This was too much for the dwarf.

“OUR table?!” He grumbled, “I don’t remember inviting you, Master Elf!” Those
tree-hugging, foolish, show-off elves made his blood boil. A man chuckled and patted his
shoulder.

“Be calm, friend,” he said. “All are welcome in the Green Dragon Inn.” He turned back to
Nahai. “Please, tell us your tale.”

The lady Shifter smiled and began. She wove a brilliant tapestry with her words, telling the folklore of her people. Her listeners were drawn in as the deeds and exploits of dark
wizards, brave shape-changers, dragons, gryffins, and magical talking beasts unfolded
before them. Their eyes remained glued upon her, but her own wandered around the
tavern, observing the patrons as they carried on their activities. A wounded, dirtied elf sat in a corner. Several maids and hobbit-lasses were locked in conversation in another. And
every now and then, she almost thought she saw the characteristic orange/red of a fox’s
tail in the kitchen. She longed to hear their stories, to learn of their adventures. Perhaps she would some day.

Nahai’s story ended. For a moment, her audience was silent. Her eyes lowered, suddenly embarrased. Then, as though released from a spell, they began to applaud. Now her eyes
lowered again, not from shame, but from delight and modesty.

“Another!” roared one of her new fans. Nahai laughed quietly.

“In a moment,” she said. “What shall it be about next?” The dwarf jumped at the
opportunity.

“Something less happy.” he grunted. “All I’ve heard all day was bright and sickeningly sweet love tales from that babbling fool over there.” He jabbed a stubby thumb over his shoulder at a preposterous looking minstrel in a heavilly-plumed hat, strumming some stringed
instrument. Nahai laughed again; a sound like a babbling brook in springtime.

“When I return,” she said, “I shall tell you the tale of a warrior named Kai. That should
suit you better. But first, I must have a drink. My throat is parced from my yarn-weaving.” The gentlemen laughed.

She walked to the bar and ordered an ale. As she sipped, she saw the wounded elf slump
in his seat, a pained expression on his face. She set down her mug quickly and went to his aid.

“Good sir,” she asked, concern marked on her brow, “Are you well?”

[Rosemary Took]

Rosemary re-entered the inn feeling much better. The fresh air does a lot for one who feels tired. There were a couple new patrons but it seemed as though nothing exceptional had happened. Looking around she saw a little figure in the corner, a hobbit on her own. Feeling very curious she walked over and introduced herself, 'Hello there, I'm Rosemary Took.'

The hobbit seemed to be a Took like herself though Rosemary couldn't put her finger on where she might have come from. She ordered a drink and waited for a reply.

[Dark Shadow]

“I see we suffer together then,”

He said, softly, so as not to bring more pain to Pio’s head as was necessary. He watched as she searched for a powder to dampen the pain. He winced slightly as he readjusted his position on the couch. She sat opposite him, watching him pick at the food.

“Not meaning any disrespect to your excellent food,” he said suddenly, “but I really can not eat at this time.”

He closed his eyes, trying to recall all events that had occurred since his departure. Then he fixed Pio with a clear gaze, and took a deep breath.

“You ask much of events that should take long to speak of. I suppose by your question of what happened to me you are referring to this,”

Here, he paused, gesturing to the wound on his inside arm, just above the elbow.

“I was clumsy. Fighting alone is a dangerous business. Fighting alone against large numbers is even more so. I avoid it. I do not seek glory, nor do I wish for recognition. By nature I would prefer to shoot down an enemy and remain hidden. But, as I said, I was clumsy.”

He sighed, and then looked around again. Not seeing anything, he continued his story.

“I was ambushed by Orcs. The wild is a treacherous place to wander and I was tired. I had ridden far and was in search of somewhere to rest myself, and my steed. And then they were upon me. I know not how it happened, for I should have heard them long before they sensed me. I fought, then ran.”

He looked away, bitterly. The pain of having to turn and run was setting in again.

“What I was doing there anyway,” he began, “what I was doing. It doesn’t matter. It is not of importance, and I feel not like speaking of it.”

He looked as though there was more to say on the subject, but he turned away again, letting the words fade from his lips in the hope that they could also fade from his memory. In the warmth and safety of the inn it was hard to believe that any of it was true. It was all a far off dream, like those he had been having of late.

“And you ask why I returned to your inn.” He paused, deep in thought. “I suppose it seemed a safe place to turn. There are many who walk these lands that I should not wish to encounter; not as I am at any rate. The Shire used to strike me as a retreat from the rush of life, but things are not so peaceful anymore. I supposed it is those like me, those who come in need of healing, who disturb your peace more than anything. And for that I apologise.”

He looked around again, still searching.

“Might I ask, where is my sword? It is of great value to me, and I should much like to know where it is.”

[Falathion]

"What does it take to get a decent breakfast here in this place?!" Turgon shouted out. He walked quickly over to the bar and hit the calling bell.

"Hello?!" He yelled harshly. No one answered. Turgon grunted and made his way back to the table, suddenly noticing someone was sitting there. An old man clad in robes, and his walkingstaff lay by the table. Turgon grunted once more.

"Yer sitting at me table old man!" He said as he stood, feet firmly wideplanted on the ground and his hands resting on his hips, looking the old man in his eye.

(OOC: Yes... this would be you Jesse)

[Jesse]

*Jesse looks at Turgon and stands up. His tired eyes look at Turgon's eyes. Jesse forces a frown and grabs his staff. He then stands upright. With his old age, his back isn't what it used to be.

"When I came in, no one was sitting in it. However, if it is your table, I will move to another one. My name is Jesse by the way. I must say, I am older than you could possibly imagine, so I would ask that you'd treat me with some respect." Jesse says as he begins walking towards another table. The wizard continues to eye Turgon suspciously until he sits down at an empty table. Jesse then sets his staff down on the floor.

[ January 26, 2003: Message edited by: Jesse ]

[ January 26, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Himaran]

Bali was steaming with anger as the elf continued to sit at his table, now talking to the two ladies sitting there (which made Bali all the madder). Quickly he stood: "Yes, my friend Eruantalon, let us go get ourselves some more ale."

Shooting a dark look at the elf who had invaded his table, and who was obviously enjoying the attention he was getting from the two ladies, Bali (along with Eruantalon)excused themselves from the table, leaving the two ladies sitting there to talk with the elf alone.

Moving over to the counter, Bali ordered an ale for himslef and Eruantalon. "Now that we are alone, we must make plans for our journey," said Bali.

"Let us find a quiet table away from the noise." "I agree," said Eruantalon. "Let us go."

[ January 26, 2003: Message edited by: Himaran ]

[Nurumaiel]

So Rie sang, very softly, a joy in her eyes. She realized that she loved this fiery little girl, and it would hurt her terribly to see her go. Happiness was dancing in her eyes, and the tears of joy still remained. Don was listening, but she did not look at the woman beside her. Instead she bent down and plucked a little flower from the side of the road, and ran her finger gently over the soft petals. Then she burst into tears.

Rie quickly knelt down. "What's wrong, Don?" she asked. "You don't have to stay, Don, you don't have to stay if you don't want to."

"I'm not sad!" said Don fiercely. "Can't you see that, or do you not have any eyes?" A little smile turned up the corners of Rie's lips. This sounded like the Don she had first encountered.

Don took three deep breaths, and stopped crying. She looked at Rie fondly. "I'm sorry, Rie," she said. "I'm sorry I yelled at you like that. But I hate crying when people are watching me."

"Oh, I understand," said Rie. "And it didn't sound like you were yelling. You just sounded like... like Don."

Don smiled, and then laughed through her tears. She looked down at the flower again and then up at Rie, who said quietly, "But will you tell me why you were crying?"

"I was happy," said Don. "When I said I would stay, I was afraid I'd be miserable. I was afraid I wouldn't be happy, but I was foolish to think so. I'm very happy, Rie. So happy that I'm crying. I knew we'd be friends when I first saw you, but I didn't want to admit it. That's why I was so terrible. And that's just my personality. But we're not friends, Rie. We're almost like… family." The last word was whispered, as if Don was afraid it might not be true.

"You're right, Don, we are like family," said Rie. "And I'm glad, because I don't have a family anymore."

Don looked at Rie with large eyes, full of a wisdom that a child of her age should not have. "You do have a family, Rie. Your family is still waiting for you, I think. I have a family. I have my brothers; I have my sisters… I even have my aunts and uncles… though I don't like them," she added quickly.

Rie laughed a little, then became solemn once more. "You're right, Don. I do have a family. But I can't go back to them now."

"Why can't you, Rie?" the girl asked, all the wisdom leaving her face and childish curiosity taking its place. "Why can't you go back? And why did you leave?"

[Eruwen]

Rave woke up early that morning and caught the sunrise out her window. It was truly as great as she had immagined it. She walked down to the inn where many people had already gathered.

As she approached the bar, she ordered a cup of tea, then sat down at a small table after it was delivered. Suddenly, Laurie's words from the previous night came into mind.

"Well, I've just remembered the Rangers, they seem to know most of what goes on here in the North. Perhaps they will know something about your family..."

A quick ray of hope appeared in Rave's eyes. As she looked around the room at the various types of people, she decided to recover her head with her hood. Something was not right. She felt a wry presence in the air that made her soul quiver tremendously.

[Orual]

Rie didn't answer immediately, but began to hum again, the same song as before. It was a very sad song, though Rie could make it reflect her own mood. When she had first sung it in front of Don, it sounded almost happy, at the least resigned in a contented fashion, "this is how things are"--now, it sounded lonely and a little nostalgic. In truth, in its intent, it was a song of longing.

Rie looked at Don. "Why did I leave?" she echoed. Don nodded. "Well, I left because I wasn't thinking, above all else. At the time I told myself that I left to find a new life. See, I wanted--want--to fight, like my brothers and father, all Rangers or Rangers-in-training. But they wouldn't allow it, and so I ran away. I've regretted it since, though I don't think I want to go back. I've seen too much of the world to go back to my mother's forge, I guess, and leave it all behind me. No, I've already agreed, like it or not, to have my share of adventures.

"Now, as to why I can't go back." Here she sighed. "Zâira nênud! The longing is on us! It was on me, and I left my house, a note on my bed saying that I would come back only once I had done something to make my father proud of me. I haven't done anything yet. One thing my father taught me is never to make a promise I can't keep. And I made a promise, Don. I made a promise. I wasn't thinking about it, but nevertheless I did it. So I guess that if I don't find myself an adventure, I'll never be able to go back." She cocked her head back and stared up at the sky for a moment. "But you know what, Don?" she asked, not looking back down. "I think I'm okay with that. I've always wanted to have sisters. Now I can, can't I?"

[Nurumaiel]

"If I were your father I would be very proud of you now," said Don quietly, that strange wisdom returning to her eyes. "You've done more than win great battles and become a hero. Much, much more. I'm almost afraid to say it, Rie, for fear that you'll disagree. But it's true."

"What's true?" Rie asked. "What have I done that would make my father proud of me?"

"It all depends on what kind of father he is," said Don. "If he's the kind of father who only cares about great battles, heroic deeds, glory and honor, then he wouldn't be proud in the least. But if he were the type of father who cares for family, love, and kindness as well as those, then he would be so proud of you, Rie, that he probably wouldn't be able to stand it."

"And if he were?" the woman asked. "What would have made him proud?"

"I was lost and alone in this world. Entirely alone. My parents were dead, my family was being dragged apart, and life was nothing but a miserable void of nothingness. And then I ran away, and I came here, and I met you. Any other person would have ignored me, or even if she spoken with me, would soon leave because of my sharp tongue and stubborn personality. But Rie, you didn't. You were my friend no matter what I said, no matter what I did. And you became my family when I had none. If my father were… were…" Don choked on a sob and a tear trickled down her cheek. She took a hold of herself and started again. "If I had done what you did, if I had loved someone who desperately needed love, if I had become a family for someone who had none, and my father were still alive, he would be very, very proud. And even if that wouldn't make your father proud, Rie, I'm proud of you, and I love you so much."

[Schmendrick]

Durmán hesitated by the door. Just yesterday he had left the Inn, determined. He had already stayed there far too long, what had he been thinking? He had a quest that could not be abandoned. He had to find his brother, Endel.

So he had ridden the whole day under the burning sun, to the north, for it was the only direction he had not yet been to on his travels. Everything had been quiet, he hadn't met anyone, save some scary animals.

He had had time to think. And he had realized that he had been wrong after all. This was not the way to find his brother. Had he not searched for him in vain for years now, riding through the lonely woods, climbing the snowy mountains ? How could he think he could find him like this, with no advice from anyone?

It was time to forget about his pride, forget about the shame cast on his father's name. He had to speak with someone. He had to ask someone if they had seen his brother.

So he decided to return, once again, to the Inn. There were many men, certainly somebody might know something? But he knew what it was that he feared the most. That he would hear something he didn't want to.

So there he was now, by the door, still deep in thoughts. Who would he approach? What would he say? He clenched the silvery necklace that once had belonged to Endel in his hands and could feel his courage returning to him. He had to find him or at least, had to find out what had happened to him.

He opened the door and walked straigth to the counter. A tall, noble man with black hair and bright grey eyes. His clothes were dusty, but in his finger could be seen a ring with a figure of a swan carved to it.

"Could I have some water, please? I've come a long way..."

[piosenniel]

‘I have no idea where your sword is.’ returned Pio. She put her hand upon her belly to quiet the babies, distraught at their mother’s headache. She was nine months along, three more to go. Her focus had narrowed to the return of her husband, Mithadan. And the coming of her old friends to celebrate the birth of the twins. ‘If you are able, good Sir, I suggest you look for it yourself.’

She longed to be away from here. Away from the daily responsibilities of this place. She had never intended to stay this long. She clung to the thought that Mithadan was on his way to her . . .

She was tired, and sad. For she knew that soon after the birth, Cami would be gone. She would lose her forever this time. To her task and to time.

Pio returned her attention to the person before her. She had lived so long and he so little. ‘The Inn is safe. As long as I stand within it.’ She stood, knowing that the daily, ordinary business of this place called to her, and made her way to the door.

‘Rest as you need, Erdaminéon. No ill dreams will find purchase here.’ She paused as she stepped through the door. ‘You cannot run forever. For good or ill, you must face your doom and master it.’

She closed the door behind her, leaving him to the mercy of his own thoughts.

[Manardariel]

The Green Dragon. "At last", Vivi Boldger thought, as she saw the Inn appearing before her.

"Look Tom, Emma! The Inn! We can spend the night there!"
Vivi felt wonderfully relieved. Food, a bed, a roof over their heads-after two days in the wild, it seemed like hobbit heaven. No one answered. Sighing, she turned down to look at the two children trailing along side her looking hungry, cold , dirty and extremly miserable. They were only three years old, both of them.

"Mama?" the girl asked, sounding confused, her big, brown eyes staring at Vivi.

Vivi fouriously blinked back her tears.
"Mama´s not here, Emma, Mama´s..." she ended, what could she say? Mama´s dead? Killed in a huge fire, like Tom´s parents, like your-and my- brothers and sisters, like our whole small community of holes just outside Frogmorton? How could a 3-year-old understand??

They reached the Inn. Vivi hauled Tom up and balanced him on her hip, drawing Emma closer to her side. She pulled back her curly brown hair and entered the Green Dragon.

The fantastic smell of ale, pieweed, food and warmth greeted her. She made her way to bar, greeting astonished looks from many people. A teenage girl with two small children- the poor, stupid hobbits, wondering their heads off. She reached the counter.

"Hello," she greeted the bar-tender. "I would like a room for us three please, for one night. And please bring us... a big jug of milk and some bread." The woman nodded. She didn´t even give her a questioning look, she just nodded.

Suddenly feeling extremly tired, Vivi and the two kids settled down at a table.


Was this ok? I never quite figured out the green dragon, I hope I entered the right way!

[ January 26, 2003: Message edited by: Manardariel ]

[piosenniel]

Pio reached out her arms for the small boy. ‘Oh please, let me hold him for a moment.’ She snuggled the small body against her, while Viv fished through her purse for the room price. ‘Please . . . Viv. Don’t worry about the money. Let me just show you three to a room, and we can solve that problem later.’

The boy was so thin, and so quiet. His large eyes regarded Pio solemnly. She motioned for Viv and Emma to follow her as she showed them upstairs to a room with two beds. ‘Make yourselves comfortable. Then come downstairs and we’ll see about some food.’

Pio sat Tom on the bed, giving him a kiss on the cheek before she left the room. She went back downstairs, then, to see to the needs of the Inn’s guests.

[Everdawn]

Bebberyn had taken Snowdrop home to rest, The two rangers sat talking by the fire. Umbria looked towards Durman, who had now returned. The elf walked towards him. She stared deep into his eyes, the pearcing stare that she was known for.

"you search for your brother, a noble man... Endel" she said calmly "you are so troubled.." she took his hand, the one with the ring of the swan, "Dol Amroth" she said "the city in which i am revered as a person of wonder, advisor to the prince... do you not know my name... I am The Everdawn" she opened his hand, and put her fingers over the chain "this was his..." she looked deeply, and an feeling of emmence sadness appeared amid the grace in her eyes. "do not despair, perhaps I can help you" she gestured to her table "you need to talk... it will make you feel better"

[Orual]

"Oh, Eru ainu, Don, you're going to make me break down," Rie said, laughing a little too loudly. "I know my father would be proud of me, but I'm still not ready to go home. Besides, you just said you wouldn't leave me. How fair would it be for me to leave you? I have all the family I need here. I love my family, my brothers and parents, but I know I'll see them again. Who knows? Maybe they'll come to the Inn, looking for me. I hope they don't, though--I'd be in serious trouble then!" Rie laughed again, a genuine laugh, this time. "Oh, Barîm. I'm going to cry. Let's talk about something else, why don't we!"

She saw Don grinning at her as she wiped her eyes hastily with sleeve. "Quit grinning at me. I'm going to cry. You think you don't like crying in front of people? If I cried, I heard about it for weeks from my brothers."

"You can cry in front of me," Don said in a consoling voice. Rie smiled weakly and sat down.

"You can cry in front of me, too," Rie countered. "Ah! Why do I have to turn everything into an argument? Oh, Barîm, I always do that." She laughed once more, then let herself cry.

[Nurumaiel]

Don waited patiently for Rie to finish crying, and then took her hand. "Would you like to go back inside now?" she asked. "I'm sure Pio and Cami would be grateful of any help we could offer."

They walked back to the inn, and Don spoke again, "Rie, I don't really understand you. If I had a chance to get my parents and brothers and sisters back, I would jump at the chance. But you're running away from them. I just don't understand."

Rie did not answer, so Don continued.

"And you said that if you cried, you'd hear about it for weeks from your brothers. But you ran away, so your brothers won't ever know. At least you could go to your brothers if you wanted to, and I can't. I miss my brothers…" She sighed.

They came to the door of the inn, and Rie pushed it open. Don surveyed the room, and saw Pio carrying a little boy up the stairs with two girls following behind her. Don stared at them for a moment, and then dropped Rie's hand. A sob burst from her, and she whirled around and fled out the door.

[Burzdol]

"So this is the famous inn Bali had recommended so eagerly," said the the golden haired elf. Though he was middle aged, Burzdol looked only like an older teen. "Well, I 'ought to get inside before the rain starts, I hope I can get a room," he said thinking out loud.

Upon opening the door he came upon a strange site: men, dwarves, and elves were all crowded around different tables talking about war strategies and things of the sort. Baretone dwarven voices and laughter rang out loud as others told jokes to them. But where's Bali? He said he would be here.

Setting his mind aside, he decided to get a drink from the bar. Just what to get, what to get?

[theWhiteLady]

Laurie had entered her dark room and stretched out upon her bed with a long sigh. The only light was from the window, silver moonlight that trickled down through the trees to lay dappled across the room. The air was cooler up there, away from the large and crowded common room, and it was much quieter. Snatches of laughter and the hushed tones of a story murmered up through the floorboards and Laurie fell asleep trying to hear the end of the story.

The next morning dawned as bright and beautiful as the previous ones but Laurie awoke with a crick in her neck and a sore back. She had fallen asleep with her neck craned in a very peculiar position to hear the last part of the story, so she didn't quite appreciate the beautiful morning like she would have otherwise. A quick brush of her golden hair, and a change into a fresh, white dress and Laurie was off downstairs to begin the new day.

Laurie marveled once again at the number of people that constantly came through the Green Dragon. The room was full, even more full than when she had left it the night before. She made her way to the door, but before she could open it herself, a man walked in. He seemed travel-worn and rather tired, and his eyes swept the room as he spoke.

"Could I have some water, please? I've come a long way..."

Laurie saw that Pio was busy with some customers on the other side of the room, so she stepped behind the counter and fixed a tall glass of water for the man. She handed it to him with a friendly smile.

"Welcome to the Green Dragon, good sir. My name is Laurie of Rohan," she introduced herself with a small curtsy. "Is there anything you need besides a glass of water?"

[Falathion]

"Bah!" Turgon grunted and sat down at his table, but at once he sat back down, he felt an inch of guilt comming over him. He looked back at the old man, then nodded to himself.

"Me is sorry for being so rude to yer." Turgon bowed deeply as he had made his way over to the wizards table.

"A little too much beer, and a little less of a bed I had last night," Turgon said giving a grimaze, trying to make a smile.

"Me is Turgon Hardhammer, at yer service!" the dwarf said, bowing deeply. "There is more to yer then yer old figure me is guessing..." Turgon chuckled lightly. "Yer minding me givin yer company, master...?"

[Jesse]

* "I would be honored to have your company Turgeon. My name is Jesse the Wizard. I'm a wanderer, coming from the farthest point in Rohan.

What brings you to the Green Dragon Inn? You're forgiven by the way," the wizard asked the dwarf as he begins meditating. For weeks he's had visions that darkness was covering Middle Earth. He yearns to find out what the visions mean. Suddenly, he has another vision. Jesse is leading an army battle. The foe is unknown. Just then, lightning engulfs the sky and the whole of Middle Earth is covered with . Then the vision ends. The Wizard then stops meditating. He needs to catch his breath. This was the first vision that was intense.
Perhaps someone here at the Inn can translate my visions, the wizard Jesse thinks to himself.

Jesse sits up again and looks around for that person. However, he does not keep his hopes up.*


(OOC: I hope this is a long enough post. I'll try to make mine more long.)

[ January 27, 2003: Message edited by: Jesse ]

[astarielle]

A soft smile wondered over Astarielle's face as she replied "yes I would like another ale but please let me pay." Astarielle tried to get the barman's attention again but failed.

Astarielle got up slowly and took the mugs over to the other side of the bar and pulled Hirilaelin and herself another pint. She alsoleft the money on the side. With a single swift movement Astarielle glided over the bar and climbed back into her seat.

Astarielle took another sip and said, "thats much better." Amoment of silence came upon the two friends, as they thought about the conversation passed. After a while this silence was shattered by a loud neigh. It belonged to Talhandir, Astarielle's horse.

"Oh no, I must have forgotten, Talhandir is still outside." As quick as lightening Astarielle rushed outside, untacked TAlhandir and set her loose in a nearby field.

"Sorry about that Hiri" she said in a sympathetic tone as she walked in drenched. "I do not care much for this weather either"

[Schmendrick]

Durmán looked at the woman, startled. What was this? Who was she? How could she know all this? She had the strangest eyes he had ever seen. It seemed to him she could see right through him and he didn't like the feeling. He also disliked her touching the necklace that had almost become like a relic to him during his past solitary years.


Durmán drew back his hand and the necklace. He also felt stupid, having left the ring on. The last time he had entered the Inn he had taken it off, but this time he had been in such a hurry, he had forgotten all about it. He had indeed planned to talk with somebody - this was the very reason he had returned - but he had wished to do it on his own conditions, telling what
hechose to. Letting Dol Amroth go unmentioned even, if possible. But now it seemed he had no choice.


Again he looked at the woman and he thought he saw pity in her eyes. He wondered how much she really knew about him, but he didn't really wish to know.
Finally he spoke, keeping his eyes fixed on hers.


" I do not come from Dol Amroth, it has been years from my last visit there. It was my mother who gave me this ring." He was seemingly unwilling to tell more about it. "But tell me, how do you know about my brother? How do you know his name? Have you seen him? "

Durmán had decided to stay calm, but it was impossible. So many years had passed with no news about him.

"How do you know all this?", he repeated. "Have you heard about it while in Dol Amroth? I know the people there know my story.
For I do not believe in seers or prophets."

This was not entirely true, but Durmán felt suddenly quarrelsome. He was not used to strangers telling him about his life.


As he was waiting for her to answer, he saw a young rohan girl place a glass of water before him. He tried his best to calm down and smiled warmly to the girl, who looked somewhat lost behind the counter. "Thank you. Actually I could use something to eat, too, if that is not too much of a trouble? I haven't eaten a proper meal for days."


Then he turned back at the elven woman again. " I want to apologize for my behaviour. Please, tell me, do you really know something about my brother?"

[ January 27, 2003: Message edited by: Schmendrick ]

[Jesse]

*Jesse looks at Lumiel with a smile. His white hair moves, but there is no wind. The Wizard stares at Lumiel and then goes back to his business. It seems no one will be able to translate my visions. I can't go to Gandalf because he's too busy right now. There is no other wizard or person in Middle Earth that I know of that can tell me what my visions mean, Jesse thinks to himself with as he lets out a sigh.

Jesse stands up, grabs his staff and walks to the bar. He sits down on an empty barstool and puts his staff on the floor beneath the chair. The Wizard's green staff and robes shine brightly. Jesse then raises his hand:

"Bartender, I would like some milk if you would please. I'll be on my way within two days to go back to my homeland," the Wizard tells the bartender as he grabs his staff. He senses danger approaching, but when he sees none, he puts the green staff down again.*

[ January 27, 2003: Message edited by: Jesse ]

[Burzdol]

The heavy quiver and bow were weighing down Burzdol's right shoulder. Boy, Rivendell bows sure are light, but cumbersome. The long Mirkwood sword hung at his side, his hand clutching it in case of open conflict. Usually good natured, he had to fight quite a bit on his way to the inn. Laughing at a joke he had just overheard he walked a little farther in.

"Has anyone seen a dwarf named Bali," he asked. No one answered. No one even cared to listen. Well, I guess I'm going to have to find him myself. Slowly a women walked over to Burzdol.
"You new here?" she asked.
"Just passing by, I guess," he replied
"Where are you from?" she asked.
"The faithful woods of Mirkwood. Though I haven't been back there in a while. I miss walking the woods and riding Erigan, my horse. My friend Bali was supposed to meet me here. He is a jolly, but deadly dwarf. He is one of my oldest friends," he slowly explaned to the pretty girl.
"Can't say I know the names of any dwarves around here," she said, her eyes wandering.

The two found a small booth and sat down.
"So what is your name, tell me more of your story," she said sincerely.
"Well, my name is Burzdol Mora. My father is a stuwart of Gondor, I guess you could say that means that I'm part Numenarean. My mother, though, was a Mirkwood elf and I got traits from each. When I was eight my father gave me this sword, and said he had to go back to Gondor. I miss him so much, he taught me how to weild a sword, ride a horse, and make Gondor chilie. He was never to good with a bow, though, so my mother taught me everything I know. My mother raised me 'till I was old enough to venture in and out," he said as if he could see it in his mind.
"Sounds like you had an interesting childhood. How 'bout a drink?" she slowly asked.
"Sure, do they have malt beer?" Burzdol asked. "I haven't had one of those in a while."
"Two malt beers," she called to the bartender.
"So tell me your story now that I told you mine," he persisted.
"All I can tell you now is my name is Eltor," she said as an older, burly man walked by glaring at the two. "I got to go, bye."

With that the girl walked away. I wonder what that was about? Now where is Bali?

[ February 11, 2003: Message edited by: Burzdol ]

[theWhiteLady]

Laurie listened with some annoyance as the man she had addressed talked with his companions, her back really was beginning to be a bother. After awhile, he finally seemed to remember her and turned around with a friendly smile.

"Thank you. Actually I could use something to eat, too, if that is not too much of a trouble? I haven't eaten a proper meal for days."

Taken off guard by his smile, Laurie felt guilty at herself for being selfish. She disappeared into the kitchens set a pot of stew upon the fire to simmer. She also threw a loaf of fresh bread into the oven to bake, and set out a block of cheese and leftover apples. When the stew had finished, she poured a goodly portion into a bowl and set it upon a plate with the warm bread, cheese and apples. Laurie couldn't help but be rather proud at herself, she had never been much of a hand in the kitchens, always preferring to run around outside with her brothers. Still, it looked quite good, if she did think so herself, and she entered the room and set the plate down before the man with another curtsy.

"There you are, sir."

[Carrûn]

Narello sat twiddling his thumbs by the fire. The day had passed with its many comings and goings and the small sandy-haired boy had been seemingly overlooked by the larger things of life. He longed to be outside again, under the stars and the trees. Awyrgan had been teaching him a bit of the tounges of wolves and he was itching to try some of the more interesting lines out on some of the local livestock.

And here I am stuck, Narello thought with a bit of anger. He quieted himself quickly; the people here had done nothing but aid him in any way they could think of. He glanced around to take in the familier and many new faces flickering in the firelight. Some of the Rangers he recognized from his brief travels with Awyrgan. Awyrgan would wish me to stay here in safety, and I am sure he has told those in charge to watch me. But I desire to be off. Awyrgan had been a better teacher than he had ment to, and had unfortunately instilled the aching to travel in the small boy.

Narello's eyes crept around the room waiting for the right moment to slide out the door when a quiet shout of command seemed to enter his mind from far away bidding him to stay. He started, for the voice (if it had been a voice) was much like that of the weathered man who he attempted so hard to emulate. If he could have he would have shouted "No" back at the voice but he had no such skill. Surprised, he allowed himself to relax and consider his options. Not all that good, he decided. Finally, he arose from his seat and plodded his way over to where the Innkeeper sat. He spoke haltingly and as polite as his rough nature would allow.

"Ma'm." She looked at him clearly and he faltered, feeling a bit embarrased. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Ma'm, I...am bored," he ended rather lamely. "I bet Awyrgan told you to keep me here and look after me but I don't think he meant for me to stay here forever. I would like to leave soon...." His voice trailed off into a mumble about trees and rivers, and he took a moment to recompose himself. "But if you tell me to remain here I will," he finished.

[Orual]

It was so sudden, Don broke off sobbing and Rie had no idea what was going on. Stunned for a moment, Rie stood staring alternately at her and at Pio and the children. Finally she came to her senses. "Don!" she called, and started after her.

She found the girl huddled in a corner, crying her heart out. She looked so forlorn that it almost hurt to look at her: she looked so much like Rie undoubtedly did, huddled by a tree in the pouring rain on the nights when she couldn't afford to stay at an inn on the way from her house. So, worried and sympathetic, Rie knelt beside her. "Don, what's wrong? Are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?"

Don muttered something that Rie couldn't understand, and then the redhead realized that she was handling the situation all wrong: it wasn't at all the time for talking. "Come on, Don," she said, and held her arms out. Don looked up briefly and went to her.

This must be what Momma felt like, when I went crying to her, Rie thought as she hugged Don, like this person needs me for comfort. I can make her feel better. Still cradling the weeping child in her arms, Rie looked up at the ceiling. And at that moment, she felt that her father would indeed have been proud of her--and more, if he wasn't, she didn't care. Feeling a deep but inexplicable change in her heart, Rie turned her thoughts back to Don.

[Nurumaiel]

As Rie cradled Don, the girl's sobs slowly ceased. She brushed the tears from her eyes and then lay her head on Rie's shoulder.

"When I saw the elf, the one Nuru calls Pio, with those children," she said a quiet and tearful voice, "especially the little boy, it made me think of my family, of my twin brother. And... and... well, it was the first time it really hit me that I'd probably never see them again. I'd never seen a boy before that looked so much like my twin." She looked like she would begin to cry again, but she swallowed the sobs and continued.

"You must think me a real baby, but, oh, Rie, I miss him so much, and I want to see him again. But if I try, my aunts will get hold of me once more. I miss him so much..."

"I know, Don. I miss my family too." Rie kept from saying 'sometimes.' She wanted to say it, to keep Don from questioning her again as to why she wouldn't go home, but she knew it wouldn't be true.

Don looked up at Rie's face and then burst once more into passionate sobs. Rie stroked her brown curls and slowly the sobs ceased once more. Don was fast asleep.

[ January 27, 2003: Message edited by: Nurumaiel ]

[Himaran]

The man and dwarf talked about many things relating to their proposed journey; provisions, routes, and other things of that sort. At last they came to the most important part of their plan: creating a group of warriors to go with them on their journey.

"I will put a notice in this fine inn to aid our cause," said Bali. "We shall need every warrior we can get."

"It sounds like a reasonable idea," said Eruantalon. "I will have a look around the inn and see who I can recruit."

As Bali stood, he noticed a new face among the people near the bar. A young elf with long blond hair, obviously from the race of the elves of Mirkwood.

There was something about him that intrigued Bali, either the fine bow and longsword he carried, or prehaps his stance. And then the light dawned on him.

It cannot be...

[Beruthiel]

The graceful elf trotted up the path on a grey horse. She remembered this place, on a night long ago she had come here. It seemed like an age since she had been in this place, so much had happened after leaving here. Beruthiel dismounted her horse and led him to the stables.

She then walked to the front where the door was. In her mind she almost felt afraid to go inside, she hadn't talked to anyone for so long. Plucking up her courage she pushed to door open gently and slipped in as quietly as she could. The inn looked and felt the same as it had before, cosy and warm. There were many people, elves, men, hobbits and, to her disgust, even dwarves.

She walked up to the bar, feeling very unsure of herself and sat down silently. She removed her green hood to reveal her long, brown hair. The bar-maid came up and Beruthiel ordered an ale. She waited to see if anyone would speak to her.

[piosenniel]

The voice of the child was plaintive. "Ma'm, I...am bored," he ended rather lamely. "I bet Awyrgan told you to keep me here and look after me but I don't think he meant for me to stay here forever. I would like to leave soon...." His voice trailed off into a mumble about trees and rivers, and he took a moment to recompose himself. "But if you tell me to remain here I will," he finished.

Pio looked the young boy directly in the eye. ‘I will not keep you should you choose to go.’ She watched as his face registered a mild surprise and saw his shoulders slump as if he had prepared himself for another answer. She reached out and took his chin in her slender hand, turning his face from side to side as she scrutinized it closely. ‘You body appears young, Nárello. And at first I thought to keep you here, safe, as one your age should be kept. But inside you are not young. And your fëa longs to return to those places where it feels most alive and vibrant.’

She sat down on a stool, feeling the twins awaken with her, and reach out to touch the one who spoke with their ammë. ‘Where would you like to go, Nárello?’ she asked softly. ‘And what can I do to help you get there?’

[Falathion]

"Yer thinkin alot there, arn't ya?" Turgon said, beaming a smile at Jesse. The wizard returned an unconfortable look.

"Bah!" Turgon sighed. "To yer question. I am here with me caravan actually. Comin from the mighty boulders of the Bluemountains. Me brother is in town also. Running around the town he is, trying to find some friend of his that has offered money for some iron ore." He snickered softly at the thought of gold and mines.

"Anyway, we are heading for Bree, and then south to Tharbad. And if we have something left to trade or sell, we'll probably head all the way to Edoras." Turgon smiled, and the wizard returned it.

"A long journey lays ahead..." Turgon grinned. "And sore feet!" He chuckled and nodded. "Dwares weren't made for walking long distances." He giggled. "But for gold and gleaming stones we'll do anything."

"So what is yer buissness here in the Shire? Why passing through here? That is not common to me understandings?"

[Schmendrick]

"Thank you. Laurie, was it?" Durmán said as she placed the plate before him. He felt a little awkward, for he was not used to being served like this. The meal smelled delicious and suddenly Durmán realized how hungry he really was. For days he had not eaten anything else than hard bread and some fruits and berries.

" I think I didn't introduce myself yet. My name is Durmán", he said and bowed gently to the girl.

[Ardwenna]

Ardwenna paused at the door to the inn, reluctant to enter. She had never heard so many people together in one building, so loud, yet so merry at the same time. She brushed the worst of the dust off her green cloak and pants and tried to stomp off the dried mud on her boots. After she adjusted the small pack on her back, she steeled herself and opened the door.

As she entered the inn, her eyes widened and an unbidden smile curled the corners of her lips. Now this looked like an interesting place. She walked to a table that seemed unoccupied and took off her pack, setting it down on the chair nearest her. Sitting down in the chair beside her pack, she took off her cloak and stretched out her legs.

I wonder where I can get some water or tea here? she thought to herself. She was so thirsty after her long walk that day, and water had been scarce all throughout her journey. But where was the host/hostess in this place?

[Jesse]

*Jesse, the Wizard looks at Turgon and smiles.

"I've been thinking alot lately yes. See, I've been having strange visions. Ones I cannot begin to explain. Usually visions have an explanation behind them," Jesse says as he looks at the dwarf. He understands that Dwarves were not made for long walks. They are mountain folk and rarely venture outside of their kingdom. Perhaps I can help this dwarf, the wizard thinks to himself. He grabs his green staff and stands up. Now his green robe is very bright. The sun is shining and it brightens the wizard's robe even more.

"I came to the Shire in hopes that one could translate my visions. My name is Jesse the Green. Now though, I see that I must come with you on your journey. It could renew me and possibly we'll meet someone along the way that could translate my visions. It is sad that I cannot do this myself. I have something that we could trade," Jesse says as he opens up a box and reveals a blue robe with gold on it. The robe was his old robe before he became a Green wizard. The wizard then looks at Turgon with a smile.

"So, Turgon, what do you say? How about you and I going on a journey together?"*

[Carrûn]

'Where would you like to go, Nárello?’ she asked softly. ‘And what can I do to help you get there?’

Nárello stood stunned for a few seconds before realizing that the elf had just agreed to what he had asked for. Not expecting this, he was at a loss for words. "I want to go....outside....somewhere with trees, streams, wild animals, wolves." His green eyes flashed. "I don't really know," he finally admitted with a groan. "It is so simple when Awyrgan is around - I find out where he is and travel from here to there and then I tell him things and then he teaches me and now he's gone and I don't know where he's going or if he will come back because he wouldn't tell me and I'm afraid that know no one will be around to teach me more of the things I want to know and I don't know what I'm supposed to do and...." He caught himself and did his best to stop his babbling. "Sorry," he muttered.

"Can I have a drink?," he asked. "I want to just go outside and walk for a very long time, maybe all the way through the Old Forest or somewhere like that. But I think I might come back here sometime, Awyrgan seems to like it and so do I." He paused, and when he spoke again he sounded very much like a grown-up. "You know, Awyrgan was like a father to me even though he would never admit it. And whenever he leaves without telling me when he will be back I am at a loss as to what to do." He gave her his best effort at his infamous grin. "Could I have an apple?"

[Hirilaelin]

Hiri grinned as Astarielle came back inside the inn, water running down her cloak. "Wet then?" Astarielle shook the water from her cloak and sat down at the bar with her ale again. "Yes, wet would be a good way to describe it," she replyed sarcastically. Hiri laughed. "At least it's warm in here."

Sipping her ale and smiling gratefully, Astarielle replyed, "Yes, I am indeed glad." She looked around the inn. "Much better than under a bush, or by the side of the road. No fire, or a dry place to sit..." She pondered all the times she had weathered a storm without the warmth of an inn. Smiling again, she said, "Yes. Undoubtedly much better."

Setting her pint of ale down, Hiri said, "I rather like the rain and wet. I was the strange hobbit in Bree, because I like to swim, a most strange and disturbing habit for a young hobbit lass."

Astarielle remarked ruefully, "I like swimming well enough, but not with all my clothes on." Laughing, Hiri took another sip of the generous pint of ale. "Well, tell me something about your travels Astarielle! I may not be an adventurer myself, but I like to hear of adventures. Or perhaps," she added, "we could get something to eat. I am quite hungry."

[Burzdol]

Taking off his dark green cloak Burzdol walked to the bar counter. "A malt beer please," he said to the bar tender as he looked around. "Here you go," the bar tender said. The beautifully crafted mug hit his lips.

Ah, finally something familiar. Wait a minute, who's that dwarf over there. No he can't be, can he? Burzdol looked at the familiar face standing next to a man. Who could that be?

[ January 28, 2003: Message edited by: Burzdol ]

[piosenniel]

She was not taken in by the grin. ‘There are apples in the kitchen, if you wish one.’ She got up from her stool and walked him there, offering him one of the shiny red Shire fruit and a cool glass of water from the sink pump. He followed her, as she bade him to her rooms.

Once there, she looked through the small closet to the left of the door. It was at times like this she wished she were a tidier person. ‘Ah! Here it is.’ she said, fishing out a small backpack from a pile at the back. She handed the much used leather pack to the boy, who looked at it in a bemused manner.

‘Pack it up with all you wish to take or think you will need.’ She picked up an unused drawing pad from her desk and two drawing charcoals. ‘Draw me a picture of your journey as you go along, little master.’ She smiled at him and placed the items in the front pocket of the pack.

‘I shall have the cook leave a packet of food for you, a skin of water, and some apples. You can leave tomorrow if you wish, and go as far as the food will take you.’ She slipped a few silver pennies into a small pouch and tying it securely, put it into one of the side pockets. ‘Use these if you need to find a safe room for the night.’

‘You have a dagger, I have seen. So, you will have some measure of defense should you need it. And you have your sharp wits, so you should do well.’

He stopped midbite of his apple, realizing she was letting him walk out the door and meant it to be soon.

‘Anything else you require . . .?’

[Frodess]

With the catlike eyes appeared a face from the shadows. It was beautiful face that stared at Champignonne. Pink lips, and dark brows framed those strange eyes. He had also a noble nose. His hair was dark, Champignonne could not decide in that dark light, if it was black or a dark brown.

"Excuse me," spoke the being in the Common Tongue, "I did not mean to frighten you. Could you direct me to the Green Dragon Inn?"

"Um. . .eh. . " the frightened hobbit was speechless, but the being smilled comfortingly.

"I am sorry that I did not introduce myself. I am Tiquandel, and have travelled here from Rivendell."

"Rivendell? Then that would mean you are an elf!" In amazement, she bowed her head, as if in reverence of Tiquandel. He chuckled.

"And you, my dear, are a hobbit by the name of. . . "

"Uh, Champignonne"

"Well met. Now, would you show me to the Inn?"

"Certainly." With this, she walked with him to the door of the Inn and stopped.

"Will you not enter with me?" Tiquandel asked inquisitively. She noticed he had no horse.

"I was to leave this place. . . "

"Surely another night will do no harm. Come! Let me thank you and know you better, hobbit girl. I will pay for your board."

"It's not that. I have money, but. . . "

"Come! Let us go in." With this, he took her hand and opened the door. Some lokked at the odd pair, others were too absorbed in their own conversations. The elf walked Champignonne up to the bar, and asked to be served, adding "Indeed, you must be hungry, for I have heard the appetite of a hobbit is such that it cannot be compared with any being in Middle Earth!" He smilled jovially, and waited for their order.

[Burzdol]

The chain mail armored vest gleamed brightly even in the gloomyly lighted room. His brown pants and raged cape looked dull compared to the Gondorian armor. This apperal made him blend somewhat in to the rest of the crowd.

While the elf assesed his clothing the inn door opened. Since he happened to be in the back he couldn't see the person that walked in. A relitivily small elf walked over to Burzdol. "We need to talk," he said. The two walked to Burzdol's table and started to talk.

"The King of Gondor and your mother sent me here to you," the short elf said.

"Who are you, are you a messanger for my father," Burzdol asked hastily.

"Well," he began,"my name is Orlik son of Ontik and I guess you could say I'm Bi....I....I mean your father's messanger."

Burzdol persisted,"Well?"

"Well....I don't know how to say this. I....I....I am sorry to alert you that....um.... well....your father....um died in battle two days ago."

"What?" the elf roared as he raised form his chair. The whole inn looked over.

"Sit down, it's alright," he said, watching the face turn back to what they were doing.

Stifling a cry Burzdol replied,"What happened?"

"It was near the borders of Mirkwood. Your father and a few of the best warriors, including myself embarked on horses to see your mother and some other elves in the area. I think there were about twenty of us. A patrol of orcs came at us at the borders of the forest and only one escaped, on a warg I think. We couldn't catch him. By the time we caught up to him he had gotten about one hundred orcs. When the elves arrived we had already been anhialated. Your father and I were the only ones left. Doctors did all they could, but your father didn't make it. He just kept talking about you whilst he lay there. He said to tell you to go and help fight with the dwarf Bali. He also told me to give you this, it's a small token he got from Rivendell when he was just born. He said it was hand crafted by Lord Elrond himself. Though that's all he told me, well before he died." Orlik handed Burzdol a very long slender dirk.

"Thanks," Burzdol said as tears flooded his eyes.

"I must be going now, I thank you for your time and hope you feel better," and with that Orlik left the inn and Burzdol in the same.

As Burzdol watched the elf leave thoughts and memories filled his mind. Now I must find Bali, I now have a reason to fight.

[ January 28, 2003: Message edited by: Burzdol ]

[TheDoc]

Max sat in his favorite wooden chair, by the fire, with a pint of the best stuff in the shire. 'God, it's been a long day,' he thought. Max had been slaving away in the field all day, and it was tiresome work. Max was a young gardener for Podula Proudfoot, and he was itching to get out of the shire. He was odd for a Hobbit by stature; he was born thin, and tall, very tall, 4 foot 8 (which, for a hobbit, is gargantuan). He glanced around the inn, and saw many boisterous folks deep in talk with other travelers, and in a corner, a few men playing cards in a tight nit bunch. Max got up, repositioned himself, and sat back down ahain. He hoped something eciting would happen to him. He thirsted for a good adventure.

[Beruthiel]

Another elf had entered the inn. She was very fair and seemed as though she had journeyed far. Maybe she has also come from Mirkwood. Ruth glanced at her with her greye eyes quickly. The elf was weather stained and was brushing mud off her boots.

Ruth got up from her table and walked over to the elf. "Mae Govannen! Welcome to the Green Dragon. My name is Beruthiel of Mirkwood, may I join you?" She asked, smiling kindly at the elf.

[Burzdol]

"Good day to you 'mam, do you happen to know who the inn keeper is? I'm sorry if I'm intruding, but I need to get a room," Burzdol asked a beautiful elven maiden.

Where is Bali, where is he. Wait a minute, that dwarf over there seems like the jolly roaring friend I know. Maybe it's just my imagination.

[Orual]

Rie smiled. Don looked so peaceful, except for the tears that lingered on her cheeks. With the edge of her sleeve she wiped them off, and gently lifted the sleeping girl. She still had her room, so she carried Don into it.

She put her down on the bed and pulled the covers over her--of course, the covers had been down, since somebody would've taken Rie to the asylum if the bed had been made. She took one of the pillows and a blanket from the drawers and settled herself on the floor beside the bed. She put her arms behind her head, and stared up at the ceiling contemplatively. What a day--and it wasn't quite over yet, was it, she reminded herself. Likely not, days seemed to last longer at the Inn than they did in other places. Well, she had nowhere to go, and Don was sleeping like a baby.

This gave her some time to think. Now if only she could organize all the chaos in her mind to form some coherent thought...but no, she was awfully tired...

Before long, Rie was asleep, too.

[Nurumaiel]

The sun had not yet risen over Bywater when Don opened her large brown eyes. She found she was in a warm bed, and she recoginized the room as Rie's. She heard Rie breathing softly next to the bed.

Quietly pushing the covers back, Don creeped to the window as dawn broke. Tears stun her eyes as she remembered how her mother woke her to see the dawn a week before she died.

Rie was stirring, so Don ran back to the bed and jumped in, pulling the covers up to her chin and closing her eyes. She didn't want Rie to know she had been awake.

[Everdawn]

Umbria bowed her head. "do you not believe? you will, in time, for what I have to show you will change your mind. yes.. i am sorry... I should have told you" she looked at Durman "I an elf, an elf with the gift of perception, for which i can sence emotions and such.. I do apologise, I did not know you intended to no let known your mission. But I will not tell"

"a few months ago, on the western trail, I encountered bandits who attempted to rob me. I rode away from Dol Amroth, with out the knowing of even my liege. To my aid, came a young man who slew them and told me his name was Sinnediel... this of course I saw through that... his heart is weak.., i could see his name was Endel"

she smiled. "you have the same eyes.." she sat down " I myself had once to search for my own son, only to find him dead, i know too well your anguish" she paused.
"now, may I ask you a question before i tell you something you do not know?"

[piosenniel]

Pio left the boy to his apple and his thoughts. When he had figured out what he needed, he would come to her. She had other areas of concern that she must see to and soon. Lótessë had almost run its course, and Nárië would be upon her. In just thirty two days her son and daughter would greet the world, followed soon after by the wedding she and Cami were in the midst of planning.

She left the room, closing the door firmly behind her, and made her way to an empty table by the fireplace. A few sheets of paper were grasped in one hand, and the inkwell in another, while tucked on top of her left ear was a quill.

The Inn was busy today, humming with a multitude of conversations. Pio focused on the paper she had placed before her, and blocked out the noises and voices that surrounded her. The quill’s tip looked dull. She took the sharp little knife from her right boot top and honed it to an acceptable point. Dipping it quickly in the inkwell, she tapped off the excess ink and began to write.

Top of the list was the word Midwife. Now who did she know who could recommend one to her? Pio rubbed the feathered end of the quill against her cheek. She grinned as the ideal source for information came to her. Amaranthas! Tomorrow she would ride to see her and together they would sort this problem out. She wrote the venerable Hobbit’s name next to the word, and went on to number two.

Inkeeper. Both she and Cami would be unavailable starting mid-Nárië. Summers, as she understood from the regulars to the Green Dragon, were quite busy times of the year. Besides the locals, looking for a refreshing drink on a hot summer’s evening, there were many thirsty travelers on all sorts of business along the roadways at this time of year. They would all be wanting food, drink, and lodging as they passed through Bywater on their ways east or west, and the Green Dragon would be their place for it.

‘I wonder if one of the long time guests here would mind taking on the position.’ Her brow furrowed as she ran through the list. With a hesitating hand she wrote the name Derufin down. He seemed capable of doing the job well. He was a friendly sort, even handed in his approach to others, and seemed quite capable of handling himself in a sticky situation. ‘I’ll talk to him today about.’ she said to herself, drawing a firm line under his name.

She felt satisfied she had made this start on her list. Most of the other pressing issues concerned the wedding. They would have to be dealt with when Cami made an appearance. The Hobbit had already started a list of her own, one much more extensive than Elf’s poor short one.

Pio sat back in her chair, looking at the flames of the small fire. Her mind wandered from present matters, questing south to see where Mithadan might be. She watched the countryside as it sped past him, heard the hoof beats of the horse as it flew north, felt the breezes cool him as they rushed past his cheeks and brow.

Where are you now? she asked, feeling his mind turn to her. We miss you greatly. She chuckled, thinking how long it had been since he had last seen her. I fear you will not recognize me when you see me. Your son and daughter grow apace, and I sail slowly through the hours like some great merchant ship laden with treasures. Were you to place me side by side with the Star, I think I might overshadow her! She is a trim vessel, and I am not these days. She placed an image in her mind of a great lumbering vessel coming into port. One of the ships of Númenor that had sailed the seas in the early days to Vinyalondë and the Grey Havens. She laughed as he perceived it.

Someone was calling to her. Needing something seen to. She bade farewell to Mithadan, a faint kiss brushing his brow. Ride hard, beloved. she called to him. I would see you soon.

[Himaran]

Bali stood out of his chair so quickly that his boot curled around one of the legs, toppling him over (to the general laugh of the elven audience). "Had one too many ales, aye dwarf?!"

Ignoring them, but thinking murderous thoughts to himself, Bali pulled himself up and attempted to run through the room, bumping, tripping, and generally nocking patrons over.

But when he arrived at the table he had seen the elf at, it was no elf but two strange men who sat there, deep in conversation. He turned away from them and scanned the crowd. My!, the inn had gotten full.

[ January 29, 2003: Message edited by: Himaran ]

[Himaran]

Eruantalon saw Bali's mishap at his table first-hand, and though he laughed along, was worried about his legs and was quite glad to see him stand up and hurry off. Now where is that dwarf off to again?

Following (or attempting to) Bali through the noisy crowd, he found him standing at a small table where two men sat. The dwarf was scanning the crowd, obviously looking for someone.

"My friend," said Bali, "unless my eyes have decieved me, I just saw the elf Burzdul, who I knew when I was living at the Lonely Mountain.

We were good friends, but then, about a year before I left on my journey, he went south from his home in Mirkwood to study at a famous school in Gondor. I thought, as I was not going there, that I might not get to see him again. But here he is, in this vary same in..."

Bali's face turned to a frown. "But he is gone! I saw him sitting here, and now he has disappeared."

"What does he look like?," asked Eruantalon. "I will help you look for him. If we split up, we can find him quicker."

"He is an elf no younger than I, but that won't help you much as they always look young. He wears Gondorin armor, drab brown pants and a ragged brown cape, as he took off his green Mirkwood hood. His bow is over there, by the rack where my axe is, but he still carries a long, single-edged elven sword. Oh, I am forgetting; he has long, golden blond hair."

Eruantalon smiled. "Well, that should help us. I will look around in the crowd, you check the rooms in the back. Meet back at our table when you are finished." Then they left the table, going their separate ways.

[ January 29, 2003: Message edited by: Himaran ]

[ January 29, 2003: Message edited by: Himaran ]

[Rochelle]

Never before had she ventured into the west this far. Her aimless wandering along with her stout steed had carried her from the southern plains.

The lady of Rohan dismounted and bid her horse to the stablehand before removing her hood and entering the inn. Her long golden locks were pulled back from her face, accompanied by a single feather. At her side a sword lay sheathed.

She looked around before taking up a position against one of the walls. There was quite the variety of beings dwelling here.

Ai..gwaith nin, man govannas daer

[ January 29, 2003: Message edited by: Rochelle ]

[ January 29, 2003: Message edited by: Rochelle ]

[Burzdol]

"Excuse me again Pio, I think that's your name. But do you happen to know who the inn keeper is and where I can get a room," the pretty elven maiden seemed to be content with what she was doing at the moment.

Well, now that's something you don't see everyday. What a strange dwarf over there. Burzdol watched from afar a dwarf tripping and running around. Burzdol laughed to himself, just what I needed to raise my spirits.

[ January 29, 2003: Message edited by: Burzdol ]

[Ardwenna]

"Hello Beruthiel, my name is Ardwenna, formerly of Rivendell. Currently, well..wandering I guess you'd call it."she smiled "Pleased to meet you. Please join me." Ardwenna indicated one of the wooden chairs at the table.

She looked around again. "You wouldn't by any chance know where I could get some water would you? I haven't been here before, so I'm not sure if I should wait for a hostess or just approach the bar myself." Ardwenna smiled "And there are so many different people here is it always this...busy?"

ooc:ruth, I'm assuming you're talking to me, right?

[ January 29, 2003: Message edited by: Ardwenna ]

[Manardariel]

"Mama...fire...hot..NO!!!!"

Vivi bolted up. Tom was lieing next to her, screaming, crying, caught in a terrible nightmare. She turned to him, started to shake him.

"Tom, Tom, wake up. Tom, it´s only a dream, wake up, please. TOM!"
He opened his eyes, staring at her.

"Vivi? Mama...fire..." He burst into tears, burrying his face in her lap. She gently stroked him, rocked him. He cried on. She continued rocking him and then, quite suddenly, began to sing.

"In the Woods of Michel Delving
on the road to the Far Downs
Stand three trees
Stand three rocks
Is the oldest pool

Every Night the stars they shine
on this pool and awake
the fairy queen
have you seen
Her and her people?"

It was "The Ballad of the Fairy Queen", a song Tom dearly loved, a song his mother had sung for him every night. By instinct, Vivi knew this tune was the only thing that could have calmed him down. And really, he had stopped crying.
She got up from her bed and opened the curtains to the small room the three of them were sharing. Golden, blazing sunlight filled it. Emma, who had slept peacefully, despite of all the noise, woke up. "Mowwing!" she crowed. Vivi gave her a kiss on the cheek. She dressed herself and the kids, then they went down for breakfast.

As soon as they entered the big room, Tom let go of Vivi´s hand and ran to the bar, jumping right into Pio´s arms. Vivi followed him to pick him up, looking concerend.

"I am so sorry" she told Pio, eben though the elf didn´t seem to mind.
"Good Morning by the way. Could we maybe have some breakfast?"

[arelendil]

The mistrel had finished his story. So Elwen thought to herself, a strange one indeed. The Dwarf seated with them had suddenly jumped to his feet and then fallen over. Elwen gasped and held her breath but he was fine and was soon off throught the crowd. Erulon excused himself and ran quickly after the dwarf leaving the two maidens at the table. It had all happened so quickly.

"Well, dear friend Nostawen." Elwen spoke to the elven maid seated beside her. " I guess that they will return and we must amuse ourselves until they do!"

She laughed and flicked her hair behind her shoulder. her fingers ran down the silver bow still in her lap as she gazed after the disappearing figure of Erulon.

[theWhiteLady]

" I think I didn't introduce myself yet. My name is Durmán", he said and bowed gently to the girl.

Laurie smiled and watched Durmán enthusiastically start in on the stew. Laurie waited on a few more customers and was quite shocked at the number of people gathered. And more kept coming in! She began to wonder how Pio was going to find rooms and food enough for them all. Pio looked rather involved in writing something down however, so Laurie decided not to bother her. After handing out another cup of warm tea, she returned back to where Durmán was now tackling the warm bread.

"Durmán, what brings you to the Shire? I had always heard that it was supposed to be a quiet place, but since I have arrived here, the inn has only become more busy! I cannot imagine what is bringing all these people to this peaceful land."

[Nurumaiel]

Rie and Don walked down the stairs, hand in hand. When they reached the common room Rie sat the hobbit girl down at a table and said, "I'll see if I can get some breakfast for us."

When Rie had left, Don slid off her chair and walked over to where Vivi, Emma, and Tom were standing together. The elder girl was holding the boy, but she put him down and held his hand. Don walked over and stood in front of him. "I heard your name was Tom," she said.

The little boy nodded.

"I'm Don." The hobbit girl hesitated, and looked at the boy. She felt tears threatening to come to her eyes, so she spoke quickly. "Is it okay," she whispered, "if I be your friend?"

[Schmendrick]

Durmán looked at the Elven woman, unable to decide if he should believe her or not. He couldn’t understand his own behaviour; finally someone who knew something about Endel and he wasn’t more excited! But he found it so hard to understand.


Eight long years with no news about him and now this strange lady – seer if she was to be believed – claimed to have met him. And the thing that surprised Durmán the most was the description of Endel defending her against the bandits, even killing some of them?


Durmán could only remember Endel as a young boy; blond, curly hair, innocent, joyous character, in every possible way the opposite of himself. Could this be true? But it was indeed a long time from the day Endel had left and if he really was alive, he should be 17 or 18 now… Durmán turned to the woman again, observing her closely.


“ You say you are a seer, but how can I be sure that what you say is true? I only know that I haven’t seen Endel for eight long years now and I only remember him as a young boy. You can imagine how it surprises me to hear what you have just told me. How can you be sure that it was indeed him ? How can you claim to see in his heart?” Durmán paused. And why would he have lied about his name, he thought to himself. Was he in danger?


“And tell me, lady Everdawn, did he speak of his mother? For did you know that he is only my half brother? He and her mother left us eight years ago, after…” Durmán didn’t finish his sentence. He had already said too much. He turned to Laurie, who was standing nearby. “I am sorry if I am not paying you enough attention, but as you may have overheard, I am looking for my brother and this lady claims to have seen him. This is the very reason I have come to the Shire, to answer your question: to find my brother. This is one of the last places in Middle Earth where I still haven’t been to on my travels.”

[astarielle]

Astarielle ordered a steaka and ale pie for both Hirilaelin and herself. While they waited for them to arrive Astarielle began to tell the tales of her adventures. However as thought that others might want to listen too, so she lept up on to the bar adn gave a piercing whistle.

----------everyone fell silent---------------

"Those who would like to her the tales of a trvelling elf from Mirkwood, join Hirilaelin and I by the bar." Said Astarielle in a loud voice, well loud for an elf anyway.

Astarielle jumped down and said aside to Hiri, "I think that got there attention!". Hiri smiled and chuckled, "I do believe your right Astar", Hirilaelin said as a band of hobbits, elves and dwarves came over.

"First, I need another drink." Said Astarielle looking around at the group hoping someone would offer to buy one. "When everybody is quite ready I shall begin."

"I do not know where to start for to know where to start you need to know where to end. But as my life is not yet over it leaves me in a dilemma. Would you like to hear my story from my birth or just the great courageous battle parts?" She said raising her voice slightky at the end of the sentence and glancing once more at the group.

[Hirilaelin]

Hiri smiled as a crowd of people cam over to the bar. "Well, it did get their attention Astar."

"Would you like to hear the story from my birth,or just the great corageous battle parts?"

Hiri chuckled softly. "The battle parts sound good to me!"

[Legolas'_girl]

Melcirial wandered over to the bar. For a while, she had sat unnoticed in the corner, listening to fascinating tales of battles and of days long past. The young elf approched the edge of the gathering crowd and timidly made her way to the front of the throng. She found an out of the way place and sat down on the floor, folding her long, light grey cloak around her body. Quietly she sat in this manner, waiting for the tale to begin. She was terribly thirsty, but as she was unsure of the locals' treatment of newcomers, she stayed silent.

[Rochelle]

She too in turn accompanied the gatherers at the bar. She herself had been raised in Mirkwood though she was not of their elvish race. Through their rearing and guidance she had been taught their language, archery, rope weaving among other things.

"I have great interest in hearing of your Mirkwood tales, mellon"

[Jesse]

*Jesse, the Wizard nods at Melcirial and smiles. His green tunic glistens in the sunlight. It is not often he sees an Elf wearing a grey cloak. The wizard walks up to her.

"My name is Jesse. I see you are new to these parts. Perhaps I can be of assistance? May I get you a drink?" the Wizard askes as he looks at Turgon. He mouths the words We will continue our conversation later. Jesse then smiles back at Melcirial.

"So tell me Melcirial, what brings you to the Shire?"*

OOC: Welcome to the BarrowDowns by the way.

[Legolas'_girl]

The young elf was surprised that one so great as a wizard would take care to notice a poor stranger alone in a land far from home. Slowly she nodded and smiled back at Jesse.

"Suilad. Thank you for the drink, Jesse. And as for my reason for being here, I am only a traveler who accompanied elder family to the west and I return now alone, for I wish not to leave Middle Earth."

[Jesse]

*Jesse smiles at her and before them appears two mugs. One is filled with and the other is filled with grape juice. The Wizard holds the grape juice in his hands and nods at Suilad.

"I drink this to your health Suilad. See, I am not like most wizard folk. I talk to the people that most wizards dispise. I find that the friends I make with those folk are lifelong friendships, versus the friends I make with wizard folk. I came to the Shire in hopes someone could tell me what the visions I've been having mean. So far, no one has helped me. Turgon over there is a kind dwarf. I'm hoping to join him on a quest soon. My apologies for calling you another name Me'lady," the wizard said as he takes a sip of his grape juice. Then he bowed. He grabs his green staff and looks around him. Jesse scratches his long white beard.

"I don't suppose you can translate visions?" the wizard askes Suilad.*

[Eruwen]

Rave sat quielty at her table in the corner. There had been an invitation to join some at the bar for a story, but she felt rather reluctant to go. She just felt to want to sit back unnoticed and watch everyone as she thought back on the events of the day.

Many other people had entered the inn---Elves, Dwarves, and of course many Hobbits. She noticed Laurie was talking to a traveler over in another part of the inn, and that scene made her think once again of the Rangers. Not many would come to the Shire, yet even if there were any in the Green Dragon she would not be able to find them due to the large accumulated crowd in the inn.

Rave decided to just wait until more people left before she started any further search for help. The long, dark green hood she wore covered her bright, green eyes just so that she could barely glare out from underneath the hood. She grasped the hilt of her sword tightly as she thought of her long journey from Rohan.

[Rochelle]

Rave sat quielty at her table in the corner. There had been an invitation to join some at the bar for a story, but she felt rather reluctant to go. She just felt to want to sit back unnoticed and watch everyone as she thought back on the events of the day.

In turn, she turned from the gathering. As much as she wanted to hear of the place she had grown up, it was much too crowded. She noticed the watcher. A glint of a welcoming smile graced her lips and she wandered over, motioning to the empty seat across from her.

"Mind if I rest myself in your company?"

[Eruwen]

Rave nodded her head as a woman with long, golden hair approached and asked for her company. Rave looked at the woman keenly. She looked to be a maiden of Rohan. Many already had come to this inn by her surprise. Perhaps this was a popular place to come.

"Greetings," Rave said to the stranger. "I am Ravenne of Rohan, but most people call me Rave." She looked over as the maiden brought a queer look to her face.
"Let me guess," Rave continued. "You are wondering how I could be a maiden of Rohan looking the way I do, right?"

Rave removed her hood to reveal the dark brown locks underneath. "Yes, if I may admit, I am not originally a citizen of Rohan. I was brought there unknowingly as a child when someone found me. I have grown to be a traveler of Middle Earth since my childhood. But now I have a question for you...what is a Rohan maiden of yourself doing all the way out here in the Shire?"

[Rochelle]

She sat down "Hannon le mellon Thank you friend" then nodded, "That indeed crossed my mind when you mentioned your home of Rohan." She smiled "I too am a wanderer of Middle Earth, I departed from Mirkwood after my seventeenth season."

She rested her arms on the wooden table. "I myself did not grow up in the lands of the South. My family was massacred by a nomadic tribe of orcs when I was but a lass. Until I started my journey, I resided in Mirkwood, in the house of Moonstone."

She smiled again as was habit "It appears that we both share a common history..."

[ January 29, 2003: Message edited by: Rochelle ]

[ January 29, 2003: Message edited by: Rochelle ]

[Carrûn]

For a moment Nárello stood stunned as he realized that the Innkeeper was giving him what he wanted. He dumbly followed her to the closet from which she retrieved a worn pack. This is more like it, the boy grinned to himself. From the nearby desk the elf obtained a set of drawing tools.

"Draw me a picture of your journey as you go along little master."

Nárello nodded silently. He was good at drawing and had learned a bit of Elvish from Awyrgan and even a few Dwarf runes. His little knowledge seemed to pale greatly in the presence of the elf and he decided it would be best to write in the Common Tounge to be safe.

He listened with half an ear as Pio detailed how he could get food, "defense," and when he could be off but his mind was already wandering out the door of the Green Dragon and down the dusty path. He was debating whether to go North or South when she interrupted his thoughts.

"Anything else you require?"

He shook his head slightly and she left him to pack. He looked himself over. He had had a bath and his clothes were again clean. He fastened his boots securely and placed his small dagger in the inside of his jacket where he knew he could quickly obtain it. He fastened his clock around his shoulders and walked into the kitchen where he found the food and waterskin.

He placed the food into the pack and carried both it and the empty waterskin into the room where he had been sleeping. He made a note to fill the skin with water in the morning and walked back out into the main room. A dwarf in the midst of some act of either great surprise, joy, stupidity, drunkenness or a combination of them all stumbled over his feet in a hurry to cross the room. Others sat in the shadows or at the bar. Nárello took his traditional spot by the window and taking a piece of paper and pen he began to sketch.

[The Flame Of Anor]

Two bright eyes appeared in the window for a fleeting moment. Taking in the scene they proptly vanished.

Several minutes pass before a young man, barly hobbit height, (yet clearly not a hobbit) quitely (and conspicuously unnoticed), entered the door. Quickly selecting a seat in the corner, he sat down, revealing no sword, but three short knives under his brown cloak.

(EDIT: Removed Sig)

[ January 29, 2003: Message edited by: The Flame Of Anor ]

[Rochelle]

Lauromae Moonstone made his presence seemingly unknown as he wandered outside of the inn. He had followed her here, without her knowledge, and he wanted it to remain so until he felt she was ready.

He was clad in the garments of Mirkwood. His long blonde hair fell straight down his back as his elvish gaze pierced through the glass and into the mingling people. A full quiver was to be seen, yet his bow remained hidden. It was rare enough that an elf was made present in the shire, but he had to make sure she was alright.

Turning his back to the wall he glanced at his surroundings. The people seemed friendly enough and hardly set a look in his direction. Perhaps elves were more common here than he thought...

[The Flame Of Anor]

Looking around the room, the brown cloaked boy was suprised at the diversity. Having been told this was a meeting place for men and halflings, he was suprised to notice many bright swords, elves and nobel looking folk. Some even seemed to be skilled warriors.

The boy could feel the presence of at least one wizard, or perhaps a mighty elf. Yes, here he would find a teacher, he thought.Or perhaps, as he lost his focus and pepole began looking at him, a teacher would find him...

[ January 29, 2003: Message edited by: The Flame Of Anor ]

[ January 30, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[theWhiteLady]

With a blush, Laurie realized she had interrupted a conversation between
Durmán and a beautiful lady. Durmán turned to her with all politeness once again and kindly answered her question.

"This is one of the last places in Middle Earth where I still haven’t been to on my travels.”

"Then I wish you a most pleasant stay here, and if you need anything else, please call."

Laurie curtsied once more and made a hasty exit, her face slightly pink. She decided a visit with her best friend, Nell in the stables, might be in order and there were still the chores to do, so she gathered up the fold of her white dress and began to make her way to the door.

[Orual]

Rie rubbed the sleep from her eyes and stifled a yawn. It was strange, she had gotten plenty of sleep--too much, actually. There was a narrow window of time that Rie could sleep--too little or too much, and she was thrown off.

So stumbling a little bit she headed for the kitchen until a newcomer caught her eye. He was small, but not a Hobbit, cloaked in brown and gazing around the Inn, absorbing the scene, much as she had her first night. Don seemed to be occupied, so Rie went over to the boy. She put a hand on his shoulder, and said, "Suilad, young sir. Can I help you find something?"

[Eruwen]

Rave smiled a weak smile. "Yes," she said. "It seems we do."

She sat thinking of what to say next when she noticed a strange looking creature enter the inn. Rave eyed him every so often as she continued conversing with the Rohan maiden.

"Oh, um, I didn't get your name did I?" said Rave quickly.

The stranger at the door was very much keeping her interested. He was not a Hobbit, for Rave had seen many since she had entered the Shire. She watched out of the corner of her eye as someone walked over to him. Out of all the strange creatures in Middle Earth, he was by far one of the strangest. Rave was not sure if she could call him a man or a dwarf, but she turned her attention back towards her company waiting for a reply.

[Rochelle]

She shook her head "No..I don't supposed I offered my name. Im Rochelle of the house of Moonstone in Mirkwood. What might you call yourself?"

Her eyes followed the gaze of her companion and she smiled "Do you know that being? Perhaps we should invite him to join our fellowship?"

[Everdawn]

Umbria stared at Durman, almost searching for something. "you must understand, that not I alone, can tell you everything. Perception and Seeing are different. There are many answers in this world I can not fathom, then do you think I would have found my son in time to save him?"

she sighed. "your brother has suffered great change since you saw him last. I know nothing of a mother. Though I felt emmence trouble. I think he may have met with the rangers of the north. There are two over there, one is Alaemas, the other Dolenmar, they owe me a great favour, perhaps we will speak with them? or you will tell me your whole story?"

She gestured to two dark men sitting away from the crowd by the fire talking among themselves.

[The Flame Of Anor]

SAVED FOR REWORKED POST

[ January 30, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Grimbold]

Grimbold reclined in the shadows, intently watching the faces and expressions of the others as they interacted. As a Ranger of the North, Grimbold was always visiting such meeting-places where he could hear rumour of the comings and goings, and passing events in the surrounding lands. He was also--above all else--an excellent determiner of character and motives. He could discern the thoughts of others by their faces, or through their shifting eyes.

Grimbold was always waiting and ready for a chance to serve the purposes of the free kingdoms of men in whatever small ways he could. Such an opportunity--he felt--was approaching as he watched the others in the chamber. Curling smoke furled out from his mouth in a long and twisting arc, and the leaf in his pipe glowed orange. He would see how the conversation developed, and he would follow one, or two, or all of them, or he would make himself known to them, all depending on the outcome of the following words...

[Falathion]

"Hrmf!" Turgon managed to sigh out as the wizard walked over to the young elf. "Me is not sitting at an elven table!" He said harshly and grinned at the the elven maiden.

"Never shall me acompany an elf, not after what they did to me kin!" He crossed his forearms and spillt out a great sigh, sitting there, looking angry. He would like some company on his journey by someone else then just his brother... but never an elf!

Not if a thousand orcs were running for him he would take help from an elf!

[astarielle]

As she waited for the crowd to fall silent Astarielle ordered a round of drink for everyone. A great cheer was heard.

"My story begins in Mirkwood, however I shall not start my tales there. As I look around, I see many faces scarred by war and souls broken by love. I'll tell the dtory of a little known battle in Eregion."

Astarielle paused.

"An evil wind blew from the east bringing a cloud of darkness. This shhroud decended upon a small party of elves, of which I was one, who were travelling to Rivendell. In the darkness a shrill wail could be heard, moaning. It talked not in tongues of men nor elves but in a language even I could not decipher, though it did bear a resemblance to elvish. I know now it was the language of Mordor."

A hush had decsended upon the crowd of listeners.

"Beneath the darkness a battle cry was heard and a mass of pointed spears emerged in the distance. I could not judge there distance nor there speed because of the darkness. We seemed surrounded, but how no one knew. The horizon was empty on all sides just a minute before. We had stayed close to the cliff for protection but how could a cliff fail?"

"The enemy were close, but not close enough....................."

Astarielle decided to take a break to the dismay of all. She sat back down next to Hiri.

[theWhiteLady]

As always, the smell of horses and hay brought back memories of home in Rohan, and Laurie felt a wave of homesickness wash over her and settle into her stomach with an uneasy feeling. She worked much slower than usual, her back still sore, but she enjoyed being around the many horses. It was interesting to see the many different shapes, sizes, and personalities; Laurie could never understand the people who insisted all horses looked alike. Why, the quaint grey hobbit pony standing next to Rave's strong horse from Rohan looked like a completely different creature!

Laurie skipped Nell's stall until she had finished with the others. Nell had been unusually quiet; she hoped nothing was wrong. Laurie peered over the stall door and laughed quietly to see her brown mare curled up and sleeping upon the shavings. Careful not to make the door squeak as she entered, Laurie slipped in and sat down beside Nell. She stroked the brown mane thoughtfully, and as she sat, Laurie felt a longing, stronger and more poignant than ever before to stand upon the edge of the sea and look out across the water to Elvenhome beyond. Laurie sat there for a long time, lost in her thoughts.

[Himaran]

Bali hurried through the inn, looking this way and that to catch a glint of the golden hair of his elf-friend. But there were many elves in the central room now, and all had; well, long golden hair!

Finding his way to the back of the inn, where several passageways lead away from the commotion, Bali noticed a young elf talking to Piosenniel, the Innkeeper. Thats him! But I will not intrude, I can wait until he gets his key...

[ January 30, 2003: Message edited by: Himaran ]

[Rochelle]

As her company found keen interest in the brown cloaked boy at the door, she herself let her eyes roam the inn. They soon landed on a ranger nearby. His stature and shadow gave him a mysterious aire.

The fairness of her features gave an apperance of a smile. She had been warned that rangers were gwaith andelu, but she felt never to lay judgement on any save orcs. Her smile beckoned, and should he deem it necessary to join their table, he would be welcomed.

[ January 30, 2003: Message edited by: Rochelle ]

[Schmendrick]

” The whole story?” Durmán repeated, and all of a sudden it looked like all colour had escaped his face. He opened his hand, where the silvery necklace still lay, as if asking counsel from it. He almost wanted to share the story with someone, finally, and he was starting to trust the lady. But he feared there might be other ears listening.
“This story is too long to be told here, and of little interest to anyone else but myself I fear, but I will tell you something.”


He leaned closer to the woman and started: ” My mother is of high family in Dol Amroth, distantly related to the Prince himself. Elewanda is her name. In her youth he fell in love with my father, Bergil, a wild and solitary ranger. However, her father did not approve of their love and one night they escaped to lead a life in the wild. There I was born.


Some years passed, and my mother started getting restless. She had been hasty making her decision, and the life in the wild was starting to bore her. She asked for my father’s permission to go to visit her family in Dol Amroth and promised to be back in two week’s time. But she never returned. This drove my father crazy. He took me with him – I was only 11 at the time - and rode to Dol Amroth, to claim her back, but we were not let to enter. In his wild fury he killed one of the guards.” Durmán paused. His eyes had grown dark. “Do you still want me to continue?”

[Lumiel]

Lumiel pressed her eyebrows together as she listened to Farrehn's sad story. She said nothing, listening almost ravenously to the tale. When Farrehn brought out her blade, or at least a part of it, she looked at it and felt almost like a dark shadow was on her head, but it seemed to be controlled and restrained, by Farrehn's will she guessed. When Farrehn finished her tale, Lumiel spoke.

"You have lived a hard life, harder than mine, and longer too, I think from what I have heard. I could not pity you, Farrehn, looking at you now drives out any thought of it. You are a strong person, stronger than most I have met, though those are few and far between. But I cannot help but feel some sorrow for your story, though that part is over.

For myself, well, I was born to high elven parents, though I know nothing of them except blurred memories and the name Rovalhir. But I do know that I was raised as a child by them.

They were leaving for the Grey Havens, when I was but a child, and I was to go with them. They had lived alone, but kept in contact with their elven kin, and had arranged to meet them at the port where the ship was docked until they left. My mother, father, and myself left our small sylvan home and headed out for the ship.

It was a long journey, and a sad one it proved. We were about 3/4 of the way to our destination, when we were ambushed by orcs. My father fought bravely, but was overpowered and mercilessly killed. My mother tried to escape with me. Unfortunately, she did not get far before we were both surrounded, and she died like my father, protecting me. I was terrified, I thought I was going to die. I cried, I begged them for mercy. I was only a child, but I am ashamed of what I did.

They spared me my life, and took me captive. I know that my elven kin did come to search for me and my parents when we did not arrive, but they found only my parents' body, and no trace of me. They gave up hope, the orcs' trail had long gone cold by then and they left me for dead.

I was the orcs' prisoner for several months. At first I feared that they would eat me, or perhaps sell me as a slave. I was afraid of so many things happening. Instead, I was their entertainment. They would toy with me, make me grovel for a piece of maggoty bread or a mouthful of their horrid brew. I had no choice but to do as they said, whatever it was that they wanted. During those months of torture, I forgot almost all of my past, and seemed to know only my life with the orcs.

Finally, I was rescued. The large orc band had split up, and I was with a small group of about 15 orcs. One dark, moonless night, we were attacked by a lone man, though in the dark he loomed high above me like some dark shadow demon. He grabbed me, and I screamed, waking up the orcs, and he had to fight them. He slew every one of them, leaving them to die in their own filthy blood.

He took me away to his home, but at the time I didn't know that he meant to help me. I kicked and screamed, but I was in no condition to fight. Finally, when the sun crested with the dawn, I saw that he was a man, though his visage was scarred and twisted. His name was Farrin and he was a Black Numenorian. He took care of me, he healed me, and he helped me recover from my ordeal.

After a few months, I felt as good as new, but I did not want to leave, for I felt I had nothing ot go back to, and I was afraid of what might happen if I did. So he took me in and raised me. He taught me the ways of the land, and how to fight. I have never known a better swordsman than Farrin. He told me of my elven heritage and language which I had forgotten. But, as I am immortal, and he is mortal, though a Numenorian, he grew old. I had grown up in my time with him, and he had become my father and mother.

Before he died, he told me the truth about himself, about his black past. He had betrayed his people, and had been exiled under threat of death by Aragorn himself. He had been following the band of orcs through his home of exile, and noticed an elven girl, me, among them. He thought that if he rescued me, he could use me to gain access to the world once more. At first his intent had only been to use me, but he grew to love me like his own daughter, and I pretty much was.

He died shortly after, but told me to do two things for him. One, to clear his name to his people, and two, to find my kin. He gave me his sword, and I set out shortly after, and have since arrived here. I seem to know very little of the world, having been raised in isolation both by my parents and Farrin. I'm still a little shaky around people, mostly elves, but I'm getting over it. Sorry my story was a bit long winded...."

Lumiel gave a small, quirky smile, somewhat embarassed by how much she had spoken. She didn't think that she had done that before in her life! Her throat felt dry, and she wondered if Farrehn felt the same.

"Farrehn, can I buy you a drink perhaps?"

[Jesse]

*Jesse notices the boy in the brown cloak. He motions for the boy to come over to his table. The wizard smiles and scratches his long white beard a little bit. Then he turns to Turgon. Jesse stands up and says:

"Turgon, is that your name? I have not received your answer about us going on a journey together. Perhaps the boy over there in the brown cloak can join us. You could teach him how to be a warrior and I can teach him some magic. Plus, we can trade my blue robe along the way for something good. What do you say?" the Wizard says as he looks at the boy in the cloak. The boy is startled that the wizard noticed him. He is a bit shaky as they look each other in the eys. Then Jesse turns to Turgon. He stands there waiting for the dwarf and the boy's responses.*

[The Flame Of Anor]

The boy excused himself from the table for a minute, and moved over towards the apparent wizard. He introduced himself as Stryker, a boy from the North.

"A journey you say? I would be honored to join you. While I am not a warrior, i do learn extremly fast, and could learn much from a wizard." He said.

However, he had buisness to attend to for several days, but would, when he returned, seek out the wizard and perhaps join him on his journey. With that, the boy stood up, and (with quite a bit of effort) seemed to disappear into the crowd. Those with very sharp eyes would have seen him exit the Green Dragon, and head North. He would return on Monday.

[Jesse]

*Jesse the Wizard looks as the boy walks out of the Green Dragon Inn. The wizard lets out a sigh and then turns to Turgon. His white beard is moving but there is no wind. The wizard's green robes are glistening in the sunlight once again.

"Turgon, let me know about your decision. I plan to retire for the day. It has been a long journey and I will need my rest." Jesse says as he walks to the counter. Seeing no one is around, he raises his voice and says:

"I would like a room here. Could someone direct me to one?" the wizard said as he leaned on his staff. His tired eyes scan the room for a sign of a response. Jesse then gets out some money to pay for his room. He smiles at Turgon and then looks around for someone to direct him to a room.*

[Hirilaelin]

Hiri siped her ale and listened appreciatively to Astarielle. She was an excellent story teller, and her listeners were instantly hanging on to her every word.

Astarielle paused and sat down. Hiri leaned forward and whispered in her ear, "That was immpressive." She looked at the eagerly waiting crowd and whispered again, "You might want to continue, before they get violent."

Astarielle laughed softly. "All in good time! The rest will come, and they will wait however long it takes." From the look of the crowd, waiting for Astar's next words, she seemed to be correct.

[Frodess]

The elf laughed when they received their food. Champignonne glanced at him: he was almost as hungry as a hobbit. As the others crowded around the bar, he took what was left of the food and headed to a table in an obscure corner. Champignonne slowly followed him.

"Did you not want to hear the story?" she asked.

"No, I am tired of sadness, and all that comes with it." He smilled, and for a second, his eyes seemed to glow. "I am sure it is a good story though. If you want, you owe me nothing. Go on, I am not holding you back."

"Thank you, but I would much rather stay here." Champignonne was shocked that this answer had come from her lips. She did not want to admit that this particular elf intrigued her. He was so unlike what her mother had told her of elves, and he was from Rivendell, her destination. He interrupted her thoughts.

"So, Miss Champignonne," he said, a smile playing on his face. "You never did tell me why a young hobbit 'lass' like you was out in the dark of the night. Might I ask now?"

Champignonne blushed a deep crimson. She did not know this Tiquandel! She fervently wished someone would come to their table and interrupt this interrogation.

[Carrûn]

Nárello sat quietly in his corner. His sketch was almost complete and he looked over it. It was from a story Awyrgan had told him. His mind fought to remember the details as his hand worked its way across the paper. A lady with long blond hair stood defiantly in front of a winged beast with a great dark shape riding on it. The boy sighed as he considered the next pen strokes. He had pressed Awyrgan for more details of the creature but the nephew of Halbarad would say naught and so Nárello was left to his imagination for a better representation of the scene. Dark, cloaked, better make his eyes red like Awyrgan when he gets angry. Oh, right - all I have is charcole. He rummaged around in one of his pockets and managed to find a small pallete of red dust Awyrgan had given him as a gift one.

He put some finishing touches in; a man of great but now dimmed magisty lay beneath a struggling horse, many other men lay scattered accross the bottom of the page. The child smiled in satisfaction. I am good at this. Tracking is more fun but this is easier. He paused in his work to watch the general hussle and bustle of the Inn for a time. Some sat in groups telling stories, others held council and some seemed to prefer to take comfort in the presence of four walls and a fire; content to sit by themselves in silence.

Something was bugging him about his drawing though. It just doesn't seem complete. Summing up a bit of courage his rolled the paper up and, placing the quill inside his jacket, strode over to where the Innkeeper was in the midst of dealing with several customers. This time he managed to wait until she was finished before he spoke.

"Excuse me Ma'm..." She turned and looked at him kindly but firmly. "I'm not leaving until tomorrow morning," he said hurridly. He unrolled the parchment. "I was wondering if you could tell me what this is? I drew it." Her eyes widened slightly.

[ January 30, 2003: Message edited by: Carrûn ]

[Eruwen]

Rave saw that Rochelle had been looking around the inn as well as herself. When her eyes came upon the Ranger Rochelle seemed to be looking at, Laurie's words once again came back to mind.

"Excuse me," said Rave to her friend. "I shall return momentarily."

As she got up from the table, Rave made her way over to where the Ranger was sitting. When she approached the table, he looked up at her as if studying her thoughts.

"Pardon me," Rave said suddenly standing near him. "I am Ravenne of Rohan. My friend over there and I noticed you over here in the shadows, and we were wondering if you would mind joining us."

Rave watched his eyes and waited eagerly for a reply as he looked over at Rochelle.

[Rochelle]

She nodded and watched as Rave excused herself and wandered over to the man in the corner. She took the time to glance once more around the inn. There were several people who caught her attention.

One boy she noticed sat scribbling amidst his paper. She lifted slightly to see if she could catch a glance before he stood and moved over to the innkeeper. She sat brooding, wondering if she should check on her horse Quellë. No, she felt he was in capable hands at the stables. The need to be social was too great.

Quietly she waited for her friends return...perhaps the ranger, or anyone else would join them?

[piosenniel]

Pio gasped as she beheld the sketch. Drawing the Nárello aside, she sat down at a secluded table and spread the paper before her. ‘Come here, child, she said, ‘And listen to this story.’

She told him of the great battle at the end of the Third Age against Sauron, the Dark Lord. As she spoke, her hand flew over the empty pages of the drawing pad she had retrieved from behind the bar. It was a simplified version, much compressed, but in it were the stories of the Ring of Power, Sauron - the Dark Lord, Saruman, and the Nine companions who stood against the forces of Shadow and defeated them.

‘This drawing is of the battle at the Pellenor Fields, the greatest battle of the Third Age. The dark forces of Sauron were intent on the destruction of Minas Tirith. They had crossed the river, destroyed Osgiliath, and breached the Rammas, the great perimeter wall and outer defense of the city. They spilled into the Pelennor fields, the farmlands around the outer city walls, and had besieged Minas Tirith.

‘The armies of Minas Morgul beat down the great gate to the city, and the Lord of the Nazgul prepared to enter the city on his great black horse, where no enemy had ever passed before. Then did King Theoden of Rohan fall upon the Dark armies from behind and broke the siege. The Lord of the Nazgul left his position at the gate, but returned as Theoden rode victorious across the Pellenor Fields to return to the city.

‘A dark shadow dimmed the sun, then. Another band of Dark warriors opposed him and he rode against them. But Snowmane, his steed, reared up was felled by a poisoned black dart, and the King fell beneath him

‘The Lord of the Nazgul had returned upon his foul winged beast, and his mount fell upon the body of Snowmane, claws digging into the horse’s flesh.’

Pio pointed to the great winged beast of the boy’s drawing and the shadow creature upon his back. ‘Just so.’ she said, nodding at the sketch.

‘Two of Theoden’s knights still stood to defend their fallen King. This one, the lady with the golden hair was Eowyn, the niece of the King. She had dressed as a man to be able to fight in his service and now stood facing this great foe.’

Pio took up her charcoal and swiftly drew in a smaller figure, with a small sword clasped in one hand crawling toward the Nazgul whose attention was bent on the woman of Rohan.

‘This was Meriadoc Brandybuck, a Hobbit of Buckland, and one of the nine companions. He too was sworn to the service of the King. The Nazgul’s winged beast was killed by Eowyn, and the Black rider rose up in wrath against her and smote her down with his great mace. Then did Merry, summoning all his courage, smite a blow at him from behind, and pierced the sinew of his knee, undoing all that held the Black Rider together. His spirit departed with a great cry, never to be heard again in this world.’

She put her arm about the boy’s shoulder. ‘It was a great battle, the last of the War of the Ring. And at its end, Aragorn and his forces returned up the River Anduin and with the forces of Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth and those remaining of Rohan under Eomer, the last of the battle against the forces of Darkness and Shadow was fought and day won for Light.’

She sketched the face of Aragorn upon a clean piece of paper, dark haired, grey eyed, the image of a King of Old. And on his brow there shone the Star of Elendil . . .

'I never tire of the old stories.' she said, calling for a server to bring them some tea and a plate of jam tarts. She rolled up the sketches, and tied them with a ribbon from her hair. 'Here, these are yours. Share them with others as you will.' She poured a cup of tea for him and pushed the pot of honey toward him.

Sipping at her own mug, she drew a small sketch on a scrap of paper. Another dark haired man, his hair shot through with silver grey. Grey eyed, smiling . . .

[ January 30, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Envinyatar]

Their backs were turned to him as he approached with quiet steps. She was bent over a piece of paper on the table before her, and her sure quick hand kept time to the rhythm of her voice as she sketched and talked quietly to the boy beside her. He could see how the young boy focused on her drawings and how he often turned to watch her face, as the story spilled from her lips to the waiting paper.

Clear light from a window on the western wall fell softly on the curling cascades of her long black hair. It caught the fine ridge of her cheek, and the smooth plane of her brow as she turned briefly to regard the boy. Derufin’s breath caught in his throat at her grace and at the quiet dignity of her countenance.

[piosenniel]

‘You are as heavy footed as any Man.’ she said quietly, her back still to him. She turned slowly in her chair, the burden of the twins making her movements cumbersome. ‘Come, sit with us. I was just filling in a memory for Nárello. He is proving to be quite the artist.’

She unrolled the boy’s drawing, securing the corners with honey pot and mug and plate at three of the corners, as her own hand held down the fourth. ‘A good rendering, is it not, Derufin?’

[Envinyatar]

His fingers traced the fallen men, strewn on the field about the King.

‘Devorin, it was, who captained the troops sent to aid Gondor in this war. Three hundred men from Ringló Vale were under his command. They came east, to Minas Tirith, to stand with their allies against the foes of Men. Farmers and fishermen, hunters and traders. Husbands and fathers and sons.’

‘They stood and fought on the Pellenor, and many of them fell. But Devorin rallied them, and they retreated to the defense of the city. And when Aragorn called for the troops to advance across the river to the Morannon, they added their small strength to the knights from Dol Amroth, following Prince Imrahil. They stood with them as the hosts of Mordor issued from the Black Gate and Orcs streamed down from the hills to the sides of the rampart, surrounding the two great hills round which Aragorn had ringed his troops.’

‘The fighting was fierce and bloody; the din of battle and the screams of the dying and injured overpowering. More of them fell, as did Devorin. Until only five remained, and none of them unscathed by weapons of the enemy.’

‘They made their way home, once the fighting was done, and Aragorn was assured his Kingship. To the outskirts of Ethring, they returned. Only to find their own homes burned, their families slain. A roving band of Orcs had swept through this area, destroying land, life, and dwelling as they passed under cover of darkness.’

Derufin’s voice faltered and grew quiet. ‘Three of them stayed, to rebuild their lives there. The two others left, one to the arms of the wide sea, and the other to a life of rootless wandering.’

He rolled the boy’s drawing up, and placed it in his outstretched hand, catching his gaze with darkened grey eyes. ‘And that is their small story, young Master. Though I have no skill to draw the picture of it for you.’

[Falathion]

"Me shall speak with yer in the mornin of this quest" Turgon said to Jesse as he went for the bar. "Sleep well, and may yer dreams be filled with gold and glimmer."

Turgon sat for a moment all by himself, twinning his thumb, tapping his foot at the floor, looking around in the room. Noticing all the people who actually had made it into this room. He grinned. Elves, and more elves. Then his smile lightened as he caught the glimps of a dwarf. Hobbits were all over, and men was here as well.

Truly a nice place for listening to tales, and telling tales of old. He knew some stories that would get his attention. Turgon chuckled silently. The killing of the dragon and the invissible hobbit. Sure that was a tale commonly told in the Blue Mountains. He giggled and rested his position, waiting for any interaction.

Everyone seemed to be caught in their own matters.

[ February 04, 2003: Message edited by: Falathion ]

[Grimbold]

Grimbold rose to his feet, standing well over six feet tall.

"I thank you, Lady of Rohan--would you and your friend perhaps prefer to join me here in the corner? I believe there is a considerable draft in the room. I would merely ensure your comfort and that of your friend, lady."

Grimbold raised his arm, gesturing courteously for Rochelle to join them.

[ January 31, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Carrûn]

Nárello sat in fascination as the Innkeeper filled in the missing links in the story for him. He watched as she drew a small figure, hobbit-like, onto his paper. Of course, the Halfling, he chided himself for not remembering.

She drew the man called Aragorn on a seperate sheet of paper. The boy looked at the noble image with grave respect. Like Awyrgan, only maginfied many times over. And bathed, he thought. Coming back to the present he accepted the refreshments gladly. He noticed the elf working on her own sketch out of the corner of his eye but decided it was best not to stare. One thing was clear - the hand of the Innkeeper made his own work feel like a rough carving.

A man made his way to them out of the shadows and Nárello grinned. Awyrgan could have taught him how to be a bit more quiet. Of course, he mine as well have stamped if he was trying to creep up on an Elf. He listened as the man looked at the boy's drawing and told his own tale, as if the images brought the memories back to life. When the man was finished he reached out and the man returned his drawing.

He turned back to face the Innkeeper but he spoke to both of them. "Thank you for filling in the gaps, Awyrgan would never speak much of such events and my drawings have seldom been complete."

[Rochelle]

Her wandering eyes had once more turned to where Rave stood near the Ranger. He soon motioned for her to join them and she obliged. Standing from her seat, she slowly made her way through the people before standing beside both Rave and the man.

"A Ranger...I must admit I'm rather surprised at your invitation. I was told you prefer solitude over company." She smiled, her voice had a teasing tone to it, yet her comment was firm.

"My name is Rochelle, daughter of Lauromae from the house of Moonstone in Mirkwood. Though, my birthplace was in Rohan." Eyes glanced him over before she spoke again "and what shall we call you?"

[Himaran]

Bali had waited patiently, but now his patience was near its end. The innkeeper was dealing with other customers and, (in Bali's point of view), had wasted a good amount of important time talking to a little boy about a picture.

But finally the elf got his key, and turned toward Bali. A look came upon his face; joy, at seeing a long-lost friend. "Bali!"

[ February 01, 2003: Message edited by: Himaran ]

[Grimbold]

He helped the two women to their seats and ordered some wine and brandy from the innkeep. He removed the hood which had shaded his face.

"Ladies, tonight I can have some rest," he said. "I am Grimbold, son of Brangold. You clearly know the difference between a farmer and a Ranger. Perhaps your people have had dealings or made contact with my kin in the past. In any case, I serve the free people of this world. What drives you to travel, ladies? Do you have interests abroad which you are seeking?"

[Rochelle]

She settled at the table and nodded "I have had dealings with rangers of the north before. Many times they made their presence in Mirkwood. I now wander aimlessly amidst middle-earth seeking whatever help I can be. Many call me a ranger in itself, though that title is seldom granted to a woman." She smiled with a slight laugh, "and I am not a solitary creature."

She paused "What brings you to the shire? Are you in turn an aimles wanderer, or do you have a purpose?"

[ January 31, 2003: Message edited by: Rochelle ]

[ January 31, 2003: Message edited by: Rochelle ]

[Legolas'_girl]

Melcirial finished the last of her drink and looked for the wizard to thank him once again for the drink. Also, her keen elf-ears didn't miss a thing when Jesse and the one called Turgon talk to the other young man about a quest. Their discussion was interesting and sounded very exciting. Leaving fear behind, she slowly approached the wizard and asked the question burning in her mind.

"Might I join you on your, er, quest? I am in truth no fighter but, I am a bit of a healer and as a descendent of the High Elves of old, I have a bit of foresight and know some magic."

Her clear blue eyes gazed deep into the wizard's, trying to read his thoughts. But, Jesse's mind was much more complicated than most people's and the picture was muddled and distorted. Silently she awaited the answer.

[ February 01, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Frodess]

"I was supposed to leave," said Champignonne.

"Leave where?" he asked. He leaned a bit over the table to study her face more clearly.

"I don't know. I really don't know." She sighed. The shy hobbit was sick of being shy and ignored, and so she came out of herself. "Something took hold of me, I don't know what it was. Have you ever felt that way, like you can't live until you leave?"

"If you can believe it, I have," he said seriously. He sighed. "Many times. That is part of the reason why I left Rivendell."

"May I ask what the other part was?" Champignonne asked boldly.

"I guess you have as much a right as anyone, the way I scared you." At this, he grinned and chugged down some water to clear his throat. "Well, my father knew a certain lady of the Took lineage. And he sent me here to convey her daughter to Rivendell."

"A Took!" she cried. "Sir, do you know this lady's name?"

"No, I don't really remember it, but the daughter, her name started with a 'C', as a matter of fact, I think she had your name! Is it a very common name?"

"No! I am the only one in the whole of the Shire who has this name! Sir, I am sure your father meant me!" With this piece of information, she sat there, aghast, with such a mix of emotions that she could hardly contain herself.

[Elladan Peredhil]

Rirrym slips in through the door and looks around, blinking a few times as his eyes adjust to the light.

He removes the hood of his thick, woolen cloak, revealing a bushy head of blonde, shoulder-length hair falling messily over his face. He brushes it away irritatedly and moves to a corner of the room, pulling up an empty stool and banging his knee against the low table.

Swearing under his breath, he rubs his knee and takes another look around at the other people sitting and talking idly. He sighs, wishing for a split second that he had some company before remembering why he travels alone.

[ February 01, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Hirilaelin]

Hiri listened for a while to Astar's story before deciding to wander around the inn a bit more. Looking around, she saw that a man had just entered and sat down. Well, he looked friendly enough....

Slipping out of her seat at the bar, she walked to his table, threading her way through the evening crowd. Stopping in front of his table, she introduced herself, "Hello, my name is Hirilaelin, and I myself am newly arrived to this place. Who may you be?"

[piosenniel]

The table’s leg scraped slightly on the wooden floor. Pio frowned, stopping in mid sip, and turned to regard the tousle headed male in the thick woolen cloak who sat rubbing his knee. She could hear him mutter a few well chosen imprecations at the offending piece of furniture. She caught his eye as he glanced her way, and raised her eyebrows at him.

‘Elanor!’ she called to the serving lass. ‘Go and ask what that gentleman there, with the blond hair and the scowl on his face would like to drink.’ She stopped the girl as she stepped toward the guest. ‘And tell him it’s on the house . . . er . . . table, that is.’ She winked at the bushy haired fellow, and turned back to her own mug of tea.

Nárello still stood near her, leaning his torso against her left arm. He watched her as she picked up the charcoal and put the finishing touches to a quick sketch of Derufin, sitting to the right of her. Satisfied, she pushed the picture toward the man for his approval.

‘We should tack it on the wall. The first in a series of Green Dragon Rogues!’ she said, as he perused it, protesting that it made him look too serious, and far too handsome. ‘You have a good face, Derufin. There are some lovely angles and planes in it.’ She looked at him, taking stock of what she saw. ‘But behind the pleasing exterior run deeper sorrows, do they not?’ He did not look up at her, but kept his eyes studiously on the drawing, as if to memorize each line and shading.

The boy fidgeted, and pushed the picture she had done of Mithadan before her. He asked nothing, only moved the paper back and forth against the grain of the table as he watched her.

She smiled at him and shook her head. ‘Come now, when did shyness lock your tongue? Or have your good manners surfaced?’ A line of dull crimson burned along his cheeks, and he chewed the inside of his lip. His hand withdrew from the small sketch, to clasp his other behind his back.

Pio pulled near a stool and bade the child sit by her on it. ‘Would you like to hear the story of this picture?’ he nodded his head yes, and leaned on the table with both elbows, his chin nesting in the palms of his upturned hands. Derufin, too, raised his head to glance at the sketch of the dark haired, grey eyed man.

Her finger traced the line along the jaw, stopping as it reached the chin and lightly touched the smiling lips. The light from the lantern lamp glinted on the slim gold band that graced her index finger.

‘This is Mithadan,’ she began, ‘the third and youngest son of Galasmir, lord of the small port town of Lond Lefnui which lies in the Anfalas of Gondor.’ She turned to look at Nárello. ‘It is said that Galasmir and his sons are descended in direct line from Elros, son of Earendil, and thus are possessed of a degree of Elven blood. And I believe it to be so.’

She turned back to look at the picture. ‘He is tall, and fair of countenance, with hair the color of a raven’s wing. Black as midnight, it is, though now time finds it shot through with strands of silver. His eyes are grey, and clear, and a certain light shines from them at times.’ She nodded at both of them as they listened to her words. ‘It is true, you know, the ancient saying, that the line of Luthien and Beren shall never fail.’

‘When he was younger, he apprenticed as a mariner. And so skilled was he in this pursuit, that in time he was given the captaincy of a ship. We met once, or so he says, on one of his voyages bearing cargo from the Grey Havens. Secretive and aloof is how he recalls me, but I cannot remember him at all.’ Her brow furrowed, thinking on all her years of wandering, and the host of faces that were now lost to her.

‘What I do remember is meeting him in Minas Anor, in one of the dicey places that pass for Inns there, just outside the first tier of the city, along the river leading from the quay at Harlond.’ She laughed outright as the image came to her. Her boon companion, Birdland, had been with her when they arranged with the Hobbit, Camelia Goodchild, and with Captain Mithadan to finance the ship, The Lonely Star as it came to be named, for a quest, of sorts.

‘It was more of a journey than I had bargained for. Than any of us had bargained for. We were set a task that we had to see to its end. And the path to that end was perilous, and deadly at times.’ Her voice dropped low thinking of the cries of the injured and dying in the battles she had fought, thinking of death . . . her own death.

‘Yet, reach that end, we did. And there were many joys along the way, not the least of which was the firm bond of friendship forged among us companions – Man and Elf, Shapechanger and Hobbit, and even one rude and nasty-tempered dragon.’

She reached for a sheet of blank paper and drew a single masted sailing ship, bearing the banner of Mithadan’s ancestor, Eärendil. In the crow’s nest at the top of the mast, sat a smug looking Wyrm, whom she called Angara.

‘We came to love each other, Mithadan and I. And that was a daunting challenge in itself. I was too used to my independence.’ She smiled and shook her head at her foolishness. ‘I am sure that many of these silvered strands that lie among the black were of my doing.’

‘But we have gone beyond that now. We joined our courses and were wed. And now await the birth of our children.’ She put her hand on the great swell of her belly, cradling them. ‘They are twins. A girl and a boy. The will be born soon, in a month and a half, on Midyear’s Day.’

She looked up, her eyes seeming to see something before her, and smiled. ‘Mithadan rides from Gondor. He will be here soon.’

[ February 01, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Envinyatar]

‘May I?’ He reached out his hand and placed it firmly against her. There was a vigorous thump against his palm. ‘The girl.’ she said, moving his hand then to the opposite side. A flutter of taps thrilled against his open hand. ‘Her brother.’ he said, grinning. He closed his eyes, and focused on the new lives waiting to be meet the world.

‘Keep them safe, Mistress Pio.’ he said quietly to her, drawing back his hand. He leaned forward and raised his mug of tea to her.

‘Let them be safe from shadow, and free from sorrows. For a little while, at least.’

[Elladan Peredhil]

Rirrym looked up at Hiri, a brief smile appearing on his lips. “I am Rirrym, although most who know me simply call me Rym. I, too, am a stranger to these parts, but that is probably evident too from my clumsiness earlier,” he says as the beginnings of a blush flush his cheeks bright red.

Just then Elanor appears asking what he’d like to drink. “I’ve heard the ale is good here – I think I’ll have some of that, if I may.” Elanor nods and disappears towards the bar.

“Ah, but here I am talking to a lady and not even offering her a seat, my mother would turn in her grave if she saw me now.” He gets up and pulls another stool over to the table. “Would you like to sit for a while? Perhaps we could swap stories.”

Elanor reappears with his drink. As he fumbles with his coin purse, Elanor informs him that the drink was on the house, ‘Pio’s orders.’ As Elanor says the last words, she gestures to Piosenniel. His gaze follows the gesture, and as Elanor turns to leave, he timidly reaches out a hand to stop her. “Here, if my drink is to be free, at least let me give you a tip…” He hands her a shiny copper coin.

He catches Pio’s eye and smiles in thanks, making a mental note to repay the favour sometime soon.

[Jesse]

*The wizard, upon hearing Melcirial asking to join his quest looked towards her and walked to her. His green robes were now dark, for the sun had set. Jesse grabbed his staff and looked at Melcirial directly in the eyes.

"Melcirial, this quest will be very dangerous. For I am planning to go back to my homeland, Rohan. I hear my people are in the midst of a civil war. The reason I am going back is because I need some questions answered. Also, the boy I asked to join me and Turgon is probably going to be my apprentice. Turgon however, may or may not join us. Even if he doesn't I am leaving come Monday afternoon," the wizard explained as he watched Melcirial. Melcirial looked a little shocked, but then she turned her face to a smile.

"I am pleased that you will accompany me. It means alot to me. Thank you Melcirial. Now if you do not mind, I am going to retire," the wizard said as he scratched his beard. Jesse then walked to the counter and again asked for a room. Seeing that no one ws around to direct him to a room, the old wizard walked up the stairs and disappeared from view.*

[Carrûn]

Nárello in silence, shuffling his feet back and forth. He glanced at the picture of the man and his fingers self-conciously traced it. Before he could draw them away the quick eyes of the elf had caught his movements.

‘Come now, when did shyness lock your tongue? Or have your good manners surfaced?’

The boy suddenly felt small. Very small, like a hobbit child. A rather uncommon shade of red came to his cheeks and he began to discover what the skin on the inside of his mouth tasted like. Not great, he decided. There was no way he could refuse when she offered to tell him the story, so he simply rested himself upon the table and listened to the tale of Mithadan.

Nárello grinned at the elf's description of her once-firery streak of independence. He had seen at least one of her knives and made a bet to himself that she was at least as good if not better with them then Awyrgan. The tale of the grey-eyed man nearly made him change his mind about leaving, at least for a while, but he brushed it off. I have made my decision.

[Durelin]

Durwen sat in silence, her hood up again hiding her face. She continued to examine the inn. Was this a good place to find followers? Or a good place to strike? Would she find more followers? There wasn't much to persuade them. There was power, well, the possibility of power.

She had to find those who had lost it when He had fallen for the last time. She had the few followers she already had looking for more, but she hadn't heard from them in a while. And they are pitiful! An absolute pitiful excuse for men!

She needed some more of her own people. Only one Elf had joined her, and she had known him in the days of power. He was reliable and smart. And sneaky. She almost wished he was with her, but she had gotten used to being alone. She would wait and watch as she always did.

[ February 01, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Eruwen]

Rave sat quietly as she watched the ranger and Laurie converse. They looked to be enjoying themselves quite a bit. She listened as they told about their backgrounds and adventures, but Rave seemed to want to find someone else to talk to. She had to face the facts. Her family were never going to be found, and the use of asking this ranger was hopeless.

As she scanned the room secretly in not to seem like she was bored with the company she was with, which she was not, Rave noticed a stranger searching the room. He seemed to be looking for someone, but it was as if he didn't know who.

Rave stood up not saying a word to anyone around her and walked over towards the stranger. "Hello," she said to him as she approached. "May I join you? You looked to be needing some company."

[ February 02, 2003: Message edited by: Eruwen ]

[piosenniel]

Pio turned her head toward Nárello, as if she had heard his thought. 'Indeed, you have made your decision, little Master. Only remember to bring me pictures of your travels as you pass through. Or send word as you can.'

She regarded him closely, her grey eyes searching his. 'I will keep you in my mind as you go along your paths.' Her hand reached out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind his ear, and she smiled at him fondly.

Raising her mug to Derufin, she thanked him for his words, saying that he was not to worry. She meant to keep her children safe.

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

Pio excused herself from the the boy and man, saying she had some business to attend to. She walked through the kitchen and out the back door to the stables. It was a pleasant day, and she intended to take ‘Falmar out for a long ride. To exercise the horse and to clear her own mind.

‘Falmaer nickered softly and nodded her grey head up and down as the Elf approached. Pio spoke to her softly and led her from the stall. Her eyes caught a movement in the stall nearby. Peeking over the door, she saw Laurie’s horse, Nell, keeping carefully to one side of the stall. There, sitting in the hay, her back against the wall, was the woman, herself. She seemed distracted, lost in thought. Pio scratched the area between Nell’s ears and called softly to Laurie.

‘I am going for a ride. Would you care to accompany me?’

Laurie looked up, shielding her eyes against the light which backlit the Elf, throwing the features of her face into shadow.

‘If you do, I shall await you in the stable yard.’

Pio led ‘Falmar to the yard, near the fenced in excercise ring for the other horses. She clambered up to the top rail, feeling quite ungainly in her balance. ‘Steady on, girl!’ she admonished the horse as well as herself. ‘Falmar drew near, and let the Elf make her ungraceful mount.

‘This may well be the last time I ride you. If I get any larger it will take a siege ladder to get me astride you again!’ ‘Falmar whickered softly at this comment, as if chuckling. Pio patted the horse’s neck, and sat waiting for Laurie to appear.

[ February 01, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Grimbold]

"Rangers never wander aimlessly. As always, we have a distinct purpose to our movements, although the people of the land attribute piracy and murder to my kind from time to time. I keep my ears and eyes open, for signs of the acts of evil beings. Sadly, our numbers have dwindled, and thus our work is greatly diminished. However, we still have some strength: these lands would be overrun by a nameless foe if it was not for our eternal vigilance."

Grimbold was startled to see the woman called Rave suddenly leave the table.

"I can see that she is restless. What disturbs her? She seems to be in the midst of a great torment. Is there anything I could do or say to relieve her distress?"

[Envinyatar]

Durefin drank the last of his now tepid tea. He left the boy to his sketching, and wandered out to the front portico to the inn. Leaning his elbows against the upper porch rail, he let his eyes wander about the yard, sizing up the day. ‘I suppose I should do something to earn my keep to day.’ He had no inclination to leave the area as yet, and what funds he had were running low.

A sudden breeze gusted, and he noted that there were a few loose shingles on the roof of the stable that needed tacking down. ‘There’s something I can set my hand to.’ He stood up straight, stretching the kinks from his back muscles and walked toward the stable, his eyes alert for a ladder of some sorts.

[Rochelle]

She too noticed the quick departure of her new aquaintence. She shrugs "Not that she has made aware to me...something wroughts her mind."

She returned her attention back to the ranger. Her hand wound securly over the hilt of her dagger. "So tell me ranger, what brings you to the shire?"

[Frodess]

The odd couple awoke, in their own respective chambers, and went to break their fasts, finding each other in the dining area of the Green Dragon. Of course, Champignonne had awaken later than her elf acquantance, but before he could even finish his meal, she had already downed hers.

"When do we leave?" asked the hobbit girl.

"Leave? Now? What would cause you to ask?"

"I don't know. . .I just assumed, I don't know what I assumed."

"Soon, but you should not be so anxious to leave your homeland. I think I will have a conversation with some of these strangers. I will see if they need some help before we leave. To be honest, I am not in a hurry to return home."

[Orual]

Rie brushed her her out of her green eyes. She watched the boy for a moment longer, then turned her attention to the rest of the Green Dragon.

As she looked around, she realized how much of a home this Inn had become for her. She knew the people, she knew the layout of the place almost as well as she knew the layout of her own house. She glanced at Don, still over with the children, and smiled. She had Don here, too. Her little sister. Nuru was over there, and there was Piosenniel--how long until the babies came, Rie found herself thinking, for Pio seemed quite ready to have them--and all of the other regulars with whom Rie had grown familiar. She nodded. Yes, this was quite a place. Quite a home.

She fixed up a quick breakfast, for herself and for Don. Since the girl still seemed busy Rie just slipped it over to her, and sat down on the floor by the fireplace, looking around for some company.

[ February 02, 2003: Message edited by: Orual ]

[Elladan Peredhil]

Rirrym takes a sip of his ale and wipes away the foamy mustache left as he looks up at Rave. He gives her what he hopes is a warm smile. People seemed friendly here, and having been wandering the countryside for the past couple of months with only his horse for company, he’d come to appreciate the possibility of having another person to speak to. He just hoped he wouldn’t sound too desperate.

“I’d love some company, if you’re willing to give it,” he says with a slight lilt to his voice. He gets up and pulls up another chair for Rave, waiting until she sits down before carefully alighting back on the stool he’d claimed earlier. “I’m Rirrym, Rym for short. May I ask your name?”

[theWhiteLady]

For a very long while Laurie sat against the wall, whether lost in thought or in dream she could not tell. And how much longer she would have sat, memories flew through her mind taking form as a song taking shape. Time had ceased to exist for her; as in a dream, Laurie walked once more through the green fields of her homeland and wandered the lonely roads of Middle-earth. The land suddenly changed, a roar filled her ears, and Laurie saw through the vision a vast grey body of water, ever changing and moving. A slight spray hit her face and stung her cheeks, the cold air whipped her white dress behind as she stood, looking out to the distant horizon, searching. Searching. She knew not for what.

"I am going for a ride. Would you care to accompany me?"

A soft voice pulled Laurie back; she tried to hold onto the dream, but the harder she tried, the faster it fell away. Laurie looked up, dazed by the bright sunlight and what she had just seen.

"If you do, I shall await you in the stable yard."

Pio searched the young girl's face carefully before leading her own horse into the yard. Laurie sat, her limbs leaden and head heavy. It was as though the effects of some powerful drug were just wearing off, making reality and dream hard to seperate. Slowly, she got to her feet, and realized that Nell had woken and was sniffing her curiously. The sight of her horse gave Laurie the strength she needed; she kissed the soft, brown nose and pulled on a halter. For some reason, she did not want to fool with the heavy saddle and going bareback simply felt right. A wooden box provided a handy stool, and Laurie mounted. As Nell walked out of the barn, the fresh air and comfort being on a horse always brought to Laurie revived her and she was able to smile when she spotted Pio waiting patiently at the other end of the yard.

"Thank you for waiting for me, Pio. Where is it you would like to ride?"

[ February 01, 2003: Message edited by: theWhiteLady ]

[Everdawn]

Umbria nodded, "Elewanda, yes, i remember a small girl who was named Elewanda once, she was very fair, one might have thought her an elf-child" Umbria sat deep in thought.

"And i do remember the day when one man came to the gates and killed a guard, he was with a small boy, I was riding out of the city, but I was stopped and told I was to go no further by my liege in fear for my safety. That boy, you say was you."

She smiled a little "yes.. it was you, i saw you when i was lead to my place of living... though I was not told of the full extent of the events of that day... continue, please..."

[piosenniel]

Pio tapped her heels against ‘Falmar’s sides, and led the way out of the inn’s yard. The reins were light in her hands, as she headed for the eastward path along the Water. ‘I am bound for the home of a good friend of mine, Amaranthas Bolger. She lives just a few miles up the road that heads north from the Water to Oatbarton. I will have need of a midwife in just a month’s time, and she will know who can best serve me.’ They talked pleasantly, of small matters, then, as their mounts bore them along, and watched the changing scenery.

Less than a mile from the inn, and they had left the small congestion of Bywater and were well into the low rolling hills of the East Farthing countryside. The conversation lapsed into a comfortable silence as they made their way through the sea of high grasses. The wind rippled through the fields, the heads of the grasses undulating with it, like waves on a bright green sea.

‘Falmar stopped, her head held high, and shook her neck and head vigorously. Her grey mane flew wildly in the wind. Pio could feel the tension of the great horse’s muscles coiled beneath her. She wanted to run through the grass, cleaving it like a great ship through the cresting waves. Eat up the miles and leave them far behind her.

The Elf inched forward on the withers and bent down to whisper to the horse. Her hands wound tightly in ‘Falmar’s mane, and she gave a wide smile to the girl beside her. ‘Keep up, as you can.’ she said, as ‘Falmar surged forward and was brought to a halt. ‘The wind is with us, and we wish to run.’

She leaned as close to the horse as her babied girth would allow. Her mind reached out to catch the feeling of abandon as ‘Falmar leapt to meet the rolling green waves. They flew, and the wind of their passing was like a great sigh through the fields. The tall grasses parted for a brief moment, bowing down before them; then closed behind, as if undisturbed, once again . . .

[ February 02, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Schmendrick]

”Well, my mother still dwells in Dol Amroth…although she has changed much and hardly ever leaves her father’s house.” Durmán said with a sigh.
“ But all this I told you is only the beginning of the story. After these events, my father started acting very strange. I didn’t understand what was going on, for I was only a boy, but now I believe his mind was shattering already then. He very soon found himself a new companion – much too soon. She was a daughter of the rangers, fair and courageous, Almera was her name. I was happy to have her around and for a while everything seemed to be fine. They had a boy, Endel, who I came to love like my own brother.”

Here Durmán paused a long time. He seemed reluctant to continue now. He hadn’t spoken of these things to anyone, and although they were always somewhere in the back of his mind, he was afraid of letting them out, he was afraid of the power of those memories. Finally he spoke again, now slowly, pausing from time to time.


“ But my father…something was terribly wrong with him. I could see it ever more clearly when I grew older. He was very moody, sometimes he left us for days and when he came back, he looked old and weary. Once I followed him. He rode as close to Dol Amroth as he dared and just sat there on his horse, watching the distant city, for hours and hours. I knew he hadn’t forgotten about my mother. He also started treating Almera badly. He had never been very kind to her, but now he started calling her names…I tried to defend her, but I was still young and he wouldn’t listen to me. This went on for a long time.


Then one day, I wanted to go for a ride, for I needed some time alone, away from all this. I remember that day clearly, it was a beautiful autumn day, the sky was so blue it almost hurt the eyes and everything was so quiet…” for a while Durmán looked lost in thoughts. “ I had planned to stay away the whole day or maybe more, but I hadn’t got far, when I had a strange feeling that something bad had happened. I returned immediately, fearing that orcs or some wild men would have attacked my family. But when I came back, I found only my father there, although I hardly recognized him.
I could see the madness had finally taken over him. He sat on the ground with a knife in his hand and didn’t even seem to recognize me. Almera and Endel could not be seen anywhere.

I tried to question him, but he gave me no reasonable answer, only laughed and cursed them.” Durmán shivered. “ I thought he had killed them. But there were no signs of a struggle, so I left to search for them, in case they hid somewhere nearby. But all I could find was Endel’s necklace. It was hanging on the brache of a tree, near the place where we used to play, when he was small. Then I knew they were alive. They had escaped.

I wished to follow them, but couldn’t leave my father alone in the wild, in the state he was. So I returned and promised myself to take care of him and leave only when he was better again. But he never got better. For two long years I took care of him and got not as much as one grateful word.”
Durmán paused again. He tried a smile, but it died on his lips and never reached his eyes. “ So from that day on I have been looking for Endel. And Almera, too, of course. But they are nowhere to be found.”

[ February 02, 2003: Message edited by: Schmendrick ]

[ February 02, 2003: Message edited by: Schmendrick ]

[Grimbold]

"The Shire. This hidden land is home to a very little people, and their safety depends on the secrecy of their realm. Rumour of new movements in the south have unsettled me. I came hence to listen, and to watch, and to receive new messages.

"The world is changing, and those who are active may have a hand in the changing, for better or for worse. I like to think my duties may one day make some betterment for the people of this world, when the clouds of war have been spent and disappear. Now, much is obscured.

"Lady, your unease is also quite palpable. What is the matter?"

[Hirilaelin]

Hiri sat down and said to Rym, "Thank you. And do not mind your earlier clumsyness. I am also not the most graceful of people." Rym chuckled, and said, "Some ale? It is most excellent."

Hirilaelin shook her small head. "Nay, I have already had much of the superb ale." She gestured to Astar, entertaining a growng group of guests. "My friend is telling a tale, but I decided to try out the company of some other people."

"Is mine satasfactory?" the man questioned with a smile playing about his lips. Hiri laughed. "Oh yes, quite."

Just then, another stranger walked up. A lady, Hiri had seen her when she had first entered the inn, but had not spoken to her. She introduced herself, "Hello," she said to him as she approached. "May I join you? You looked to be needing some company." Rym replied to her, “I’d love some company, if you’re willing to give it,” he says with a slight lilt to his voice. He gets up and pulls up another chair for Rave, waiting until she sits down before carefully alighting back on the stool he’d claimed earlier. “I’m Rirrym, Rym for short. May I ask your name?”

Hiri also waited for the lady's answer, watching the two much taller people.

[Eruwen]

Rave smiled as she was greeted warmly by the stranger. "I am Ravenne, a maiden of Rohan. Most people call me Rave." she said sitting down with her new company.

"I hope that I am not intruding on anything here. I was just hoping to meet some new people and it looked as if you were in need of maybe some more company."

As she introduced herself fully to Rym, Rave looked over her shoulder at Rochelle and the Ranger. They seemed to have questioned her disappearance, but were conversing once again as normal.

She turned back to Rym and continued their conversation. "Oh, um, I didn't get your name miss..." Rave said as she addressed the Hobbit lass sitting next to him.

[astarielle]

Astarielle looked around the group and could see that they were growing inpatient. Hiri had wondered of but she decided to continue anyway. She also decuded that she might go and join Hiri at the end of her tale, though a take has no end.

The enemy were close but not close enough...

"...Darkness was looming. Even the my horse Talhandir, one of the bravest horses ever known, was beginning to get frightened. Others were rearing, their handlers desperately holding on. The enemy were now in reach, they were elves! But not ordinary elves, elves corrupted by darkness. I thought that elves could not be corrupted as easily as men. This surprised us, a new breed of warriors for the dark side."

"We were undecided what to do but they readyied there lances and drew their swords. We had no option. we had to fight our own kin."

"We drew our bows adn shot volleys of arrows into the enemy, but some kind of force field protected them that arrows alone could not penetrate. The enemy was upon us...."

Gasps were heard around the inn. All eyes were stareing in annticipation at the elf who was telling the story. She looked around, a grin upon her face. She continued,

"Even sword wrought with elven magic all but glanced off the force field like stones on ice. Something far worse was protecting these elves, these dark elves."

"My folk were dieing unable to fight their killers hand to hand. I withdrew from the front line in search of my friend and powerful mage (wizard) Teclis. I had to shout to be heard, "This is no use, it is folly to continue, we cannot win, nor can we run. We need to teleport away, we need your help." Teclis although a mage, rarely used his powers but I managed to persuade him. He replied, "Yes Astarielle, gather all those you can who know the spell of Urithair, the teleportation spell and bring them to me."

"I cantered to all those I knew knew the spell, being careful to leave enough to keep the dark elves at bay.We gathered in the centre of the fight, a huddle was formed. Using our minds jointly we were able to summon Urithair. A bright light flashed over the battle field, penetrating the darkness. All the elves not consumed by the dark were transported away, us 6 of 35."

"I believe that battle was a test of the darkside's new forces. They will come again, and next time we won't be able to get away..."

A stunned silence fell over the group, a little voice piped up, "Is it true?" Astarielle placed her hand on the boy's head and knelt down, "Of course its' true, elves never lie, but do not worry we will find a way to defeat them, I promise."

[Rochelle]

She smiles and shakes her head "No unease, except that of being in a new place. You are right, the world is changing, it has been forever changing. Though I'm not so sure that the shire is an unknown mark in Middle-Earth any longer."

She nods "However I am in the same place as you are. I come to seek whatever help I can be. I have been trained in many arts and my horse is strong."

She smiles and the mention of Quellë. Her thoughts momentarily drifted back to her home in Mirkwood. For the first time her heart ached to be back among her brothers and father. She erased her mind, she had chosen to leave. It had been her decision and no one elses.

"I feel I may grow restless without adventure."

[The Ruling Ring]

Drago came into the bar, sitting down quickly by the door, pushing his worn brown cloak back from his face, allowing the dim light of the room to invade his features. He cared not. It had been a long time since he had come to the Green Dragon, indeed, been to this side of Bywater. He was hoping for a warm welcome, or perhaps none at all. He only for no hostility.

Not that he particularly deserved any. He couldn't help the fact that he and his friends had gotten lost so far away, in the Wilderlands, couldn't help that they'd all left each other one way or another down the road. He couldn't help that he was alone now. He did not wish to go back and see his mother across the Brandywine. He did not wish to hear her shrilling laments, her scoldings about how he shouldn't have gone off as he did. But he wanted someone to talk to. His stubby halfling fingers braided nervously as his eyes roved the room.

[ February 02, 2003: Message edited by: The Ruling Ring ]

[Lyra Greenleaf]

A small figure walked slowly towards the inn of the Green Dragon. A few paces from the door she stopped warily, gazing at the lights in the windows and listening to the noises with a face that changed between happiness and sadness. 'It’ll be fine' she said aloud to herself comfortingly. 'Just be brave, smile and push open the door…'

The door to the inn swung open and banged shut. The young hobbit-lass entered like a whirlwind, her cheeks bright red. In the light you could see she her brown curly hair, characteristic of Hobbits, and light grey eyes. Gazing quickly round she spotted a hobbit sitting alone by the door, wearing a brown cloak. Turning to him with a smile she sat down opposite.

"Hi. I'm Laurella." she said with a smile. "I'm so grateful to see you on your own. Well, no, I don't mean that. I mean I'm glad I don't have to sit on my own. I'm Laurella Took. No wait, I said that. I talk far too much you know! What's your name? I've never been to Bywater before. Do you live round here? Ooh, I'm famished! Are you going to have anything to eat?" Finally she subsided and grinned at her companion, who had a slightly dazed look on his face. It was an effect she often had. Suddenly her earlier worry returned to her face. "I'll go away if you want me to" she said, a question in her glance.

[ February 02, 2003: Message edited by: Lyra Greenleaf ]

[theWhiteLady]

Nell walked quietly as Laurie admired the countryside through which she was passing. The wind whispered through the trees and a bright bluebird lit upon a branch hanging over the path, singing merrily as they passed underneath. The breeze was slightly cold, but the sun was warm; Laurie shook her hair back and closed her eyes with a smile, the sun shining through the trees seemed dappled against her eyelids. Nell stopped at a clearing and Laurie, upon opening her eyes, saw a bright green field, the path winding through grass long enough to brush Laurie's toes. The wind made the grass ripple and sway, bringing back the dream or vision Laurie had seen earlier. Pio turned back with a grin.

"Keep up, as you can," and her horse sprang away like an arrow from the string. Nell pranced, eager to be off as well, her ears pricked forward, and her head tossed proudly. Laurie leaned forward slightly, gripping tighter with her knees and picking up more rein. "Let's go!" Laurie whispered and Nell bounded forward with a playful buck, her long legs stretching forward to catch up with Pio. With her golden hair streaming out behind her, Laurie grasped Nell's dark mane and held on for dear life. Nell was used to being out in the field all day, and it felt good to finally stretch full out after being cooped up in the stables. Laurie's eyes watered as they mounted a large hill and the wind whistled in her ears when they descended down once more. Up another, even steeper, hill and Laurie finally brought Nell back to a walk at the top. Pio was waiting for them; as fast as Nell was, she was no match for the Elvish steed. Pointing down, away to the left of the path, at a grey plume of smoke in the distance, Pio spoke:

"There lies the home of Ms. Bolger."

[The Ruling Ring]

"No, no," Drago said, regaining his voice, marveling silently at his good fortune in finding a dinner companion. "It's nice to meet you, Laurella Took. I'm Drago Hedgeworth," he faltered, stumbling over the ideas in his head. "I was thinking to order some food, as a matter of fact," he paused, looking across the bar, then back at Laurella. "It's been a while since I've been to Bywater. I used to live around these parts. And what about you?"

He ran his hand through his long, dark brown hair, damp from travel. Every ounce of him felt damp. And weary...but hungry, too.

[Envinyatar]

He scratched his head in consternation. It had been here just a few days ago, now where had it got off to? Derufin poked about in the stables, and finding no sign of the missing ladder, went over to the workbench just inside the stable entrance. ‘Might as well gather the hammer and roof nails I’ll need.’ he said to a curious horse, whose head stuck over the door of its stall. The horse nodded his head, as if in agreement, and followed the progress of the man at the workbench.

The tools were all sorted and each hung on the wall above and to the side of the table in easy reaching distance. Nails were sorted by weight into small kegs which sat beneath the bench. He took the number of nails he thought he might need, securing them in the pocket of a small leather workman’s apron. He put the apron round his hips and looping the ties back around to the front, knotted them well. The hammer he needed, he could not find. An irritating start to what was to have been a simple project!

The summer’s day warming up. He rolled his tunic sleeves above his elbows, in preparation for climbing to the roof which now took the full heat of the sun. ‘But first, the ladder and then hammer.’ he muttered.

Derufin walked back into the inn, his sight dimmed from the bright sun. He stood looking about for someone who might know where the much needed equipment had gone.

That woman, there, with the red hair, he thought. He’d seen her since he first arrived at the Dragon. Surely she might know other places where the ladder and the hammer might be found. He walked to where she sat by the fireplace, grinning in his most charming manner.

‘A moment of your time, if you would, miss.’

[ February 02, 2003: Message edited by: Envinyatar ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami Goodchild hitched up her skirts above her knees and climbed up the ladder. A placard was tucked under one arm, and a hammar and nails slipped under her sash.

It had been a while since she'd last been to the Green Dragon. Other duties in the Shire had kept her very busy. But tonight she had a special reason to be here. She took her sign and set it up above the bar for all the visitors to the Inn to see. One or two folk glanced upward and quickly scanned the message:

Please see the new thread entitled "Help us plant new seeds in the Shire".

We are looking for folk who would like to share their ideas about possible new plots for RPGs. Take a look and let us know what you think!

[Jesse]

*Jesse rises from a long fifteen hour rest and then heads downstairs. He scans the room for any sign of Melcirial or Turgon. The wizard lets out a sigh and then walks down the stairs. Just then, the Green Dragon Inn doors burst wide open and two Orcs appear. One of them looks around the room and shouts:

"We are looking for the wizard called Jesse. Could someone show us to where he is located?" the Orc says as he looks around the room. Meanwhile, the wizard sits hiding next to the railing. Jesse's staff glows brightly. He then looks at the Melcirial and motions for her to come to him. He does the same to Turgon. Then the Orcs begin looking for the wizard. The whole GDI grows silent....*

[The Flame Of Anor]

Silently, slowly, Stryker, the brown cloaked boy stalked the smaller Orc. He approached the rear most enemy; he drew his longest knife, a small handled elvish blade, with a blade not longer than 12 inches. He reached forwards, up several feet towards the Orc’s neck.

Stryker was no lover of Orcs, but was yet to slay any foe. Not eager to spill blood in the Inn without very good cause, and not knowing the Orcs true intentions, he placed the blade point lightly on the back of the Orc’s neck. The orc stood taller, but knowing his peril, did not turn around, nor draw blade. Stryker waited for the orc to react, or another to respond.

[ February 02, 2003: Message edited by: The Flame Of Anor ]

[Orual]

Rie ate her breakfast quietly, observing the goings-on at the Inn. She frowned a little and drew her knees up under her chin. This lack of company was beginning to bother her. From her first night at the Green Dragon there was hardly a still moment, and she had grown used to the endless activity and excitement that she had experienced. She was almost done with breakfast and on the very verge of getting up and shouting "Doesn't anybody want to talk with me?" when a man walked up to her.

"A moment of your time, if you would, miss," he said, with a bright smile. Relieved that she'd been saved from making a fool of herself, Rie stood up.

"My time is at your service, sir," she said politely, "though I don't believe we've been introduced. I am called Rie. What may I call you, and how can I help you?"

[Jesse]

*The Orc who was stabbed let out a loud screech. His partner drew his sword and began running towards the Elf. He let out a loud growl and then began turning up tables in the Inn. The Orc also smashed chairs as he walked past. Suddenly, Jesse jumps down and lands in front of the Orc. His staff is glowing. The wizard pointed his staff at the Orc.

"Your king will not have me! Go back to your homeland. You will not cause anymore disruption here!" the wizard yelled as the Orc raised his sword. The wizard's staff shot out a ray of green light and hit the Orc in the chest. Thus, the Orc was thrown backwards and landed on a table, which soon broke. It was unconscious. Jesse then turned to Stryker and said:

"Thanks my friend. See, I upset the Orc king by giving advice to his son. Orcs don't like wizards much. They dispise them and are extremely racist towards them. Stryker, I am leaving Monday afternoon on a quest. You seem to have good combat skills. Would you care to join me?"*

[The Flame Of Anor]

Stryker sheathed his blade. "Faeg i-varv dîn na lanc a nu ranc (Their armour is weak at the neck and beneath the arm.), he said. "One thing my father did teach me about fighting." He walked over to where the wizard was standing. Jesse's staff faded until it lookes harmless once again.

Stryker said that indead he would join Jesse, as his buessness in the area was now finished. He was glad Jesse had not yet left. "I returned to you at an interesting time, it seems. I am not armed to go on a long journey, however." he said. Realising the stupidity of the comment he bent and picked up the Orc's long blade. While obviously too heavy for the man of only 16 years, Stryker straped it next to his two shorter knives. He sat at the bar and ordered a water.

[Hirilaelin]

Hiri stood, and curtsied prettily. "Hirilaelin, my lady, though my friends know me as Hiri."

Gracefully the tall lady bowed her head. "Pleased to meet you, though I am no lady. Call me Rave please."

Hiri sat. "I am also pleased to meet you Rave. Would you care for a drink? The ale here is superb, something that Rym," she nodded towards the man, "can also attest to."

[Beruthiel]

An elf strode up the path leading a brown horse towards the Green Dragon. She was clad in a travel stained cloak which was dark green and tattered, yet as she walked flashes of a white garment could be seen underneath. Most of her face was hidden under her hood except for her grey eyes which glistened in the moonlight.

She looked up at the inn and smiled, it seemed homely and comfy, which was exactly what she needed. Her name was Culwen of Lothlorien, though she had not been there for many years. She was a traveller and never stayed in one place for too long.

Pushing the door open gently, she stepped in and removed her hood and her long, red hair cascaded down to her waist. She grinned at all the faces and couldn't wait to meet some of the people in this place. She then sat down at a table by the window and waited.

[ February 04, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

The two riders went slowly down the hill. It was not a great distance to Amaranthas' house, but there was much to tell Laurie about the venerable Hobbit. Laurie's eye's grew wider and wider as Pio spoke. And when the Elf mentioned that one of the nicknames for her was the Old Dragon, Laurie blanched.

They had reached the house, and Laurie dismounted first to hold 'Falmar as Pio clambered off. A few steps along a clean swept stone walkway brought them to a freshly painted green door. To each side of the entrance were stone planters with a riot of red, yellow, and orange blooms spilling over the sides. Pio tapped twice on the door, then stepped back to await its opening. Laurie had come up behind her, and stood hesitantly peeking round the Elf.


‘WHAT WOOLY PATED HOBBIT IS DISTURBING MY AFTERNOON TEA! TOLMAN BYWATER, IF THAT’S YOU AGAIN PLAYING TRICKS ON AN OLD LADY, I’LL HAVE YOUR HIDE FOR IT!’

The door cracked open the barest of inches. One baleful, bright black eye peered out at them. Pio stepped up close to the door. ‘It is Piosenniel, my dear Amaranthas. I have come to ask your advice on something. And I have brought a friend.’

The door swung open slowly, and the tiniest Hobbit Laurie had ever seen came forward, leaning on her silver handled hawthorn stick. She had been no more than three feet tall in her prime, and now age had bent her spine, making her even smaller. Her face was as wrinkled as a wizened winter’s apple with cheeks stained red, and her eyes were still keen and took in all. Dressed in her usual black, widow’s weeds with a white starched cap securely covering her thinning grey curls, she looked the Elf up and down taking her measure.

‘Those babies are getting bigger by the minute, Miz Pio!’ She looked over to where ‘Falmar was grazing on the greensward. ‘Tell me you didn’t ride the horse here today! Are you trying to bring them out early, you little fool.’

Laurie could not stifle a giggle at this comment. Who was this tiny Hobbit to call Pio a little fool! She heard the loud crack as Amaranthas tapped her cane hard on the stone porch.

‘COME OUT YOU SHYBOOTS! I’M NOT DEAF. I HEARD THAT SILLY GIGGLING!’

She tapped her stick firmly on the stone again. ‘Come out here, girl. No need to hide behind Miz Pio. Let me see you.’

[ February 03, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Elladan Peredhil]

Rym chuckled. "Aye, 'tis very nice ale served here.. Better than I've tasted in a long while." As if to prove his point, he downed the last of the ale in one last gulp and moved the mug to the edge of the table.

"I'm pleased to meet both of you. After travelling for so long, it is a relief to have someone who will answer you when you talk to them, rather than give the odd 'neigh'."

"Where do you come from, if you don't mind me asking?" asked Rave.

"Not at all. I travel here from Gondor. Times have been tough for my family, so I was given a mare and my father's pipe before being told to make my way in the world on my own. I've been travelling around Middle Earth ever since then just waiting to see where I'll end up. But here I am talking about myself and probably boring you both, for I'm sure you have both heard or live similar tales."

"The Green Dragon does seem to attact many weary travellers from afar, but their tales are all different in their own way," Hiri answered.

Rym laughed heartily for a few moments before stopping abruptly, as if surprised to hear the sound coming from his mouth. "Aye, I guess you're right."

[Mithadan]

In the wilds of Enedwaith, a lone horseman rode along the remains of the Old South Road. One more day's riding, perhaps two, and he would reach Tharbad and the crossing of Greyflood, at which point his journey would be more than two thirds over.

He rode over a plain covered with tall grasses and low shrubs at a fair clip. Even now, after the King had returned, there were yet rumours of bandits in these lands and not far to the east lay Dunland, whose people had no great love of Gondor despite the peace treaty that had been signed some years ago.

He felt a tickle in his mind which resolved itself into a familiar touch. "Piosenniel," he murmered under his breath, and he reined his horse in to a slow trot. Then he concentrated and strained to hear the not-voice from miles away.

Where are you now? We miss you greatly. I fear you will not recognize me when you see me. Your son and daughter grow apace, and I sail slowly through the hours like some great merchant ship laden with treasures. Were you to place me side by side with the Star, I think I might overshadow her! She is a trim vessel, and I am not these days. She placed an image in his mind of a great lumbering vessel coming into port. Then he felt a faint kiss brushing his brow. Ride hard, beloved. I would see you soon.

He laughed at the image of they great ship and smiled at the faint kiss. He attempted to respond but found that he could not concentrate well enough on horseback. He almost stopped there, on the faint track which would soon become a roadway leading north and west. But he took note of the smoke of a cooking fire not far off to his left and rode a few hours more before finding a forest where he might spend the evening undetected. After quickly making camp, he sat with his back to an oak tree and cleared his mind.

Dearest, I come as quickly as I may. Yet though I do not wish to, at least my steed must rest from time to time. Tharbad is not far off. From there it is perhaps ten days to the Shire, or so I am told for I have never visited that land. Soon, beloved, soon. Then you may regale me with tales of the kicks which my children have delivered at inopportune times and your imaginings of Cami. Soon.

[ February 03, 2003: Message edited by: Mithadan ]

[Grimbold]

Grimbold fixed the woman with a piercing stare.

"My lady, adventure in this world is rarely unaccompanied by peril, hardship, and--most often--great sorrow. I do not seek adventure: the price of excitement in the wild lands of Middle-earth is commonly too high for the average traveller. Journey the lands if you will, my lady, but do not chase adventure, for soon enough, adventure will be chasing you, and you will wish you had never strayed from your home."

Grimbold seemed troubled.

"I am sorry, lady, but 'adventure' is bought with tears and blood. I do not know any wise man or maiden who would pursue it."

[Lyra Greenleaf]

"Drago Hedgeworth? Hello Drago. Very pleased to meet you. I'm Laurella- I already told you! But you can call me Ellie. So you used to live around here? Do you know Elisveta Brandybuck? She's my second cousin, she lives in..." Suddenly Laurella tailed off. 'Stupid girl' she said to herself, and cast around to change the subject.

"Your turn! What are you doing here? Why are you so wet? Don't you think you should change before you catch a cold? Actually, first lets see about that food..." Laurella jumped up from the table, and with relief began to look around for someone who could serve them.

[The Ruling Ring]

He watched Ellie in slight wonder as she spoke. She seemed somewhat self-conscious, but her eyes glittered when she talked, and Drago could tell that she was happy, where she was and what she was doing.

He opened his mouth to tell her that he didn't know the hobbit she mentioned. Then again, perhaps he did, only, he didn't remember them now. He'd left when he was just a boy.

He wondered how long Ellie would continue talking to him and being his friend. Whenever he got around to telling anyone about what he'd been up to, these past years, they inevitably gave him a worrisome glance, then moved on to the next person to talk to.

Drago closed his mouth nervously because of this, when she asked why he was so wet...but luckily, she was distracted with the prospect of dinner, which easily distracted him, as well, his empty stomach grumbling hollowly. Whatever he ordered, he wanted it to be hot. It had been ages since he'd had anything hot.

[Envinyatar]

"My time is at your service, sir," she said politely, "though I don't believe we've been introduced. I am called Rie. What may I call you, and how can I help you?"

A sudden shaft of sun glinted off her hair, blazing up to match the fire behind her. He stood bemused for a moment at the sight, then shook his head. The memory of another receded, and he focused his attention on the woman before him.

'Rie, you say. I'm Derufin. I have seen you much about the Inn since my arrival. Very pleased to finally meet you.' He bowed slightly to her and grinned. 'I was wondering if you might know where the ladder and hammer have gone? The wind is lifting a few shingles on the stable roof, and I thought I would secure them before Mistress Piosenniel returns. Wouldn't want her climbing up to do it.' He winked at Rie, and both smiled at the thought of the foolhardy Elf attempting to fix the roof in her condition.

'Any help you can offer would be appreciated.' He looked at her appraisingly. 'You look the sort not to be afraid of heights. Care to join me?'

[Carrûn]

Nárello scuffed his feet against the clean floor of the Inn. The Innkeeper had gone out for the day and he deemed it best that he leave before she returned. He went over the various items in his possession one last time to make sure everything was in place. Knife, food, pen, paper, water. Water! He took the empty skin, walked into the back of the kitchen and filled it as full as he deemed necessary for a lengthy trip but light enough that he could carry it without difficulty.

Sitting down he thought about his route. Not easy since I'm not sure where I'm going, he thought. He pulled out an old map that Awyrgan had given him and studied it for some time. Finally he decided it best to travel to Bree and from there the South Downs. He considered passing through the Old Forest on his way, having spent some time there while looking for rumors of strange men that Awyrgan had heard and had greatly enjoyed his time in a land that others seemed to dislike.

His mind made up he took out a clean sheet of paper and drew a small representation of a house in the upper left corner. Underneath he penned the letters GDI. He then rolled the sheet back up and placed it inside his vest. In doing so his hand brushed the jewel strung around his neck that the elf had given him. Enien. He mused over the strange name. Nárello will suite me better for my travels, he thought.

He walked into the Innkeeper's room to make one final check in case he left something. For some strange reason he felt compelled to leave one last sketch behind as a sort of goodbye-and-thank-you-and-I-hope-I'll-see-you-again note. His mind strayed to one of the few happier stories Awyrgan had told him, but even for the strange man the details had not been clear and the boy fumbled in his mind for a while before he began to draw.

When he finished two trees stood together. One glittered as if shining silver and small drops fell from its many leaves. The second was a yellow but no less beautiful. The boy was particularly proud of this as he had used a "trade secret" to make the yellow appear. He did his best to add a bit of a glow on the whole scene but it was quite a challenge. In the bottom corner he wrote his name in rudimentary Elvish. Something tells me she'll like this, he thought to himself and layed it on a desk next to the Innkeepers bed.

He gathered his supplies and made his way to the back door where his exit would be less noticed. Grinning to himself he completly ignored the door and scrambled out the nearest window, landing in a small garden with a thump. Re-shouldering his pack he made off down the road whistling. Softly he sang a small tune that he had caught Awyrgan murmering during one of their few travels together.

'The higher I climb, the further I fall,
The longer I tread, the longer I crawl.'

And so the small boy passed out of the haven that was the Shire and into the Wide World. Over the years he travelled far and wide but he would not be seen in settled lands for many long years. When he was he had become a tall, grim man like the one who had found him curled up in the log. But his hair was the color of the sands and his eyes shone in laughter more often then they flashed. His drawings would bring the past alive and for some give insight into the future. He traced his journies on the same page which he sketched the Inn on until both sides were covered in writing and he no longer had room nor the need for more travels.

[ February 03, 2003: Message edited by: Carrûn ]

[Orual]

"You look the sort not to be afraid of heights. Care to join me?"

Rie laughed. "Not afraid of heights indeed!" she said. "Though I might be better off if I was." She grinned at the memory of her near-disaster, and her close save. She saw Derufin looking at her, puzzled, and she laughed again. "A long story. Suffice to say that my last expedition into the heavens ended in a close scrape with serious injury. But never mind, I've not the sense to learn from my mistakes, and I'd love to help you. Because you're right, and I don't doubt that Pio would take it upon herself. With those miyât, those baby twins of hers, they'd probably decide it was their time as soon as she got up on the roof!" Rie chuckled. "Twins can be very contrary, you know," she said sagely. "Oh! The ladder and hammer. My apologies! I lost sight of my mission. Yes, I think I do know where they've gone. Follow me, I'll go get them."

Rie went into the kitchen. "There!" she said. Leaning in the corner--just where she'd left it last time--was the old ladder. "I'll get the hammer now," she said. "You can get the ladder. If I take too long, just start out for the stable, and I'll meet you out there. I hope I haven't been chattering too much!" Without waiting for an answer, Rie took off to find the hammer.

[Frodess]

"Look, there are two new hobbits, over there!" Tiquandel pointed in the direction of the bar where two hobbits were talking. "Surely you could speak to them! You seem as though you have not had much experience with society. Come, go over to them. I see an elf lady who just walked in. She seems in want of campany. I think I shall speak to her."

"Surely you know that those two are having a conversation, sir. I cannot possibly. . ." Champignonne was interrupted with a "Why of course you can! I bet they would find it most helpful if you 'show them the ropes', as they say in Lothlorien."

"I have hardly been here myself!" she cried, but it was too late; he was already headed in the direction of the red-haired lady. Champignonne looked around her, and amazingly found another block of cheese on their table. She took the block (which was almost too big for her to carry) and hefted it on the counter, sitting beside the other two hobbits. She ordered some more water, and looked in the direction of the two, giving them a friendly smile.

Meanwhile, the elf, Tiquandel, addressed the elven lady with, "Hello miss. Would you care to join me?"

[theWhiteLady]

Pio had done a good job describing the very interesting Amaranthas as they descended
down the hill to her home below. Laurie could not help but think the “Old Dragon” part was a bit much, however; surely no hobbit, laid back and good-natured as they generally were, could be so fierce! ...could they? The snug little home, surrounded and covered by brightly coloured blossoms, was quite reassuring until Pio’s knock on the door and the subsequent eruption from within made a pair of bluebirds singing in a tree near the door seek a more safe haven.

Even then, nothing could have prepared Laurie for the bristling creature, standing as tall as her tiny frame would allow, before her. She was torn between intimidation at the booming voice (it was amazing such sound could erupt from such a small body!) and amusement at the hobbit’s impertinence towards Pio. A loud crack from the hawthorn stick sent Laurie scampering behind the innkeeper, who was valiantly keeping down an amused smile.

'Come out here, girl. No need to hide behind Miz Pio. Let me see you.’Amaranthas added lower, if not softer.

Laurie stepped out carefully, half embarrassed at being frightened of the tiny creature, yet also making a low curtsy for good measure.

“Greetings and good day, Amaranthas.” Laurie kept her eyes carefully to the ground; her
father had always told her never to look wild animals or old, cranky women in the eyes, both were apt to be easily provoked. “I am known as Laurie, and my home is the land of Rohan to the south. Pio has been kind enough to allow me to stay at the Green Dragon for awhile.” She peeked up at the wrinkled face with its glittering black eyes analyzing her. She added hesitantly, “I hope you will not be angry with me, I did not mean any offense.”

Laurie waited with trepidation for the wizened hobbit’s reply.

[Envinyatar]

It was hard to be out of the way when one stood holding a ten foot ladder. Derufin pushed open the door and went out toward the stable. He found a small leather pouch and filled it with nails for Rie. And there, lying on the head of a barrel, was one of the hammers the farrier used when he shoed the horses.

He picked it up and hefted it in one hand. Heavier than a regular hammer, he swung it in a downward arc above the barrel’s head, feeling the pull of its weight as it raced to met the wooden surface. With a satisfying thunk it hit the head, leaving an impression. ‘Should take no time at all to drive the nails home.’ he thought as he secured it through the loop on the leather apron.

Derufin braced the ladder against the eaves and climbed up with a sure step to the roof. He stepped gingerly on to the shingles, leaning into the pitch of the roof for balance. A few quick steps and he was at the place he had seen the shingles blow upward in the wind. He knelt down, testing the shingles as he went along, and placed nails in those that were still sound. The others, brittle and cracked from weathering, he sailed off the roof with a practiced hand. He would cut more shingles in a little while, once he knew how many were needed.

He was well into the job, working methodically, when he heard the sound of someone climbing up the ladder . . .

[piosenniel]

‘So Miz Piosenniel has collected herself another stray, has she?!’

Amaranthas laughed , a dry dusty sound that wheezed out of her like a long, sustained note from an old squeeze box, the kind the tinker would play as he walked along to draw his customers’ attention. Pio stepped forth, a look of concern on her face, as the laugh seemed to roll out with no intake of breath to replenish it.

The laughed dissolved into a cough, and Amaranthas waved the Elf back, nodding to her that she was alright. ‘Come in! Come in.’ wheezed the old Hobbit, pointing the way to the parlour. Pio led the way, having visited before, followed by Laurie, while Amaranthas shut the door securely.

‘That’s a good girl. Your mother did a good job of raising you!’ Amaranthas had come to the table and sat herself down as Pio busied herself brewing a fresh pot of tea, and rooting through the cupboards for two more cups. Cups in hand, she nosed through several more cupboards before asking, ‘Now where is that seedcake you told me you always bake midweek? I am famished!’ Amaranthas chuckled and pointed out the bread drawer to the left of the stone sink with her hawthorn cane.

Laurie had remained standing after the old Hobbit sat down. Amaranthas pushed out a chair from the table with her stick, and tapped on it, encouraging her to seat herself. ‘Laurie of the Mark, is it? Let me see your face, girl.’ She leaned forward and placed her fingers, light as the wing of a bird beneath the startled young woman’s chin. ‘I don’t bite,’ she said, ‘despite what you might have heard.’ Pio coughed once and kept her eyes on the loaf of seed cake she was slicing.

‘You’re a pretty thing, aren’t you? Sturdy like one of those fine horses from the Westfold, too. Fine boned, and spirited.’ Her dark eyes held the gaze of the girl, and a look of recognition passed over her features, and she smiled, wrinkling her face all the more. ‘A little fey, if I might add.’ she said, turning to Pio to affirm her assessment.

Pio, piling the thin slices on a small plate, hesitated for a moment, then turned to where the Hobbit and the young woman sat. Her eyebrows arched at Laurie, in anticipation of her answer. ‘Perhaps we had best let Laurie tell us whether you have hit the mark, Amaranthas.’

Plate in one hand and a pot of gooseberry jam in the other, Pio plunked herself down at the table, and poured the steaming tea for all of them. She passed round the seedcake and jam, and the pot of honey to sweeten the tea. Piling a generous spoonful of jam on the slice of cake in her hand, she raised it to her mouth.

‘Go ahead, Laurie.’ she encouraged, just prior to taking a bite, ‘Tell Amaranthas about her “fey” remark. She is rarely wrong, you know. Or so I have come to find out.’ She chewed thoughtfully on the cake for a few moments. ‘Of course, there is always a first time, is there not?’

[Beruthiel]

Hello miss. Would you care to join me?
Another elf asked Culwen politely. "Oh yes, thank you!" She pulled out the chair and sat down, her fiery hair glinting in the light. She ordered a drink and smiled at the elf. She had seen a halfling with him earlier on but it seemed that she had gone somewhere else. Her drink arrived and she drank deeply.

"Dear me, I'm forgetting my manners. My name is Culwen and I am originally from Lothlorien." She said.

[Himaran]

Eruantalon then caught site of Bali, greeting an elf (presumably the one he had been looking for). Being waved over by Bali, he walked over to them.

"Erulon, meet Burzdul, a good friend of mine from Gondor. He is only a half-elf, you know." Eruantalon shook the elve's hand warmly. "I know you not, but a friend of this fine dwarf is a friend of mine. But you are from Gondor, you say. Might you know my father?"

Chatting about family relations and things of that sort, they made their way over to the bar and ordered fresh drinks. Then they found a table near the back of the inn, where they knew they wouldn't be disturbed.

"And so, Burdul," said Bali. "What brings you to this fine inn in the middle of the shire, far away from your people?" Burdul's face turned grave...

[ February 04, 2003: Message edited by: Himaran ]

[Falathion]

Turgin giggled. "Orcs in the Shire?" He laughed out loud and chuckled brightly. "Them rangers is sleeping the days off ye? And how did they come all the way to this inn without starting a screaming perill in the streets!"

"Bah!" Turgon then added. "And yer didn't even spare one for me axe to cleave!"
He walked down the stairs and over to Jesse. "And what is this talk of kings wantin yer old butt? He should know better then sending two dumb orcs capturing a wizard. Low of intelligence this king must be, and a ruler over such a land not known to humans nor elves, dwarves or hobbits. This bring me laughing matter to a merry point me haven't had in years."

Turgon started to laugh again looking around at the two slain orcs. Indeed the stupidity of orcs couldn't be questioned, walking into a whitie town like the Shire was truly a walk of suicide. Not to talk of all the perills on the road west from where they once had been bredd.

Turgon smiled merrily, his beard was jumping up and down in motion with his chuckles. Hillarious!

[Lyra Greenleaf]

Ellie caught a glimpse of a Hobbit sitting alone with..."Cheese!" she exclaimed delightedly. The other young Hobbit heard and looked amused. Ellie ran over to her.

"Hello, I'm Laurella Took. You don't want to sit alone do you? What's your name? How are you? Where are you from? And most importantly, can we share your cheese? Any by the way, call me Ellie"

Turning around, she noticed Drago looked a little uncomfortable at her forthright way of getting food. Waving to him to come over, she settled herself comfortably at the table and waited for her questions to be answered.

[ February 04, 2003: Message edited by: Lyra Greenleaf ]

[The Ruling Ring]

Drago got slowly up from the table, watching Ellie in amazement. He supposed it had been too long since he'd been around normal people, or hobbits, for that matter.

He walked over to the table as Ellie beckoned to him, smiling feebly at the other hobbit as he sat down across from them, next to Ellie.

"I'm Drago," he said softly, after Ellie had finished. "Drago Hedgeworth. It's nice to meet you."

[Jesse]

*Jesse looks to Turgon and laughs. The old wizard's chuckles quickly turn into coughs. Jesse's long white beard has thickened over the past few days. The wizard looks worried.

"Turgon, as funny as it maybe, I fear that the Orcs were assassins. My situation has become far too complicated. I fear that by nightfall, this whole place will be surrounded with dragons and Urak-Hai. I am sorry to say I must leave immediately. For the safety of all the residents of the Shire and of the Green Dragon Inn. If you are to come with me, it must be now. The same goes with that boy," the wizard said as he gathered his things into a bag. Indeed, Jesse knew he shouldnt've come to the Shire. Never did he think that the King would go so far as to send assassins out to kill him. It had become clear to the wizard that he already knew too much. Indeed, the Wizard's situation was very complicated. He needed answers and fast. His life depeneded on it....*

[ February 04, 2003: Message edited by: Jesse ]

[Eruwen]

Rave nodded at the remark from Hiri.

"Yes, I have indeed met many interesting folk since I arrived in the inn." Rave said. "Just yesterday I was here talking with a maiden of Rohan, and today I seemed to meet another. There are so many strange people here it's almost unbelievable."

Rave looked around the room. "Dwarves, Elves, Men," she looking over at Hiri. "and of course many young Hobbits as well. Tell me, Hiri, what is it like living in such a beautiful place as the Shire? Ever since I came upon this land, it has never ceased to thrill and amaze me."

[Hirilaelin]

"The Shire," mused Hirilaelin. "It is indeed a wonderful place, from what I have seen. You see," she explained, "I do not know much of it yet, as I am only just arrived here from Bree with my family."

"But yes," she continued, "it is a lovely place. And," she grinned at the two other people at the table, "the people are very friendly."

[theWhiteLady]

Amaranthas’ home was as snug and cozy as the outside led one to believe. The cupboards were well stocked with all kinds of goodies, as Laurie soon found out, and she greatly enjoyed the warm tea Pio had been kind enough to pour for her.

Laurie’s eyebrows raised slightly when Amaranthas pronounced her “fey” and at
Pio’s bidding, she tried to form a reply to the old hobbit’s portrayal. She reached for
a seedcake dripping with sweet jam and chewed thoughtfully before speaking.

“I have certainly never thought of myself in those terms, but I suppose it could be applied… I have often been scolded for being too impetuous, and leaving my home so sudden has been called foolish by many. But fey…” Laurie’s voice trailed off as she sat, brow furrowed in thought and her normally sparkling blue eyes were concentrated within. After a moment she looked up again, her blue eyes seeming more placid and she spoke with a small smile.

“At any rate, you did miss the mark earlier. My mother did not raise me, she died at my birth. I was raised by my father and brothers. There was never a dull moment
in our home,” she added with a reminiscent laugh and raised her cup to sip the warm tea. “No,” Laurie added, serious once more. “I do not think I have yet become fey, though perhaps you see something in me that I cannot, or some event that has not yet come to pass, as wise old women are sometimes wont to do.” Laurie contemplated the wrinkled face with its biting black eyes, now was now able to see a softness underneath that she had previously missed.

[Frodess]

"Mae gavonnen, Culwen," Tiquandel said with a smile on his face. "Lothlorien? Ah, you have a beautiful Queen." This he said solemnly and with great respect. "I have long wanted to travel there. But I am hardly on topic. I come from Rivendel, and my name is Tiquandel. Oh, would you like anything?" He gestured to the rest of the food (which was not much because the hobbit had eaten most of it). "I am sorry there is not much, but my dinner companion is of an insatiable appetite." At this he smiled and gestured over to the table of hobbits. "And if you like cheese, I am afraid you will have no hope in finding it here, for I believe the hobbits have taken the last block.

"But, if I may ask," (placing the food before her)"what brings you hither from thither?"
-----------------------------------------
Meanwhile, Champignonne could not help but smile at how easily she gained friends by possessing cheese.
I think I'm getting the hang of this, she thought.

"You have many questions!" she said to Laurella Took. "To answer the most important, I would be delighted if you and your companion" (noddiing toward the approaching hobbit) "would share in my new-found wealth of cheese! I too am of the Took lineage, I am Champignonne, and I am from a small neighborhood in Hobbiton. I am very well, I thank you. I am relieved that you came over to me, for my friend over there" (pointing to the elf, Tiquandel) "seems to have abandoned me." With this, she smiled good-humoredly.

"And you, sir," (turning to the other hobbit) "May I ask your name?"

[Orual]

"I've got the hammer!" Rie called, already halfway up the ladder. She got onto the roof, and stopped. "Oh, I guess you found one. Must be for the horse-shoes. Oh well, I don't have a horse, so I've only been in here once. Now we have two!"

Derufin handed her a leather pouch filled with nails, and she took it and began working. She'd repaired the roof for her mother's smithy before, so she was a veteran at this sort of thing. "If you're to work in my shop with me, you'll know how to do everything to keep a smithy in working order," her mother would always insist. "And leaving a roof with shingles missing isn't working toward a good smithy."

The midday sun beat down on Rie's dark hair, and it began slipping out of the loose ponytail that she had tied it back in. Impatiently she knelt and tied it back again. As she shook her head to make sure it was tight enough, she threw herself off balance and nearly fell off of the roof. She gave a little shout and flailed her arms wildly, trying to regain her balance, but it only served to throw her off more. Luckily Derufin caught her arm and pulled her back on just in time. "Thanks!" she said, catching her breath. She flushed in embarrassment. "Ah, sorry about that. This is the second time. Perhaps I ought to learn something from this?" Rie thought for a moment. "But either way, I won't, likely. Let's keep on this roof." She turned her face back to her work to keep from meeting Derufin's eyes. How embarrassing! Twice this happened. At least she hadn't really fallen...

[piosenniel]

Pio shrugged as Amaranthas glanced her way. If the girl did not care to share she had some Elven blood in her, then it was naught but her business. Still, she looked at Laurie with hooded eyes, recalling the impression she had received just prior to asking the girl to accompany her on a ride.

The air in the stable had reeked of the sea. The smell of it so strong that it sent the Elf’s senses reeling. And she remembered the waves which crashed against the Pelóri, the waves which had come westward, from far off. Even stronger was the want, the need which drove these thoughts. She looked now at Laurie, the seed cake in her hand, a guileless picture. Perhaps she did not know.

The Hobbit opened her mouth to ask another question, but Pio redirected her with a question of her own. ‘Amaranthas,’ she said, offering her the plate of sliced cake, ‘I need to ask you for a favor. Can you direct me to someone you would trust as a midwife?’ She put her hand on her belly for emphasis. ‘The twins will be born on Loënde, Mid Year’s Day, just a little over a month away. I need to find someone who can be there with me.’

Amaranthas looked at her questioningly. ‘I don’t know much about Elves, but I’ve been through my share of Hobbit births. How do you know they will be born that day exactly? Aren’t these your first? They could come at any time. And twins! That could prove difficult.’ She sat thinking on poor Marigold Brandybuck who lost one of the twins she had carried and never did get over the loss.

‘It will be Loënde, because the twins and I have agreed on it.’ Laurie and Amaranthas exchanged glances at this information. ‘And as to difficulty in the birth itself, Elven women are different in this respect, we carry our children differently and their births are fairly effortless. I expect some discomfort but nothing as I have heard told of Men’s births.’

‘Is that so?’ said the Hobbit, her black eyes glittering with barely concealed mirth. ‘Discomfort! Now that is an interesting word, indeed. Sort of pretties things up, doesn’t it?’ She looked Laurie and winked.

Pio kept an even expression on her face and looked back at the two as they turned to her, eyebrows raised. ‘More tea?’ she said, pouring herself another mugful. It was true her store of knowledge on this subject was extremely limited, having avoided involvement in helping with any births throughout her long years. Still, she assumed she would get through it much as she had any event in her life. She would simply take charge and see it done the way she intended.

As if she had read the Elf’s thoughts, Amaranthas shook her head, kindly holding her tongue on the subject. Instead she gave careful consideration to Pio’s request, and after a few moments produced a name she thought would fit the bill.

‘Rose Cotton Gamgee.’ she said with some finality. ‘That’s who it will be. I’ll speak to her myself on the morrow.’

Satisfied at her choice, Amaranthas turned to Laurie, watching her as she picked at the crumbs on her plate. Her hands were graceful in their movements, like small birds fluttering over the seeds scattered on a winter’s snow.

‘Tell me of your mother, child.’ she asked her gently. ‘She must have been a lovely woman to have had a daughter of such grace and beauty.’

[ February 04, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Rochelle]

She smiled with a shake of her head "Not all adventure ends with despair my good ranger. I seek not that of bloodshed or heroism...just something that'll cause a stir." She grinned with a slight laugh "A fortnight's passed since I camped near Rivendell...such a lovely place it is. Have you been witness to a horse race ranger? 'Tis a sight to behold...now that is an adventure. Quellë was quite up to the task."

Her eyes averted and she stood "I must excuse myself momentarily. It was truly pleasant sharing conversation with you. If fate tempts then I pray to see you again" She smiled and with that she left the table.

She headed to the stables, summoning the boy to bring her her horse. Effortlessly she mounted with neither saddle nor bridle and started down the cobbled road. Something bade her to travel south and in a hurry.

[Envinyatar]

They worked in companionable silence, broken only by the thunk of their hammers as the nails were driven in, and the soft scrape of their boot soles as they moved along the rows of rough wooden shingles. An afternoon breeze had come up, the fine sheen of sweat on their arms and face now drying in the cooler air.

Derufin sat back on his heels for a moment to watch her. She moved with an assured grace which belied the near tumble of a while ago. Her hand grasped the hammer with an easy grip, and he watched the play of her muscles beneath the taut skin of her forearm, as she raised the hammer in an upward arc, letting it come down effortlessly to meet the nail.

He thought of his own Maerie as he watched her move. Her red hair picked up the bright sun and blazed darkly as banked embers, stirred up by a breeze. She glanced up at him, smiling, and her eyes were green. He shook his head to clear the image from his mind.

Maerie’s eyes had been brown, and flecked with gold.

‘Where are you from, Rie?’ he asked, breaking his reverie. His eyes now on the shingle before him, he picked up the rhythm of the nailing once again.

[Lyra Greenleaf]

"You are a Took?" asked Ellie delightedly "Then we are cousins!" She smiled. "We are all cousins! Which branch of the family do you come from? Have you ever been to the Smials? I have never seen you there before. I am the great-great-great Granddaughter of the Bullroarer, second cousin of the Thain! You lived in Hobbiton, you say? Do you know Aunt Mirabella?"

Ellie began to tuck into the cheese eagerly, turning her head enquiringly to Champignonne. Suddenly she remembered Drago, who was sitting looking uncomfortable still. "Drago, eat!" she said. "You must, for you are hungry- I can tell." She laughed turning back to Champignonne. "You may think me rude for giving away your cheese, but indeed the poor lad is cold, hungry and wet-through. I wish that I could show him true hospitality at the Smials...". Ellie tailed off, looking embarassed. To cover her confusion she laughed again.

"Now I do not mind who will tell me their tale first, but please one of you must- to keep me from talking. Mama always said..." Once again, she stopped and hurriedly took a huge bite of cheese. In her haste she took too much, and began to choke.

[The Ruling Ring]

"I am Drago Hedgeworth," he said softly, as Champignonne inquired.

He remained silent, looking at Ellie as she explained herself, talking excitedly about this new hobbit being a probable cousin. He blushed slightly, lowering his head bashfully as she spoke of hospitality at the Smials, then looked back up abruptly as he heard her cough. He patted Ellie smartly on the back, to dislodge the cheese.

"Are you alright?" he said.

[Grimbold]

SAVE for re-worked post

[ February 05, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Lyra Greenleaf]

Ellie was choking and spluttering, but Drago patted her on the back, and after a few seconds she began to breathe again.

"Are you alright?" he asked, concerned.
"Th...thank you!" stuttered Ellie.
Both the other Hobbits waited for a moment, for the flow of speech they had come to associate with her, but Ellie remained silent. The silence seemed to grow and grow...

[piosenniel]

~~~ NOTICE OF NEW RPG OPENING ~~~

~~~ SEARCH FOR THE LOST MESSENGER ~~~

Helkahothion invites you to play in his RPG.

Elven warriors from Lórien, Orcs, and Easterlings only, please!

***** Look for the discussion thread, opening soon *****

[ February 05, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Jesse]

*The wizard looked around for the human boy and the Elf. He knew they were here somewhere. I must leave as soon as possible; for the entire Green Dragon Inn is in danger, the wizard thought to himself. Jesse then walked outside, put his bag on his horse, then ran back inside the GDI. He suddenly yelled:

"There is an Elf and a human boy whom I've met who wish to accompany me. They must do so now. I am leaving no later than six 'o' clock. If I leave without them, they can meet up with me near Hobbiton." the wizard announced to the quiet audience of the Green Dragon Inn. Then the people went back to talking......*

[Legolas'_girl]

SAVED for reworked post

Please see your PM's.

[ February 05, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[theWhiteLady]

Laurie listened with some awe as Pio talked of her planned birth. There is no end to the wonderous ways of the Elven folk, she mused to herself. But for some reason, she felt that Pio would be right, the birth would be easy for her. It sometimes seemed the the race of Elves were more favoured than any other, but Laurie brought herself from those thoughts by remembering the many tales of pain and sorrow she had heard from the men of Dol Amroth. Whenever she visited the White City, Laurie would listen with wide eyes to stories of the Eldar Days. Stories that most in the world had forgotten or dismissed as legend. Amaranthas brought Laurie from her thoughts, speaking softly.

‘Tell me of your mother, child.’ she asked her gently. ‘She must have been a lovely woman to have had a daughter of such grace and beauty.’

With a small smile at the compliment, Laurie looked with studied eyes into the old hobbit’s face, wrinkled with both time and wisdom. Amaranthas sipped a little tea and Pio started on another seedcake as she began to speak.

“As I mentioned before, my mother died very soon after my birth, so I never really got to know her. In fact, I have no memories of her at all.” Laurie spoke in a matter of fact manner, but she kept her eyes carefully on the table before her. She picked at the edge of the tablecloth and threaded the checkered pattern between her fingers. “My mother’s death was very hard for my father to bear, even now he rarely speaks of her. Most of what I know about my mother I have learned from the men of my village, and even that is not much. She was not of Rohan, no one seems to know from whence she originally came. My father was already becoming old when he saw my mother ride through the fields upon a cloudy day. He used to say that a ray of sunlight danced through her golden hair, and her white dress glittered
like the diamonds of the sky. Not a word of her homeland or family did she speak, but he cared not, a spell was laid upon him that day and he knew she must be his. And she was.” Laurie ended simply, and looked up. “My mother bore three boys, each as wild as the last. Though she was strong, the births were hard for her and when she became pregnant with me, a bitter winter swept the country. After catching a lingering cough, she never recovered and my birth simply proved too much. Her spirit left this earth when I was but three days from the womb. However, before she died, my mother insisted that I be named Laurie. Laurie means joy in the Elvish tongue, of course, and it was her hope that I would bring joy to my family. But now I have left them to seek what I know not.”

Both Pio and Amaranthas had listened patiently without interruption to her story,
and Laurie realized with a blush that she had rambled on long enough.

[ February 05, 2003: Message edited by: theWhiteLady ]

[piosenniel]

Pio glanced up at the word laurië. The girl had finished speaking, and a slow blush was starting on her cheeks as she realized she had held them captive with her words for so long. ‘It means “golden”,’ the Elf said into the quiet.

‘Speak up, Miz Pio! These old ears can’t hear what you are saying. What’s that about gold?’ Amaranthas cupped her hand to her ear, waiting for Pio to explain.

‘Your name,’ she said, turning to Laurie, ‘it means golden. Were I to name you with your full name, your mother given name, I would call you Laurialassië, Golden Joy, for that is surely what she saw in you.’ Pio’s grey eyes darkened as she considered the young woman. ‘She has no idea!’ she thought to herself. Her eyes met those of Amaranthas, and she could see the old Hobbit was thinking along the same lines.

Amaranthas patted the girl on the arm, assuring her how interesting she found her story to be. ‘Did your father have no keepsakes of hers that he handed down to you?’ she asked. ‘Surely a Mother would leave something special for her only daughter.’

[ February 05, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[astarielle]

Astarielle smiled, she believed her story had gone down well. A constant humm was buzzing around the inn. Astarielle felt at home, if she ever could. She wondered over to the table at which Hirilaelin sat with two others whom she had never met.

"Can I get you and your friends, Hiri, a drink?" Astarielle asked in a chirpy tone.

[Durelin]

There are so many fair-folk here. Good. But there is a wizard! Ah, but one more powerful than him turned before...but the ranger, he could be a problem...

Durwen was still in her dark thoughts. She was searching for people seeking power...that were lusting for it...even if they did not know it. And how would they get this power? She believed, when she gained enough followers to rebuild a land of Darkness, where she would rule.

She had turned long ago, and she still seeks power. Seeking for power in the darkness only made her lust for it the more. Would she ever be satisfied? She thought so, when she no longer had the restraints of her "pathetic" body...it was too human for her. She watches and waits at so many places, but it is she, alone. She does not know it, but the few followers she had gained were dead, she was alone...the end is soon to come...she knows it, but she cannot accept any thought of an end. But still it comes.

[ February 06, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[theWhiteLady]

Laurialassië,” Laurie murmured under her breath. The beautiful Elven word sounded
strange on her foreign tongue, but a great warmth spread through her when she repeated
the name. ‘The name my mother gave me,’ Laurie shivered slightly. Any remnant, the least detail, of her mother’s life fascinated Laurie and she had long cherished the name her mother had bestowed upon her. And to hear it in the true Elvish form was quite an experience. ‘Which means... my mother was familiar with the Elvish tongue,’ Laurie realized with a start. Outside her thoughts, Amaranthas patted her arm kindly.

“Did your father have no keepsakes of hers that he handed down to you?” she asked. “Surely a Mother would leave something special for her only daughter.”

A short laugh escaped the young girl’s lips before she answered. “I can think of no better gift than the name she gave me.”

The old hobbit’s black eyes nearly disappeared under the many wrinkles as she laughed. Pio smiled and stood to clear the table of the empty cups and plates.

“There is one thing she left, however.” The clatter of plates being set into the stone sink paused as Pio looked back over her shoulder.

“My mother did not wear much jewelry; when she rode out of the West, she only bore
such things as were necessary for the journey. Her long, golden locks were held by a delicate hair clasp, however, and as far as I can tell, it is the only evidence of her former life. I have it here,” and from the folds of her white dress, Laurie brought forth a thin clasp. It seemed to shimmer in the light, the iridescent surface glimmered and danced.

“It is made of some kind of shell, I think. I prefer to leave my own hair loose, and am
frankly too frightened to wear it out of fear that is should fall and be lost forever.” Laurie passed the clasp to Amaranthas who brought it close to her black eyes to better examine before handing it to Pio.

[Jesse]

OOC: To Legalos's_Girl and to the others I was talking to, I apologize for my rediculous posts. Mods, please do not delete this message because I was apologizing. I'm apologizing to EVERYONE. Now I'm starting over. I suggest to all I've talked to do the same...


---------------------------------------------
*A Wizard walks into the Green Dragon Inn and notices everyone. Jesse has his left hand over his lower left side. It appears he is wounded. The wizard sees an Elf and walks up to her. Her name is Merucial. The wizard's green robes are shining in the sun. Jesse asks the Elf if they could sit and talk.

The Elf looks suprised that the wizard would take time to notice her. Within a few minutes the two were engulfed in conversation. Jesse was asking the Elf a question:

"You're an Elf, is that correct, Murecial? Don't be surprised that I know you're name. Us wizards know the names of the people before we see them. I am in need of healing. If I am not mistaken, Elves are healers. I was stabbed and the wound is deep. Can you help me?" the wizard asks as he lifts his hand from his lower left side. is coming from the sword wound. As the old wizard struggles to sit down, he screams in pain....*

[Burzdol]

The dwarf, man, and elf sat at the table listening to the other conversations around the bar. Stories of tragic and romantic tales were all that was to be heard. Finally, Burzdol told his own story to the two that sat before him.

"Sorry to hear that," Bali finally said after a few moments of silence.

The three sat in silence and rememberence for a little longer. Burzdol watched people passing him or laughing at a joke at the next table. As small tears fileed his eyes the only innteruption was his soft voice, "Goodbye father, I love you."

[ February 06, 2003: Message edited by: Burzdol ]

[Frodess]

"Here, have some water," said Champignonne, pouring a glass form a pitcher that was on the table. "I, uh, I am glad to see a cousin, though ever so distant. My mother, Umbriel, did not associate with the family. I think my close relations rejected her for something she had done in her youth, before I was born." With this, she blushed. She was getting in the habit of giving too much information.

"I suppose that I am to tell my tale,though there is not much to tell." She tried to cover up the somewhat awkward silence, looking at both in turn.

"Um, I guess it started a month ago. My mother told me that I had to get out in the world, though we had been isolated from most of the Shire all of my life. And so, a few weeks ago, she told me that I had to go to Rivendell, and I have a message for the elves from her. I don't know howshe knows the elves, but only that she does. Over there," (pointing in the direction of Tiquandel) "is my guide, someone whom I have never met, who is supposed to take me to Rivendell. That is all. I have come here so that I may prepare." She didn't say how, but she thought they wouldn't undersatnd the psychological preparation she was going under even now.

"And so," she said, clearing her throat, "if I could get some mushroom soup-hot-" (glancing in the direction of Drago) "do you think you would warm up and talk a while?"

[piosenniel]

ATTENTION ALL PEOPLE SEEKING TO PLAY GAMES IN THE GREEN DRAGON INN

The Green Dragon Inn is a place to come, in character, to tell us about yourself,to interact within the Inn or its grounds, and to tell stories.

It is not a place to start up and run an RPG of your own making. If you wish to play in an RPG, then see about joining the new game, "Search for the Lost Messenger".

Or if you have RPG experience, especially here at the Barrow Downs you can look through our 'Seed Stories' and work one into a game by contacting one of the Shire Moderators - Piosenniel or Child of the 7th Age.

In addition, I would encourage all of you to read The Red Book of Westmarch, the first topic listed in the Shire. It gives a good guideline to the rules for posting in the Shire.

[Himaran]

Bali was stunned; his friend's father, dead? Burzdol must feel terrible. The table was quiet for a long moment.

Finally Burzdol spoke. "I have come here, then, to find you, and go with you on your quest. Here is the message my father wrote to you before he died. I was instructed to give it to you."

Bali took the small and creased leather parchment from his friend's hand. Opening it, carefully so the pages would not rip, he read:

Dear Bali, dwarven friend of my son:

I have gotten news of the army threatening your homeland. I feel thus that it is my duty to give aid to our allies in the north. Long has Gondor been a friend to the Dwarves of the Lonely Mountain.

I will send an army north as soon as it becomes available to me (our forces are spread out throughout Gondor). Best wishes on your journey.

Bali sat there in silence, reading the message. "It appears that help is on the way quicker than I could have hoped for it. We have precious little time to spare, but now that I know we will have aid, my heart is lighter. Let us forget about these matters for now, and pass the evening enjoyably." And so they did.

[Nurumaiel]

A young girl, about nineteen years, flung open the door to the inn and marched in. Her black hair fell loose about her shoulders, and her dark eyes flashed with anger. She was dressed in a well-worn riding suit that was black with silver embroidered onto it.

Marching up to the counter where Cami was standing she demanded, "Have you seen a young man about? He would look a lot like me, about twenty-one. His name is Abonnenharad."

Cami looked thoughtful for a moment, and then shook her head. "No, I have not," she said. "But perhaps I did see him, and I forgot. You may look for him, if you like."

"Thank you," said the woman, her anger seeming to ebb a little at Cami's kind and friendly voice. "If you do see him, don't tell him I'm here. He's trying to escape from me."

"Ah, I see," said Cami with a little smile. She hadn't asked, but the woman told her anyway.

"He's my brother, and he went off to escape from home, but he didn't take me with him because I'm a woman. Isn't that the most foolish thing you've ever heard?"

Cami smiled. "Will you be staying the night?" she asked.

"Yes, I suppose. He'll come here any day now. He said he was going to the Shire."

"Your name?"

"Celebgaladhgwend of Gondor," the woman replied without hesitating. "Maiden of the Silver Tree. I wanted it to be the White Tree but I have an elder sister named that. Most just call me Galadh, though my brother calls me Gwend. Please don't call me Gwend because I think it's ugly. I don't like for people to call me maiden, but tree is all right."

Don had been staring at this woman, fascinated. Now she turned to where Rie was sitting. The only problem was Rie wasn't sitting there anymore. With a little sigh, Don settled back to watch the woman once more. She was interesting, especially when she was angry. It's almost as good as listening to one of Mr. Bilbo's stories, she thought as she fixed her eyes on the fiery girl from Gondor.

[ February 07, 2003: Message edited by: Nurumaiel ]

[Everdawn]

Umbria had sat thinking for a while "your story has troubled you for all your life hasnt it?... leaving you no chance to experence happiness. And evil in this world it is to keep familes apart"

she sighed "small dealing I have had with the rangers of the north, so too dealings of folk from the North. I think it is so, that Endel has been on the path to becoming part of them.. As for his mother i fear she is not to be found."

Umbria stared at Durman again. " I am returning to Dol Amroth one last time soon, and there I am withdrawing my residence and sevice to the prince. Though I fear, The city will not let The Everdawn go without a fight. When I return, would you come with me, as my second guard, then that will allow you to pass into the city of Dol Amroth, I will lead you to her house and there I have done a deed to you. Will you consider it?"

She waited, "you remind me of my son, you are very much alike, always follow your instincts Durman, do you hear me, never ignore them, then you will find what you are looking for".

[piosenniel]

‘It’s a pretty thing, whatever it’s made of.’ Amaranthas turned the clasp over carefully in her tiny hand, then handed it to Pio. Pio smiled when she saw it. It recalled to her the knife she had given Mithadan with the inlayed pommel of mother-of-pearl. The light shifted and ran along the lines of blues and greens on the clasp, like the sea’s water, in motion.

‘Look! Here in fine script along the back.’ Pio took Laurie’s hand and bade her run her finger lightly across the surface of the clasp. The letters were worn and hard to see. ‘Well, what does it say?’ asked the Hobbit. ‘It looks like just a bunch of hen scratchings to me.’

Laurie shrugged her shoulders, and looked at Pio. ‘It is very old. Your mother must have had it handed down to her, and her mother before her and hers before her. There are none now in Middle-earth who use this language.’ Pio’s eyes looked away, unfocused, toward the West. ‘It was the language of my childhood. Long ago to you, yet only a thought away to me.’ She turned the clasp in her hand once again, admiring the beauty of the shell.

‘Fallinel . . . Foam Singer. That is what it says.’ She handed it carefully back to Laurie, her fingers lingering along the cool smoothness of it.

[Durelin]

Durwen left the bar and walked silently toward the door of the Inn. As she walked outside she felt a strange uneasiness in her stomach. The back of her neck tingled, she knew that feeling, someone was watching her. She turned around sharply and let out a scream of rage. She crumpled to the ground, an arrow in her chest.

A man bounded out of the shadows and walked carelessly toward Durwen. "So, I have defeated the 'Dark Maiden' with her own tricks," he said coldly.
"How did you-," Durwen tried to ask him, "How-"
"I have followed you ever since you left the east, do not think no one knows you served him," the man told her angrily.
"Who...are...you?"
"Durelin, sister."
"Brother!" she choked, "How could you!"
"How could I what? Kill you? You spy! How could you turn on your people, on Lorien!"
"Brother, forgive me, I-"
"You cannot be forgiven."

The woman's eyes burned with rage and hatred as she spoke for the last time, "Darkness is never completely gone from the world. It dwells in too many places." Then her eyes glazed over in death.

Durelin lifted up his sister's body and carried it into a patch of trees. He laid her down and covered her with his cloak. I will bury her in the morning.

_______________________
The Search for the Lost Messanger RPG is now full! Thankyou! (I'm helping out you mods!)

[ February 08, 2003: Message edited by: Durelin ]

[The Ruling Ring]

Drago smiled weakly at Champignonne, running his fingers through his hair again. He figured he might as well be up front with these two, right now. It was what they deserved.

"I've just come from the Wilderlands," he said softly. "I'd been living there for about ten years, with three hobbit friends. We all set off together with the same objective--a rather foolish one, in hindsight--to learn magic," he looked tentatively from Champignonne to Ellie. What would be their reaction?

[Elladan Peredhil]

Rym listens intently to the conversation. Evidently he is not the only one who feels some uncertainty about the goings on beyond the borders of the Shire. He wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or even more afraid at this revelation.

“Bree… That’s the town half a day’s journey down the river, right? I think I passed by it in the middle of the night last night…” He scratches at his goatee as the memory of the tall gate looming up in the pitch-black night comes back to him.

[Nurumaiel]

Celebgaladhgwend sat down at a table, a plate of food in her hand. She gave a soft sigh, and flung up her hood over her head. If her brother was at the inn, she didn't want him to recognize her. She began to eat, her dark eyes scanning the room. I suppose it's too much to hope there is someone from Gondor here, she thought. Besides myself and my brother, of course. If my brother is here at all.

Her eyes rested on a hobbit girl, looking no more than seven years of age. Her brown tangled curls fell down to her waist, and her large brown deer eyes gazed at Galadh in wonder and interest. When she saw she had been caught staring, she blushed and ducked her head, turning around and beginning to wolf down her breakfast. A few minutes passed, and the girl slowly turned her head. Seeing that Galadh was still watching her, she was about to turn back to her food again when the Gondorian girl gave her a bright smile. She almost smiled back, then a rebellious look appeared on her face and she whirled around to finish eating.

Galadh shook her head, her black hair tossing about. Just like my younger brother, she thought, laughing silently to herself. Wanting to be friendly, thinking about being friendly, and deciding not to because she, or he, wants to be appear 'tough.' But she's different than my brother somehow. Galadh looked closely at the girl She looks like she wants desperately to be friendly, but she's afraid I won't be friendly back. Poor thing. She must have had a hard past. Like me.

Galadh blushed and ducked her head. No one had heard her, but it embarrassed her to think that way, because she hadn't had a hard past. Just one that was rather… difficult. No one would be able to tell by looking at her, but she was a girl who desperately wanted to let loose her tongue and tell every hardship that had come into her life, only she was afraid she'd tell the wrong person, and only be laughed at. She didn't even dare tell one of her family. Not even one of her closest friends back home. Nobody understood.

She finished her meal and sat back, smiling to herself, to watch the hobbit girl. Well, if she wanted to play a game of hide and seek, so be it. If the girl glanced at her, she'd look away so it didn't appear she had been watching, and then look back and try to catch the girl at it. If you play with a child, they'll immediately warm up to you, Galadh thought. At least, that's the way it was with my family. And I think I'll let this game go on until the girl leaves, or I find my brother, or someone -she looked around for a friendly face- pays some attention to me. And so the game begun.

[Skippy of Motsanu]

A ragged Elf boy walked through the door into the Green Dragon. His cloak and face were worn, as if he has been through a great deal of hardship.

He huddled in a corner, his face down, not daring to look up. He seemed to mumble to himself, but the words were not understandable. He shifted his weight, so he was now leaning on the wall. "I hope nothing bad happens," he said.

[Orual]

The rythmic thud, thud of the hammers had drifted Rie into a bit of a sleepy, automatic state. She hit the nails with the hammer, over and over again, and eventually she stopped thinking about it and let her mind drift to other things. She heard Derufin's voice, but didn't hear what he said, and kept on hammering.

"Rie? Can you hear me?"

Rie startled, and blushed very hard, her face becoming a deeper shade of red than her fiery hair. "I'm so sorry!" she said, fumbling with the hammer. "I, uh, I guess I just drifted off. What was the question?"

Derufin laughed kindly, and repeated his question. "Where are you from, Rie?"

Ah! Good. This was an easy question. "I'm from Gondor, near the Ered Nimrais. That's where I was raised, I mean. My family moved around a good deal, but that's where I spent most of my life. That's where we were living when I ran away." Her voiced trailed away and she bit her lip, tracing the edges of one of the shingles with her finger. Derufin's face gently invited her to say more. "Oh, it's an old story. I'm sure you've heard it a million times from other people. I wanted to be a warrior, like my father and brothers, but I couldn't--I was expected to be a metalcrafter like my mother." She glanced at Derufin and laughed. "Well, I guess that's a twist to the old story. Instead of being a prim lady and sewing in some lord's hall, I was expected to be a metalworker and craft iron in a smithy!" She laughed again, sincerely, hard, and long. "But anyway, I wanted to be a Ranger, but my father wouldn't hear of it, so I ran away. That's basically it. Then I came here, and I love it, so I have no plans to return. And you, Derufin?" she asked, turning to him with an expectant face. "From whence do you hail?"

[Frodo Baggins]

The pale stranger with dark hair and sky blue eyes pushed the door of the inn open and stepped inside. He was wearing a dark mossy green cloak clasped with a gold brooch. He had a large pack slung on hs back, a harp case in one hand and a carved staff of oak in the other. Slowly, he walked over to the counter to pay for a room, and was shown to one towards the back of the inn. A room in a quiet out of the way place.

A few minutes later, the strnager returned without his cloak or staff, but with his harp-case. He had a green shawl of silk and lamb's wool over a greenish-greyish-purplish robe, with a leather belt clasped with silver, and a ring of twisted gold about his neck. The stranger stood in the door of the common room, as if unsure what to do next.

[Elladan Peredhil]

Rym spots the harp case and smiles. "Ah, I see another musician has come to the Inn." He waves to the stranger to get his attention.

"I couldn't help but notice your harp. I thought we might play a tune later this evening, if you're up for it." He produces his musical pipe from the folds of his cloak.

[ February 07, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Frodo Baggins]

The stranger smiles shyly and then laughs.

"Another music lover sent my way. Thank Eru!" The stranger pushed a few dark hairs, and one or two grey ones, away from hs face, and then bowed to Ryn.
"Please, allow me to introduce myself. The name is Cromthal, Cromthal fo Rathcoe. I come from a remote land in Eriador." He gave the harp-case an affectioante stroke. "And this is Aingeal, my partner in song." he said with a smile. "Who may I ask are you?"

[Elladan Peredhil]

Rym smiles and pulls up yet another chair to the table. "I am Rirrym of Gondor, though most people simply call me Rym, and these two charming women are Rave and Hiri. I just arrived here about an hour ago, and have been enjoying their company ever since then."

He scratches at his goatee. "So.. What brings you to the Shire?"

[ February 07, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Frodo Baggins]

Cromthal nodded to the ladies and sat down. Setting the harp case at his feet.

"Well, lets see. I am a bard and healer by trade. I am part of the ruling class of my people. Though still and apprentice. I will not rule the section of Rathcoe until my master dies. My people are the Brehon, and my order is known as the Sidhe. We speak a language similar to Sindarin, but we are humans.

As for what brings me to the Shire, I have been a traveller for the past few months. I have a tendency to spend more time daydreaming than doing my duty, and I am quite clumsy, I'm sorry to say. A few months ago, my master gave me provisions and his blessing. He then told me that some time in the dangers of the wild would bring my head from the clouds to earth. (If you ever see him, don't tell him that I think it's not working.) I have been a wanderer ever since.

[ February 07, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[theWhiteLady]

Laurie took back the clasp and ran her fingers over the words absentmindedly. She had never noticed the script in all the time she had handled it, wishing and wondering if it held some key to her mother's past. And yet... Pio had seen it right away. As wonderful, exciting, and puzzling as the message was, Laurie could not help but feel rather cheated that she had not found it first. After all, it was her own mother's clasp. She studied Pio's grey eyes with her own clouded blue as the Elf placed the very last dishes into the stone sink and the took Amaranthas' worn fingers into her own smooth hand.

"It is now time that I should depart for the Green Dragon. Thank you for your generosity and I trust that everything shall be arranged with Rosie?"

"Of course, my dear friend, I shall be in touch with Mrs. Rosie very soon. It will not be long now!" The old hobbit patted Pio's slightly swelled belly fondly. "And you, Miss Laurie," Amaranthas turned to Laurie who had stood and was smoothing the folds of her dress as she spoke. "It was a pleasure to meet you, and I am pleasantly surprised to find that your kindness is as marvelous as your reputation is fierce." Laurie smiled down at the tiny hobbit whose personality was larger than those of many of the big and important men she had met on her travels. Amaranthas laughed loudly before looking carefully into Laurie's face. "I wish you much luck on your travels, young woman, and may wisdom and joy be ever present in your life. And don't forget to visit this old cottage if you ever pass this way again."

"I wouldn't dream of passing it up," Laurie added seriously, but her blue eyes were smiling. She then turned to Pio, who was standing by the door watching the pair of them.

[ February 07, 2003: Message edited by: theWhiteLady ]

[Skippy of Motsanu]

The elf boy in the corner realized that he might look conspicuious sitting over there. He walked slowly over to a table, and slumped down in a chair.

"I guess this is as good a place to stay for awhile as any," he said. He leaned back in his chair, drumming his fingers on the table. He pulled his cloak tighter around him, though it was not cold.

[Elladan Peredhil]

Rym notices the Elf boy as he moves towards another table to sit by himself. Knowing what it is like to feel the odd-one-out, he considers asking the boy to join the table. He catches the new strangers eye and points to a chair, before pointing to the table in front of him.

Turning his gaze back to Cromthal, he smiles. "That sounds like an interesting tale. Far more interesting than mine, at any rate.. I just wandered here from Gondor, letting my horse pick the direction we went and somehow ended up here. I am glad my horse has such a good sense of direction, as I have met many good people even in this hour, but I still find myself wondering what other places there are to explore. For now I will be content to have a roof over my head, though." smilies/biggrin.gif

[ February 08, 2003: Message edited by: Elladan Peredhil ]

[nevlhachien]

The door to the Green Dragon Inn slowly opens and a fair half-elven maiden slips in. She removes her hood and looks around the room. Her eyes cautiously search about the foriegn surroundings. Her long wavy golden hair falls about her face. The maiden chooses a seat in a dark corner where she sits, and waits for nothing in particular.

All is busy about her but she just sits. She takes a map out of her bag and studies it. "The Shire. Indeed an interesting place." she says to herself. "What am I, Nevlhachien the half-elf doing in such a exquisite place?"

Nevlhachien looks about the map, wondering whither her next journey will take her.

[ February 08, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[raukomarth]

The loud sound of a horse gallop came to a stop, the horse was all black and dark as the night like the tall man, jumping down off his steed. His face was covered in a hood of weather beaten material. He walked up the long winding path to the inn door, it almost reminded him of the withywindle with a lot of grass either side. He had been here before but it was a long time ago. He didn't worry about his horse it was well able to fend for itself. He continued up the path and took the final three steps to the door. He listened carefully and could here the laughter and talking coming from within. He entered.

The wind rushed in as the door had opened and then it slammed shut. He walked to the corner and sat watching, taking note of the people. Two elven maids caught his eye. They were sitting by themselves at a table laughing at past times and happy memories. Swiftly the stranger walked over to the table.

"Greetings, my fair maidens." spoke the man, his voice dry from long travel. "may i interupted your conversation and join you at your table?"

[arelendil]

Elwen looked up and smiled at the stranger standing before her. She thought she remembered him from somewhere on her travels but the thought was soon swept away.

"Of course you may join us." Elwen laughed. "The Lady Nostawen and I do not mind the company."

The man bowed and took the seat that Erulon had occupied a little while earlier. He removed his hood and a small smile lit up his face. Elwen turned to the Lady Nostawen, who nodded and returned the smile.

"Well then friend, tell me of yourself. what is your name?"

Elwen played with the silver bow in her lap and ajusted her tunic of midnight blue. She half wished that Erulon would return but he had gone with the dwarf to seek someone and probably wouldn't be back for a while. The ring upon her finger flashed as Elwen flicked her hair behind her shoulders and listened to the stranger seated with them.

[Frodo Baggins]

Cromthal smiled again at Rym, then he sighed and wistfully said

"Yes, other places to explore. I have wondered that too. Actually, Rirrym, I have decided after wandering alone for a few months, well, alone except for my dear Seargal my horse, I would come and take a look to see if anyone was interested in taking up as a partner with a clumsy, daydreamy bard." The way Cromthal smirked told that he was poking fun at himself.

"Gondor you say? I have heard of Gondor many times, but this is the first time I have been ouside my own land. My master did ensure that I was well versed in Common Speech, the Elven tongues, Rohirrim, and Gondorian." He nodded to the elf boy with a bright smile. Then he bagen to eat the potatoes and fried mushrooms he had ordered.

"Well, this is a relief." he continued "I stayed at an inn a few days ago where I got four potatoes and two were rotten. Thankfully I was told the food is better here."

[ February 08, 2003: Message edited by: Frodo Baggins ]

[Skippy of Motsanu]

The Elf boy pointed to himself. Me? he thought. He came over to the table, and sat down in the chair.

"Um, hello," he said. "I am called Skippy, though I know not my real name." He leaned forward in his chair. "Might I ask your name?" he inquired.

[Elladan Peredhil]

Rym smiles warmly at Skippy. "Fair enough, at least we have something to call you now. I am Rirrym of Gondor, though most people call me Rym. The others here are Hiri, Rave, and Cromthal." As he says each name, he nods in their direction so that Skippy will know who is who.

He turns to Cromthal. "I've only had an ale so far, so I yet to taste the food. I'll admit that I'm feeling hungry." As if to prove his point, his stomach lets out a long, low growl and he smiles apologetically . "Foraging in the wild doesn't always keep your stomach full, and I should probably take advantage of the opportunity to get some food while I can. Did anyone else want something to eat? I can go and order some food if you like.."

[Skippy of Motsanu]

Skippy nodded. "Greetings, all," he said. He laid his hands on the table and smiled warmly. "Thank you for inviting me to sit with you," he said.

He pulled a small box out from inside his cloak. "This is my flute," he said. He patted it fondly.

[Nurumaiel]

Galadh stared at the little box in Skippy's hand. His flute? I wonder… She slowly approached him, abandoning the little girl (who was thankful she could watch the Gondorian girl in peace now), and, stopping behind him, tapped him on the shoulder. He whirled around.

"Excuse me, sir," she said. "I couldn't help but notice your flute. Do you know how to play the song Trî I Taur?"

"Why, yes, I do," he replied.

"Well, if you don't mind, would you play it for me? And I'll sing."

"But it's in the Elven tongue," the elf boy said. "You are of Gondor, are you not? Can you speak Sindarin?"

"No, I can't, but once a wandering bard came and taught me this song."

The boy raised the flute to his lips and began to play a sweet melody. Instantly all eyes were on him. Galadh found herself blushing furiously. Oh well, it's too late now. I have to sing. So she began…

Filigod glîren i 'elaidh,
govannen na athan glîr.
Gwaew dram moe naergonren
ar echadle 'liran.
Elo! na charu i vain
fael dogdîn.
Ú-garharu i 'lîriath
ar bain uin e-daur.

Trî i daur im badaren,
Badaren dínen.
Ú-thloss lastabain
O taur melui lhoss.
Verthaim ú-bedpeth achas
I vain pain gûr.
Im badaned lastadîn
Na vain ned lhawen.

Eriadúath, eriadant
I thôr reviam.
E rovail beliaedar
i 'waew dogha.
I edhil dhregair lastahain
Tailen nellaren moe
Trî i daur panas.

Trî i daur im badaren,
Badaren dínen.
Ú-thloss lastabain
O taur melui lhoss.
Verthaim ú-bedpeth achas
I vain pain gûr.
Im badaned lastadîn
Na vain ned lhawen.

Elo....
Im badaned dîn lastaren...
Lastaren... Lastaren...
Im badaned dîn lastaren
Na vain ned lhawen.

She finished. Smiling at Skippy, she gave little bow, said her thanks, and retreated back to her table.

[Skippy of Motsanu]

Skippy smiled. He did not know that she would know that song. He placed his flute back in it's case, and closed it.

"Music is a wonderful thing, is it not?" he stated. "One of the greatest treasure we know."

[Eruwen]

Rave looked over at Skippy who seemed to be very happy he was able to play his flute.

"Aye, music is a wonderful thing," she said to him. "and it is always quite a joy to hear new songs from other lands. I doubt that anything in Rohan could match up to the songs of the Elves. Do not get me wrong, in Rohan there is many skilled musicians. The Elves have always just thrilled me with the beauty of their sound."

Rave sat listening to the conversations around her. Her thoughts suddenlt turned to Melimo in the stables. A long time she had been in the Shire, yet Rave had almost forgotten of her presence due to all the commotion of the inn.

She stood quietly and addressed her company. "Quite sorry, but I must excuse myself for a short moment." she said. "I must tend to my steed, Melimo, in the stables."

With the last breath of her words, Rave quickly exited the inn and headed for the stables where Melimo stayed. She sat down over on a stool by the steed. As she brushed the soft hair on Melimo's neck, Rave hummed a soft tune she heard some Elves singing on her journey.

[ February 08, 2003: Message edited by: Eruwen ]

[Orual]

A young man stepped into the Inn. He was cloaked in green, his face partially shadowed by the hood. What was visible of his face was young, friendly, and strangely familiar to some of the Inn's patrons. But few, if any, even of those who seemed to recognize him had ever seen him before.

He was an unassuming figure, not very tall and of a slight build. His clothes, what could be seen of them beneath his cloak, were dirty and well-worn, and looked like they were probably hand-me-downs. He walked with a self-assured gait, but not one that called attention to himself. All in all, he looked like a Ranger--which he was.

After asking for a glass of water, he took a seat at one of the tables. The young, raven-haired girl caught his eye, and he smiled at her blush. It reminded him of the one he had come here to seek. "This seems like a place where she would feel comfortable," he said quietly. He threw back his hood and shifted in his seat. Most of those who had seen him come in were no longer paying him any mind, but if they had been, they might have received another clue as to why they recognized him. His hair was dark red, and his eyes bright green.

He turned around and saw a young hobbit girl. She was watching the young woman, who was now singing, but he mistakenly thought that the girl was watching him. "Do you mind if I ask you a question, miss?" he asked.

[Frodo Baggins]

Cromthal lifted his harp case into his lap.

"So, we have two flutes and my Aingeal. I have a flute myself, but tis in my room with the rest of my things. I can only play one at a time you see. Rirrym? Aingeal hasn't had a chance to sing in a while. Do you think your flute a worthy singing partner for her?" he said with a wink.

He removed the harp from its case and said,"If you allow me I shall warm up a bit first." He struck a few cords and began in a voice that was a bit higher than most men

'Tis the last rose of summer,
Left blooming alone,
All her lovely companios
Are faded and gone.
No flower of her kindred
No rosebud is nigh
To reflect back her blushes,
Or give sigh for sigh.

I'll not leave thee, thou lone one,
To pine on the stern,
Since the lovely are sleeping,
Go, sleep now with them.

Thus kindly I'll scatter
Thy leaves o'er the bed,
Where thy mates of the garden
Lie scentless and dead.

So soon may I follow
When friendships decay;
And from love's shinign circle
The gems drop away!
When true hearts lie wither'd,
And fond ones are flow'n
Oh! who would inhabit
This bleak world alone?

The notes of the harp then faded slowly away.

[ February 08, 2003: Message edited by: Frodo Baggins ]

[ February 08, 2003: Message edited by: Frodo Baggins ]

[ February 08, 2003: Message edited by: Frodo Baggins ]

[Nurumaiel]

Don stared up at the man. He looked awfully familiar, but she knew she had never seen him before in all her life.

"Why, certainly, sir," she said, trying in vain to be rebellious. Why couldn't she be? She acted rude to everyone except Rie, and this man was not Rie. "What would you like to know?"

[Envinyatar]

Derufin grimaced as she asked him this question, and he turned his head, gazing South, for a moment. In a quiet voice he answered. ‘I once dwelt in Ethring, in the Ringló Vale. But now my home is wherever my feet can take me.’ And as far from that place as they will. he thought to himself.

‘You look to be about twenty. Am I right?’ He smiled at her, remembering the carefree exuberance of his youth at that age. ‘It was at your age when I left for last time. I am to be thirty two soon. A scant handful of years that seem a life time ago now.’ He looked at her appraisingly, wondering if she understood that that was how it was when one took up the life of wandering.

He stood up, and surveyed their handywork. The last of the shingles were in place and the stable looked as if it would weather many more storms now. ‘Let’s go down and have something to eat and drink.’ he said, extending a hand up to her. ‘We’ve done a good job, and I could stand something to take care of this parched throat of mine.’

Derufin descended the ladder first and held it for her as she made her way down. He took her hammer and the now empty bag of nails from her. Shouldering the ladder, he waved her off toward the Inn, saying he would join her if she wished when he had put things away.

[Legolas'_girl]

SAVE for re-worked post.

[ February 08, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

~~~~~ General Memo ~~~~~

Let's get some good descriptive writing going to wrap around the dialogs between characters.

I would like to see some of you do paragraphs that are a little longer in length, and more descriptive.

Otherwise, nice characterizations everyone!

[piosenniel]

The ride back to the Inn was a silent one. Laurie appeared to be deep in thought as Nell trudged alongside ‘Falmar, and Pio did not wish to intrude.
Only the clop , clop of the hooves on the dirt path broke the quiet.

The Elf’s own mind was turned to thoughts of simpler days. The Foam singers, that is how the Telerin had named themselves. Their voices and the harmony of their very movements adding truth to their naming. They had taken her in as one of their own, teaching her to love the sea. A child of Ulmo she had become, brown under the sun, her arms and legs taking her far into the currents and deep into the depths. She had reveled in the freedom, even now wishing she could sink into the salty arms of the waves.

She shook off these wandering thoughts as they approached the Inn, and turned into its courtyard. They stabled the horses and after wiping them down and feeding them, Pio turned to go into the Dragon. She paused, looking to see if Laurie was coming in also.

Laurie stood near Nell still, and Pio drew near her. ‘If you wish to speak with me of the matters that were brought up at Amaranthas, please feel free to come to my rooms later. I will leave it up to you to ask what you wish to know.’

Pio walked slowly to the door of the Green Dragon and entered the familiar warmth and gaiety of the Common Room. She went behind the bar, and grabbed an apron off the hook to put on.

‘Ale on the House!’ she announced loudly to the room, smiling broadly. Reaching below to the shelves beneath the bar, she began setting up rows of pint glasses on the bar top.

[Durelin]

He had killed his sister. She deserved it, there was no way she would turn back, you saw her...Even from the last moment she was binded to the darkness. She would never break free... Durelin told himself over and over, but he could not help but feel guilt...and overwhelming sorrow.

He stumbled absentmindedly into the Inn just as it was announced that drinks were on the house. As everyone rushed to the bar, he moved toward a table in the corner. He needed a strong drink, but he didn't have the strength to get it. There still could have been a chance...but could you afford to take a chance for a chance? So many questions he didn't know the answers to. And he couldn't think. The noise of the boisterous folk sounded like his sisters scream when he-- It wouldn't go away, the sound of pure agony and anger would never go away. But he was used to this, so many things had happened, so many things that had left scars far deaper in his soul than any sword or spear could make in his flesh. His dreams were filled with memories, memories so numerous that he never dreampt of the future, ever of the past.

______________________________
The Search for the Lost Messanger RPG is now full! Thankyou! I am now done helping you mods! And Helkahothion, of course!

[ February 08, 2003: Message edited by: Durelin ]

[Orual]

The young man smiled and went to sit by the hobbit girl. "I'm looking for a young woman, and you seem to be the type that I think she'd like. Not that I'm sure, it's just my first impression," he added, mostly to remind himself that he didn't know for sure. "She'd have been here for a while, or been here a while ago. I don't know if she stayed here or just passed by, but if I'm not badly off my mark she's been here. She's my age, looks a lot like me...longer hair, of course, but the same colour as mine. She's not really tall, has a cloak like this one," he fingered his cloak to illustrate his point, "and a brown tunic and lighter brown pants. She might've brought a green dress, but I'm not sure."

He stopped short, and looked at the girl. He was going about this entirely the wrong way. He should've given her a reason to trust him--a good reason for him to be searching for this person. But it was too late now, he had to carry through. He might as well finish the description.

"She's not overly easy to get along with, but if she likes you she'll be true to you. She's very argumentative, and anything you say will quickly turn into a debate. She can rarely tell where a jest is out of place, and isn't very well-mannered. Ah, her name is Talmérië, but she often goes by Rië, or just Rie." The girl's expression changed suddenly, and the young man hastily added, "My name is Talômi. I'm her brother--her twin."

[Nurumaiel]

Galadh settled back in her chair once more. She was still blushing furiously from singing in front of so many people, and she knew some eyes were still on her. But the sight of the flute had reminded her of past days, when she was just a little girl. Her father would bring out his flute and play sweet melodies, while they all sang together. It was that thought that had made her go and ask for him to play.

The color slowly faded from Galadh's cheeks until there was just a faint blush that was her natural complexion. Her eyes grew soft and dreamy, and she sank her head down to prop it on her fists, watching everyone crowd to the bar to get some ale. Suddenly she smiled and stood up. She could find her brother easily now. He never drank ale, and the room was now empty. She scanned it quickly, and her eyes rested on a man sitting in the corner. She was about to look away, but something in his eyes stopped her. He looked almost haunted… sadness and guilt were in his eyes, Galadh could see it. Standing up, she went to the bar. She shoved her way through the crowd and grabbed a mug of ale, as well as asking the innkeeper to bring her a cup of plain water when she had the time. Then she walked towards the table.

"Here," she said, placing the mug down in front of the man. He looked up at her, startled out of his deep thoughts. "I was always taught to serve a man ale when he came to the house, though this isn't my house." She laughed and sat down across from him, then abruptly stopped her laughter and stared at him in wonder. "Though I was never taught," she said, wonder filling her voice, "to serve an Elf, I suppose I should."

"Durelin, m'lady," he said rather absentmindedly, though she hadn't asked his name.

"Celebgaladhgwend, or just Galadh." She stood up. "I'll go now. I'm probably bothering you, I just thought you looked rather lonely here, and I'm rather lonely myself. I'm looking for my brother." She took a step back, and then sighed. "I'm sorry for bothering you," she said softly. "I do hope you like your ale. Now I suppose you'd like me to go."

* * *

Don stared at the man. Rie's twin? She digged around in her memory, trying to recall if Rie would want him to come chasing after her or not. She could not remember. She ducked her head and mumbled something, pointing vaguely in the direction the thought Rie had gone.

"Thank you," said the man with a little bow. He walked off in that direction. Don watched him go, hoping that either Rie wanted to find her twin, or that she was not in that direction.

[ February 08, 2003: Message edited by: Nurumaiel ]

[Orual]

Talômi waited anxiously inside for a reply, but outside Rie had no idea of her brother's troubles, or even of his whereabouts. She was enjoying her talk with Derufin, but she realized that her own throat was quite dry. Still, she was trying to recall what manners her mother had attempted to instill in her (though the good woman's efforts had been few and far between), and she called back up to Derufin, "I'll wait here for you. Take your time!"

She leaned on the stable wall, gazing up into the clear sky. She hoped that she hadn't upset Derufin when she asked where he was from; but it seemed like an appropriate question at the time. Rie had a lot to learn about what was and what was not appropriate.

She called a salutation to Piosenniel as she came in, but the Elf didn't seem to hear, so Rie let it lie.

"Don's probably wondering where I am," she said to herself. "I'll have to find her once Derufin comes back." But she was in no rush, so she sat on the ground and waited for Derufin.

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

Talômi's eyes lit up when the girl pointed toward where Rie had gone. Finally! Bless this child! "Thank you," he said, bowed, and took off in the direction he was given.

He'd finally found his sister. After weeks of searching, he'd finally found her. He could practically see her now, his other half. He'd missed her so badly that it hurt. He wondered, had she missed him that much?

Had she missed him at all?

Talômi stopped short, almost falling over. What if she hadn't missed her family? Maybe she didn't want to be found. Maybe it would only hurt her more. Rië (which is what he and their brothers always called her) was always an independant spirit, which was why she ran away in the first place. Maybe he wasn't doing the right thing at all, and his beloved sister would be better off if he just left.

He sank down to the ground, his back against the wall and his hands covering his face. "Eru, what do I do?" he moaned.

[ February 08, 2003: Message edited by: Orual ]

[Elladan Peredhil]

Rym's cheeks blush a deep red as Cromthal offers to let him play, and they turn an even deeper red as he hears Cromthal's melodious voice. I can't compete with this... he thinks. I'm not learned enough... I'll bet a novice could play better than me. But how can I get out of it?

You can't, you fool.. You've gotten yourself into this mess, as you have gotten yourself into too many other messes to count in the past, and now you must pay the price. He hated it when his mind started having conversations with itself, it often made him look unsure or ignorant.

Rirrym notices that his clammy hands are wringing at his cloak, making the holes in the fabric even larger, and he forces his mind to clear so that he can unclench them. "I'd love to play with you, Cromthal, but I'm not sure what kinds of songs your people play. Do you prefer joyous or sad songs? With a quick or slow tempo?" Very good, fool.. his mind said to him. Now you've managed to stall for a few moments, but then he'll be expecting you to play with him and you'll make an even bigger fool of yourself in front of everyone. You'll have to leave for certain, then... Just when you'd been making friends, too.

[Frodo Baggins]

Cromthal was embarased to find a tear like a tiny jewel on his cheeck. Exasperated, he quickly wiped it away with his hand.

"Forgive me, that song makes me want to weep. Well Rirrym, my people have three general types of song or music. The joyous song, the lament, and the lullaby. I can play just about anything, you start and I'll accompany you."

[Elladan Peredhil]

Rirrym offers Cromthal a white cloth handkerchief from his pocket. As he releases his hold on the fine fabric, he smiles absentmindedly, remembering the day his mother had given it to him.

"My father once said that it was the sign of a great musician that has his music come from the heart. That tear you shed is proof enough of that for me." He fingers his silver pipe, trying to decide what type of melody would best hide his presumed lack of ability. He takes a deep breath. Well, I guess it's now or never. If I'm going to be thrown out of here as Middle Earth's worst pipe-player, I might as well do it now so I can get a bit further away on horseback. "How about a lullaby?" Rym offers, and at Cromthal's nod, his thin fingers move into place and he brings the pipe to his lips.

Rym closes his eyes as he starts to playing a soft, melodious lullaby from his homeland. To his surprise, no-one throws rotten food at him or runs towards him with a stick to use in helping to throw him out. Cromthal joins in a few notes later, once he has picked up the general melody.

[Frodo Baggins]

The harp and flute mixed beautifully for the next few moments. It took Cromthal a few moments to pick up Rirrym's tune, but when he did, the blend was beyond beautiful. When they were finished, Cromthal smiled softly at Rirrym.

"You should be a bard yourself, you have much talent, and I thank you. Aingeal has not sung like that since I left my master. Oh! Here! You can have your handkerchief back." Cromthal handed him the soft white square of cloth.

[Elladan Peredhil]

Rirrym turns beet red at the compliment, so that the freckles that splotch his nose and cheeks seem to look even darker. "Thank you for the compliment, but I'm not really that great. My father and his father could, if they were here, both put me to shame with the first note they played." He sighs -- at times, he hated his family and the stress they could still manage to put on his life, even from hundreds of miles away. It's not your family who are to blame... It's yourself. You're the one who constantly compares yourself to them.. If you'd only put that aside, perhaps you could be happy with who you are.

That piece of advice was true at least, but how could he put his past behind him when it was still such a large part of his everyday life.. The horse that he rode and his flute both came from his family. Even his clothes, weathertorn though they were, came from his homeland. I even introduce myself as coming from Gondor... he admitted to himself.

He smiles at Cromthal, suddenly remembering that the handkerchief was still being offered out to him. He takes it, fingering it lovingly before he places it into a pocket on the inside of his cloak.

[nevlhachien]

Nevlhachien slowly folded up her torn and tattered map and carefully placed it back in her bag. She thought to herself, The air in here feels stuffy. I need a bit of fresh air. She got up from her seat in the dark corner and walked over to the door. She slowly opened the door and steped out into the cool evening air.

The wind blew through Nevlhachien's golden hair as she stood but a few paces from the Green Dragon Inn. She let out a whistle and a beautiful black horse troted to her side.

Nevlhachien stroked the horse's neck and whispered to her, 'It is a beautiful evening tonight, Isilmire.'

A lone tear fell down Nevlhachien's cheek as a memory of her brother was brought to her by the wind. She buried her face in Isilmire's black mane and softly wept. My last living family member was taken from me. Why am i left her alone on this earth? Why wasn't i taken with my brother? I will despair to the end of my days. she whispered to the horse.

Nevlhachien lifted her head and wiped the tears from her face. She let her horse wander to where ever she desired until she is needed and Nevlhachien headed back into the Inn. She walked in with her head down so no one could see her tear stricken eyes and slowly walked back to her place in the corner. There she sat while ever more memories raced through her mind.

[ February 09, 2003: Message edited by: nevlhachien ]

[Lyra Greenleaf]

"MAGIC?" asked Ellie, half shouting.
"Yes" replied Drago looking nervous.
"Wow, that's amazing! Isn't that fantastic Champignonne? Can you do some now? Can you make fireworks like Gandalf?" She looked down at Drago, for in her excitement she had jumped up from her chair.
"You were so worried about our reaction! That's so...sweet!"
Without warning she gathered him up in a hug.
Settling down she added "Don't worry. So, where are your friends. And why did you come back?"

Drago hesitated, and Ellie jumped up again.
"Actually before you tell what I can see will be a long and VERY interesting tale, it is late and I need a room. I'm sure you do too. Champignonne, I guess you know who I should talk to, right?"

At the Hobbit's nod, Ellie dragged her away, calling over her shoulder to Drago "Don't worry, I'll reserve a room for you too."

[Frodo Baggins]

Cromthal looked oddly at Rirrym for a moment, wondering at the odd comment he had made about his father and grandfather. Cromthal hadn't been lying a bit, Rirrym should be a bard, he had talent enough. Before his training, Cromthal wasn't very good with music himself. Rirrym seemed almost to be having an internal argument with himself. Finally he seemed to realized Cromthal was returnig his handkechief.

Oh wellCromthal thought to himself. As long as he does not prod me about my past, I won't prod him about his.

[The Ruling Ring]

Drago sat rigid in his chair, looking, stunned, after Ellie and Champignonne.

"Well," he thought, "I'm glad she doesn't think I'm a freak of some kind."

His gaze shifted to Champignonne. He hadn't much seen her reaction.

It just seemed so strange, a hobbit who knew magic. Granted, he didn't know very much, but still, it seemed unorthodox for him to know even what he did. At least, that's what his mother had always told him.

He looked back over at Ellie with a smile, as she spoke excitedly to a man, probably arranging their rooms. He hadn't been expecting the hug, but he'd quite appreciated it. It had been ages since anyone had received him so kindly, especially at the news of his wanting to learn magic. Ellie seemed intrigued. He liked that...

[Himaran]

After telling a few stories, the Elf, Man and Dwarf were silent at their table. Then Bali remembered about Elwen.

"Erulon, we have been discourtious! The fair ladies Elwen and Nostalwen have been waiting for us, and" - Bali was gone. Miss Pioseniel had issued the announcement about the free ale, and the dwarf was never above taking an opportunity to save a few silver coins.

"Bali is right, Burzdol," said Eruantalon. "We ought to go back over to Elwen's table."

"Sounds good to me!" Burzdol was in fact quite eager to meet the two fair maidens which Bali seemed to hold in such high regard.

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

Bali was on his third drink. Chatting with some inhabitants of the bar, Bali had almost forgotten about the other members of his party (though the ale may have had something to do with that). Finally, he got several other drinks for his friends, put them on a tray, and headed toward Elwen's table. A little hobbit girl was running across the room, and her angry mother was yelling "Lizabell, come here this very minute!" Some children just have no respect for their parents, thought Bali. Without a doubt that girl will get herself hurt running loose in this inn.

Sadly (he was deep in thought), Bali had not noticed the that the elf (which had caused him to leave the ladies' table in the first place) had moved and was sitting in the direction he was moving. As he passed by the table, the elf (grinning to his friends) ever-so-slyly slipped his foot out in front of the dwarves small legs.

A bizzare series of events ensued. Bali tripped over the elve's leg. The platter with the four drinks went flying. Bali's drink, which he was holding in his other hand, emptied into the elve's face. Bali Twisted his falling body around, and he ending up sitting on (and crushing under his emmense weight) the elve's extended leg.

But worst of all, the the platter had found there way to the little hobbit girl racing through the inn, and she was not only thoroughly doused in the drinks, but also knocked down by the platter. To Bali, it was all his most terrifying nightmares come true at once. Every eye in the inn was staring at the girl, and then found their way to him.

As he rushed over to help the girl up, she leaped up off the floor and dashed away from the dwarf, hurrying back to her mother, and screaming. "Mommy Mommy!! A big mean dwarf threw stuff at me and knocked me down, and then - - - WAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!!!!!"

Bali cleaned up the mess and tried to explain what happened to the infuriated mother, but nothing he said to her would stop her from stomping out of the inn, carrying her wailing child. The elf would have been laughing at him, but he was having his leg attended to.

Getting some fresh drinks, he hurried over to Elwen's table, where Eruantalon and Burzdol were sitting. What a horrible evening this has been!

[ February 09, 2003: Message edited by: Himaran ]

[Durelin]

"No, you do not bother me," Durelin said to the woman, emerging from his dark cloud of dreams, "Forgive me for my rudeness." The elf suddenly smiled at the young woman's face. It was so full of cheer, and he was glad to see it. "Celebgaladhgwend, eh, that is a large name for such a lass...if you do not mind me calling you such. Thankyou for the ale, you should treat an elf no different from a man. We are no better or worse. May I call you Galadh then?"

"Yes," answered the woman shortly, she was suprised by his sudden talkativeness. He was a strange elf indeed.

[theWhiteLady]

With dark blue eyes, Laurie watched Pio disappear into the Green Dragon. Nell nudged her sharply and Laurie braced herself as Nell rubbed her head against the young lady’s back. Through her heavy thoughts, Laurie could not help but laugh. With a last fond scratch on Nell’s white star, Laurie traced Pio’s steps and entered the bustling inn.

Noise of the visitors inside broke upon her like a wave upon a rock. The inn was
crowded, but that was no change. Laurie was able to make her way to a table without being noticed. She sat, playing with the sleeves of her white dress, and thought of the visit to Amaranthas’ house. The clasp was still in her pocket, and with one small white hand, she grasped it, feeling once more the smooth coolness of the shell. Questions ran through her mind, so many that she felt like a whirwind of confusion had descended into her thoughts. Pio’s invitation stood out foremost, however, and Laurie was torn. For as long as she had wanted to know the truth about her mother, she now realized she was afraid of what Pio might be able to reveal. Laurie’s golden head sank into her hands and she closed her eyes and ears to the world around her.

[Envinyatar]

Surprised that Rie was waiting for him, Derufin gave her a hand up and they walked across the yard to the Inn. He put his hand on her arm as she made for the front steps. ‘Let’s go round the back, through the kitchen. The cook told me I could help myself to the pantry and larder once I was done. We’ll make us some sandwiches and then go into the common room for some ale to wash them down.’

He grabbed her hand and ran round to the kitchen door. It was cool inside, after the afternoon heat and their exertions. Derufin pulled out bread and cheese and meats and mustard and pickles, lining them up in an efficient row. Some lettuce and a tomato found in the cooler rounded out his sandwich troops. He handed Rie a table knife and the mustard crock as he cut the bread in nice thick slices.

‘Pile it on! I’m famished!’ he said, grinning at her, as she plied the mustard with her knife, slathering it on the bread.

He rummaged through the slatted cupboard. ‘I could have sworn I smelled fresh cookies and fruit pies this morning when I woke up. Now where has she put them?’

[Orual]

"Oh, they ought to be in that cupboard--no, not that one, the one to the right. Yes, that's the one." Rie put the mustard up and wiped the knife on the bread, then on the apron that she had donned. The bread was thoroughly yellow: the perfect amount of mustard, as far as Rie was concerned. She always liked more mustard than anybody else in her family. She hoped that Derufin liked a lot of mustard, because she had certainly put a lot on.

The sandwiches done, Rie went over to the sink and washed, dried, and put away the few dishes that were dirty. It had become somewhat of a habit lately--do the dishes, talk to Nuru, argue jokingly with Don, try to catch whatever was going on in the common room (and there was always something going on in the common room). She'd only broken one so far, which was quite good for her. (That incident had ended in a lot of apologies, and a lot of reassuring and cajoling to get Rie back into the kitchen again.)

"Did you find them, Derufin?" Rie called.

[Frodo Baggins]

Cromthal got up from the table to go get another mug of ale from the bar. Halfway there, he felt a tug on his shawl. He looked down and saw a dog had come out of nowhere and had the fringe of his shawl in it's mouth. Cromthal wasn't used to dogs. His master had kept them but Cromthal kept cats and usually avoided his master's dogs. Cromthal knew the fabric was strong, but did not want to risk tearing the shawl.

"See here," he began, trying to pry the dog's mouth open. "you let go of me now." While he was occupied with this, another dog bounded up behind Cromthal and bounded up on his back. Caught off guard and off balance, Cromthal was knocked flat with a muffled shriek.

[Elladan Peredhil]

Rirrym tried to stiffle the laughter that escaped his lips as he saw Cromthal's predicament. He rises from the table and walks over to Cromthal, his cloak flapping softly behind him. "Here, let me give you a hand," he says, reaching out a calloused hand to help his new acquaintance up from the wooden floorboards.

"Thank you," Cromthal replies. "I've never been very good with dogs."

Rym smiles. "Yes, I'd noticed," Rym says in an amused tone. "The thing to remember around dogs is that you're in control."

"But I'd told them to stop," Cromthal said, his face looking perplexed. "They did not listen."

"They are dogs, Master Cromthal.. They do not necessarily understand your words, just the tone of your voice. If you act scared, they will not respect you. Now," he says with a chuckle, "weren't you on your way to get a drink? I think I'll join you and get some food." He looks around at the other guests, who have all gone quiet watching the scene. "Nothing more to see here.. Carry on."

[Nurumaiel]

"Yes," she repeated, suddenly finding her tongue. "Please do call me Galadh. Just don't call me Gwend, and if you hear anyone saying that name, Gwend, find me and tell me at once, because it's my brother. He doesn't know I'm here, and I'm not even sure if he's here, but he said he was coming here, and, well, I'm chasing him. He wouldn't let me go with him because I wasn't a man."

The bar was beginning to empty and everyone was returning to their seats. The noise was almost unbearable for Galadh, for the inns back in Gondor, at least near her house, were relatively quiet. She'd only been in a noisy inn once before when her father took her to Minas Tirith. That was loud, she thought.

"Well, now you know my story," she said, sitting down and leaning back. "I mean, why I'm here in the Shire. What business does an Elf have in this land of the halflings?"

[ February 09, 2003: Message edited by: Nurumaiel ]