The Green Dragon Inn - Part 3

[Snowdog]

Signing the Inn log with his nearly unreadable Tengwar scrawl, the style was closest to that of the northern Dúnedain, he put Fornost down this time. Looking at the innkeeper, he nodded and said,

'Thank you, it will only be for one night.'

...and he walked slowly toward the fireplace where she had pointed.

The din of converse in the common room was hushed when a wounded woman came through the door and fell to the floor. Silvanis paused as others rushed to her aid, then continued to the table. Moving the chair to the side of the hearth, he removed the wet cloak and lay it out to hopefully dry by the fire. Sitting and sipping the ale... it was refreshing since it had been months since he had any, he savoured the taste and settled to relax. The sound of a hot meal not cooked by himself in the wild was appealing, and a good cleaning and bed will be a welcome change to the spots of sleep he was used to.

Silvanis brushed back his long greying hair with one hand while the other dug inside his vest to find his pipe and a tattered leafbag. Digging out a little and slipping it back, He turned to the fireplace and searched the floor for a wood splinter. Finding a long skinny dropping from a log long since burned, he held it in the base coals until it ignited and used it tl light his pipe. A cloud arose about him, though it didn't smell very good. What he had to smoke was some crude wild galenas he found on a south slope in Rhuadur, obviously an attempt to cultivate the leaf from a Shire strain. Surely he could get some decent SouthFarthing Leaf here, but until then it would do.

Listening and watching unconcerned the activity surounding the sick girl, his eyes watched out for other goings on in the room. He noted the innkeeper and her questions. such curiosity she had, and one had to be careful in a place like this as to what was said, especially after a few ales. The thought caused Silvanis to pause his hand as he went to drink a mouthfull of ale, and instead it was tempered into another sip. Relaxing back, he would wait for the mid day meal and though he was silent he did take note the activities around and the words spoken by the awakening woman.

Yes, the north was a hard place, and the evil lingered much there. Her brother would have to be both cunning and strong to survive long there. Her words did perk his interest, though he didn't show it. For there was strange callings several nights when he traversed the Twilight Hills. He may have to talk with her about her trek, but later, after shem and himself, rests from the long hard road.

[ May 08, 2003: Message edited by: Snowdog ]

[The Daughter of Gollum and Shelob]

As he watched, Nannaliel was sitting in the corner reading a strange book. She was also wondering about the sick girl. This is no ordinary pub, she thought.

Suddenly, as she rose her eyes from the gripping text of her book, she caught sight of a fat little hobbit sipping ale from a glass. Is that Odo Draggins, she thought. She was aware of the dislike and trouble she caused for the visitors of the inn, but the unrest about the death of her father still heaved upon her heart.

Slowly, she got up, put away her book and approached the halfling.

[Ainaserkewen]

Dalomy tossed and turned. Her wound hurt so much, the medicin did not seem to be working. Other than the pain however, she was wide awake. She felt life back in her tired limbs and her voice was clear. She felt strange since she had entered the inn. She felt sorrow for her brother, but happiness to be alive, and on the mend.
Her thoughts drifted to her mother, alone and weeping for her lost children. How Dalomy felt she had already failed her. She must find the leader of the Dunedain, but she knew not where he dwelt. Her thoughts were suddenly interupted but a small hobbit woman coming into her room, carrying a tray of food.

"Thank you." Dalomy said simply. The hobbit had a conforting smile, and she looked over her wound.

"It's healing fast," she said at last.
"But you must be in alot of pain."

"I am." Dalomy said, though not as much as before the hobbit came in. The thought that her gash was healing, made the pain dull.

"Everyone is worried about you." Said the hobbit, placing down the tray of bread, cheese, and water. "May I tell them you are healing?" Dalomy nodded.

"I will leave you rest, call if you need anything." And she left.

Dalomy's mind was troubled. After she was well, where would she go? By herself, she could go no further in this strange land.

She would wait for news, and maybe traveling friends. With the pain dulling, she lay down after her meal and slipped into a deep slumber, where no dream entered her mind.
It would look brighter in the morning.

[ May 08, 2003: Message edited by: Ainaserkewen ]

[Laiquendi]

Lalaith watched in curiosity as the young girl collapsed onto the inn floor. She was starting to get the uneasy feeling in her stomach. She sighed, the last time she had felt this uneasy was when she was in the North with the Dunedain, they had been ambushed by wargs.

Nothing could have followed me here she thought, trying to reasure herself But, there was that figure in the woods.

She shook her head, remembering the strange figure she had come across. It was human, her elven senses had told her that much, but there was something else. Something she couldn't put her finger, or maybe even more effective, her sword on.

She sighed as she looked around the bar, looking for that shifty figure, but no-one in the room had that sense about them. She looked outside. It had become very dark, as storm clouds rolled in. The ground was already drenched and the roads turing muddy. She saw a figure to the left of the window. Across the road and moving swiftly. She turned, as another tall figure burst into the inn. He had a scar running across his face and he had lost an eye, as his socket was left bear and gaping. He held a short sword in his scarred hand.
The others turned, shocked and scared, as he swaggered in. They all knew that he could use his weapons.

"Lalaith" he sneered. His voice rough. Everyone turned to face Lalaith, but found her gone. The door to the inn was open and her cloak gone. Shocked they turned back to where the man had stood, only to see the back of his cape as he left the inn, joined by others.

The cook walked out from behind the bar, not sure of what to make of this whole scene. Closing the inn door she walked over to the table that Lalaith had been sitting at. On it lay five golden coins and a note, written in a neat script.

Please take these as an apology for a situation that I could not explain. I hope to the Valar that none were hurt and I thank you for your generosity. I hope that if I return you see fit to welcome me again. And I promise that no harm will befall any of you.
Namarie
Lalaith
Herald to Thranduil
Herald to King Elessar
Sister-daughter to Gil-Galad

[Gorothlammothiel]

Stepping down from his steed Soronume once again laid his feet on familiar ground. It had been some months since he had been to this inn, his last journey had led him further than he had imagined it would.

Soronume took several small steps forward before stopping a few feet from the door of the Green Dragon Inn. Turning his head he looked back to the tree that he had sat under on his last visit, remembering the friends he had made, and now lost.

A sharp pain shot to his side and he clutched his stomach as it grew tight. No visible mark left from the wound but it went far deeper than that. A memory so near to his mind and heart flashed back to him from the perilous quest to Cirith Ungol, a memory of the moment his companions fell alongside him.

At that moment the door of the inn opened and a hobbit walked past, staring at Soronume. As the pain loosened it's grip he stood more upright and smiled at the small crature. What more could anyone do than stare at this worn figure? Having always had the look of a well travelled ranger, Soronume's latest adventure had left him injured and alone. His clothes were ragged and his cloak torn where he had cut a small patch away to bind a companions wound. His elven air , dark hair loose past his shoulders and his deep eyes were of the few traits that would leave him recognisable to an aquaintance of past.

As the hobbit grew distant Soronume made way to the door, still lightly holding his side. Pushing the door open and bowing his head he glanced around the room. It was how he had remembered it to be. Busy, warm and welcoming. Gently brushing past a few standing elves Soronume reached the bar where he took seat, silently.

[ May 08, 2003: Message edited by: Gorothlammothiel ]

[Tinuviel of Denton]

Niniel approached the bar, finally deciding to ask for something else to drink. Ale always fogged her mind, it made it hard to think. Niniel always avoided fermented beverages, it was too easy to lose control of her emotions and of her tongue. Aman seemed to be somewhat busy, so Niniel waited quietly without sitting down.

There was a man there, as silent as she. He looked tired, worn. He cradled his abdomen as though it pained him. Niniel wanted to ask him if he was all right, but she felt that she had said and shown too much of herself for one day. It frightened her, this new openness. It wasn't what she usually did, and Niniel was a lady of habit. Habits that had kept her alive.

The man at the bar doubled over with pain. Before she quite knew it, Niniel had reached his side and was supporting him. When he could sit up again, she moved away self-conciously. The man's eyes were frightening, so deep, so dark. So full of memories, of pain.

[Wolf Larson]

Chali sat in the corner silently, watching all the inn's activity. His young eyes darting from one creature to the next.

Everything was new to him the hobbits, the elves and their flowing cloaks, the old gaffers and their aged wisdom, the young welps and their anxious dreams of grandeur and renown. Though if nothing else his father had taught him not to speak out unless great nessecity or courtesy required it.

So Chali sat in a corner silently, watching all the inn's activity.

[ May 08, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[ May 09, 2003: Message edited by: Wolf Larson ]

[Wolf Larson]

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[ May 08, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Envinyatar]

‘Silvanis, is it?’ Derufin nodded courteously to the man, then tipped his chin at the chair opposite him. ‘May I?’

The man looked up at him questioningly. Derufin smiled. ‘I work here at the Inn. The erstwhile stableman, if you will.’ He nodded toward the window, outside which the wind still gusted, sending flurries of thick wet snow swirling through the air. ‘I took the liberty of stabling your horse. Rubbed him down, dried him off. Left him some early sweet grass with which to pass the time. A handsome mount, if I might say so. Got your name from the Inn Log so I could tell his owner what I’d done with him.’

A passing server smiled sweetly at Derufin as he took a pint from her tray, paying her with a wink from his glinting eyes. He sat down in the chair opposite Silvanis, and putting his tankard on the worn table top, pulled out his own pipe and pouch of pipeweed. ‘Wild galenas, eh?!’ he remarked, wrinkling his nose a bit at the pungent aroma of poorman’s pipeweed. ‘Here, try some of this, if you’ld like. Southern Star.’

He held out the pouch to the man . . .

[Nerindel]

After Léspheria had left to look for Aman, Lóthaniel and Fawain had sat and watched as People hurried to the aid of a young woman who had fainted by the door. "I do not search for my brother now, I search for the leader of the Dunedain, for my brother seeks him." the pair heard the young woman say, they looked to each other suprised. "she said she had come from a village in the north, then she must have got lost" Fawain said. Lóthaniel nodded in agreement, following her line of thought he continued "she must have already passed him for surely he would have went to the rebuilt city of Annúminas, the new stronghold of the Dunedain", "unless of course, by leader of Dunedain she meant King Elessar himself" she finnished, knitting her brow in a puzzled expression."I think we must speak with this young woman ere we leave" Lóthaniel whispered, Fawain nodded her agreement.

They watched as the woman was taken to her room. As the hobbit that had been tending her passed Lóthaniel grabbed her gentle by the arm asking "that young woman, what room is she in?". The hobbit glared at him sucpiciously "I think we can help her find her brother or at least direct her to someone else that may know something." he added quickly. The hobbit looked at them both wondering if she should tell them or not They look friendly enough she thought to herself, maybe they can help her. The hobbit then proceded to tell them what room the girl was in. "but don't you go disturbing her today she is in need of much rest" the hobbit told them in a voice that told them that she would not tolerate other wise. with that she returned to the kitchen.

"We shall go up tonight then." Fawain asked, "yes" Lóthaniel nodded. Fawains stomach gave a loud grumble, she looked down "time for lunch I think" she laughed. It was now late afternoon and she had had nothing to eat all day.

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

Léspheria had been unable to locate Aman, She must be personally attending to the casks she chuckled to herself. She peeked into the kitchen, where a young hobbit was busily preparing the midday meal,she was trying to make sandwiches and stir soup all at the same time, it wasn't going well Lésperia couldn't help but let out a small chuckle. The hobbit turned to her with a Flustered look on her face, Léspheria lowered her head apologetically. Suddenly she felt the Hobbit pulling her over to the stove that had a big pan of wild mushroom and nettle soup on it "Stir this for a minute " she was saying. "B..but I..Im just looking for Aman" she stammered. "you just missed her" the flustered hobbit said heading for the door "I'll be back in a second, I'm just going to bring cook back" she cried as she went through the door that lead to the bar.

Lésperia looked at the pot before her, the wonderful smell of the soup filled her nostrils, she couldn't help taking a sip hmmmmm, Perfect she thought to herself.
She turned the heat down and continued to stir, just then the door opened again it was the hobbit returning with another taller, well built, sturdier hobbit behind her presumably the cook, but before they could reach her there was a cry from the common room "help me".The cook opened the door a crack and peered out.

‘Well, if that don’t beat all!’ She said calling for Buttercup to bring the smelling salts. ‘Some woman’s gone and fainted dead away by the front door . . .’ and again they where gone. The Soup was just about done so she turned it right down and shrugging she decided to help the pair futher by finnishing off the sandwiches that the hobbit named Buttercup had started.

[The Daughter of Gollum and Shelob]

Nanna felt out of place as she crouched by her book. Not that she was an attention seeker. It was just she wanted to help. Who was the strange woman who fainted, she thought.

She saw that there was nothing for her to do, so she approached the sandwich-makers.

"Er... can I help you?" she stammered. With that sentence, she obviously wanted a sarnie herself...

[Wolf Larson]

Chali pondered about the woman falling and the elves who so quickly departed their table after that. 'Shall I go over and take a look into it', He thought, "Surely they would be watching me as well. I had best keep my peace for a while longer."

"Yes, you shouldn't go off now as I have just arrived." Chali turned abruptly to the source of the voice and was startled. "Derin! Dear Derin! Whatever brings you to the Shire?"

[ May 12, 2003: Message edited by: Wolf Larson ]

[Snowdog]

Silvanis looked up at the man who approached, and wasn't too suprised when he spoke his name. This Inn had a way of news spreading about, and he mentally noted that fact. Silvanis nodded and made a slight motion with his mug as he raised it to his lips, silently saying the chair is open. A sip of ale and a thunk of the tankard on the table led to Silvanis saying to the stableman,

'I am somewhat suprised she let you do all that, but then the hard road and long days have been telling on her as well. Her name is Blackveil, and she has a high spirit when she wants to. But I think you may have won favor in her eyes with your gentle care. Be sure to free her to the grasslands before dark or she will have your stable in an uproar.'

Silvanis took another sip before looking at the man turn his eye toward an approaching serving wench. Silvanis went on to say,

' You have me at a disadvantage for your name does not appear on an Inn's log for me to read.'

The stableman grabbed an ale from her tray without paying, so he seemed to have the wench's favor, or at least was taking advantage of a perk of being in the Inn's employ. Silvanis let out a large cloud of his harsh smoke before tamping it on the nearby hearth, when the man offered some of his smoke. Neverminding the facial commen he made of the reek of his ragweed, Silvanis heard him say,

"Here, try some of this, if you’ld like. Southern Star."

As he held out the pouch, Silvanis nodded with a slight smile and took it.

"The name's Derufin."

he said as he offered the smoke and the pouch changed hands. Dipping his pipe into it and coming out with a overflowing bowl, Silvanis slid the pouch back to Derufin and again used the small tinder to torch the leaf up. Offering the stableman first light, letting it burn in a sweet aroma, Silvanis quickly lit his own. A relaxing draw put a smile ln his face as the bluish-grey smoke arose in a haze about the table lamp.

'Good leaf Derufin!'

Silvanis said as he drew again. It had been a few months since he had some Shire leaf...

'Can you locate a good plug of it I could buy?'

Silvanis was relaxing and sipping his ale again, he noticed the stableman again turned to eye the serving wench as she made her rounds. Silvanis looked about the Inn and saw the busy innkeeper caretake the place and ready to serve sandwiches. People coming and going through the door and all the goings on of the inn were strange, but then again Silvanis always had this trouble re-adjusting to being around people after being out in the wild for so long.

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

[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman was feeling rushed off her feet. Since when did the Inn become so busy? Cook was very helpful, but in her busy, efficient way, she made Aman feel about as busy and efficient as a chocolate teapot. She made her way into the kitchen, where she saw one of the guests, bending over a pot of soup.

"Good gracious, may I ask why one of my guests is helping with the meal?" She asked, feeling once more probably as embarrased as the elf. Lesperia now spun around, ladle in hand, like a child caught stealing pies, but recovered beautifully.

"I was stirring the soup, it was starting to boil at the edges."

"Thats fine, thanks." Aman spied the sandwiches and her eyebrows raised in surprise. "You were helping with the sandwiches as well?"

The elf smiled and nodded. "They're pretty much done, there are plenty there."

Aman started at her and returned the smile. "Well thankyou, thankyou very much! Well...I'd better get around to serving these out then."

"I'll help you. I havent anything else to do. I gather you are a little short handed at the moment?" Lésperia asked conversationally, picking up a tray.

"Hmm, yes, it seems that the Hoardes have arrived all at once!" Aman smiled.

"Well, I believe I will be staying a bit longer. While I am, would you like a hand around the place?"

Indeed, this elf had fallen from the Gods themselves! "That would be fantastic!" She picked up another tray and turned towards the door, hoisting it open with a complicated foot movement and holding up it open for Lésperia. Through it came another elf, who Aman recognised with a groan as being Nannaliel. She forced herself not to close the door again.

"Er... can I help you?" she stammered.

Aman goggled. Good grief, what was happening to the world? First the gods gift to Innkeepers offered to stay for a few days, then an being who was practically homicidal decided to be helpful. She nodded and indicated the tray. Nanna picked up a tray and followed.

Splitting up they began to weave around through the Inn's customers, offering sandwiches. Aman tried her best to meet and greet as many of the newcomers as she could, until she saw a figure near the bar who looked somewhat familiar, but Aman had no idea why. She made her way around to the man and offered the tray.

"Sandwich, sir...?" She offered.

"Soronume." He looked up and smiled, taking one of the offered sandwiches. Aman went on, "So where is it you come from?"

"From Mirkwood, Lady....?"

"Aman. Mirkwood you say? I have an friend, living in the forest. I think you may have heard of her- Tallin, Tallin the wolf tamer? Wolfsoul I think they may call her."

[Wolf Larson]

"Oh, not too aweful much," Said Derin seating himself acroos form Chali. "I am looking for that brother of yours and some of the locals direted me to this establishment. Though I don't see him around anywhere."


Old Derin Bloodgaurd, always true to his name and true to his freinds, chali hadn't seen the old dwarf for ages. Ever since he and his brother had left their home in the mountians.

"I didn't know he was in the area," Chali replied, looking his good freind over. "He probably isn't, you know how he hates crowds," Derin said with a smile that illuminated his face hideing some scars and revealing others.

"So my dear Derin, how has your colony been lately? I want to know everything" Derin gave a pale shine of his eyes and said, "To tell you all you wish to know, I'd need more ale than you and I can afford, and more time than either of us have to spare my freind. But I can say we are doing quite well, your mother is in good spirits and excelent health, the price of our iron has increased 5-fold, and all is well with our side of the world."


Chali soon realized that even though the Dwarf would fein to stop his story, it would continue deep into the night and possibly into the early morning. So he resigned any thoughts of leaving for the morning.

[ May 09, 2003: Message edited by: Wolf Larson ]

[ May 09, 2003: Message edited by: Wolf Larson ]

[Gorothlammothiel]

Soronume looked straight into the eyes of the young maiden who had offered her hand then moved away so quickly. "I'm sorry my'lady. I did not mean for my appearance to frighten you, nor did I intend for my injury to cause you any inconveinience. There is no need to recline so quickly" He gave her a soft smile, as much as he could manage as the pain lingered on. The maiden stepped forward, seemingly more relaxed though still unsure of this stranger.

Soronume gestured for her to take seat at the bar. His pain was fading and he sat more upright. "My name is Soronume and I am not such a stranger to these parts as I may seem" he looked down on his worn clothes. The maiden spoke softly, "Niniel, my name is Niniel" "Then greetings Niniel" he replied.

Niniel looked down to Soronume's side. He raised his hand away and to the counter. "There is no wound, just a pain, more of memory than anything else." Once again the maiden seemed lost in his gaze...

[Nerindel]

Léspheria merrily wondered around the room handing out sandwiches and cheerfully introducing herself to the guests. When she reached the table her brother and Fawain where sitting at she heard a loud rumble then the pair burst out laughing, "Here I think you could do with some of these" she laughed handing them both some sandwiches.
They both thanked her."that was fast" Lothaniel laughed. "yes, it seems they were more shorthanded than we thought" she smiled happily.

Lóthaniel and Fawain then proceeded to tell her about the young woman that had fainted and about her looking for the leader of the Dúnedain, to find her brother. "We are going to go up later this evening to see if we can help her" Fawain said, she nodded taking in everything they were telling her. "She may even wish to travel with us to Annúminas to meet with the Dúnedain there" Lóthaniel said. "So when will you be leaving?" she asked trying desperately to hide the worry in her voice. "At first light" they both replied in unision, making Lespheria laugh despite her worry.

Looking up she saw other people without sandwiches. "try the soup" she winked at them as she left. Suddenly remembering that she had the room key in her pocket, she balanced the tray of sandwiches carefully in one had and reached into her pocket removing the key and tossing it to her brother saying "First floor, just a few doors along to the right." He caught it laughing "see you later then".

As she continued to walk around the room with the last of the sandwiches she caught the unmistakably sweet smell of southern star pipe weed wafting through the room. She looked around for the source of the smell it was coming from two men sat by the fire, she walked over and offered them the last of the sandwiches. "hmmm, Southern star" she said inhaling the sweet aroma and smiling warmly. Putting the tray on a small table next to them, she extended her hand saying "My name is Léspheria Denfëa from Rivendell and I shall be helping out around the inn for a time". still smiling she asked "Do you mind if I join you?"

[ May 10, 2003: Message edited by: Nerindel ]

[Aireore]

A small figure slipped in through the inn's door. It wore a long gray cloak, dirtied at the ends, and worn brown breeches. It settled itself at a table in the shadowy corner, and ordered a single glass of wine.

The figure took off the hood, and it revealed a young elven maiden, her waist-length hair wavy and chestnut-colored. Her pale face was streaked with mud. She hunched over, watching the commotion going on, and slowly drank her wine.

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

[Tinuviel of Denton]

Niniel came back to herself with a start. The stranger, Soronume?, seemed to expect an answer. She wanted to ask what wound could still pain even after it was only a memory. Then she thought of her own wounds. Though none were physical, nor did they pain her as Soronume's did him, they were as painful, if not more, as memories than when she'd first gained them.

"How--how did that happen?" she asked, cursing once again her stutter. Soronume closed his eyes. Niniel wanted to kick herself for asking a question that was so insensitive. She tugged at her hair and looked away, blushing.

[Sophia the Thunder Mistress]

Morwyn sat motionless on her stool at the bar. Nahai was staring blankly at the wall, as she'd been for several minutes, and Annalaliath... Morwyn looked again. Annalaliath had cut all her hair off just below the jawline. The elf bounced her golden hair as she tapped her foot on the floor. It actually looked quite nice, once one got over the shock of seeing it gone.

Morwyn sipped reflectively at her coffee. She'd heard Lalaith refer to the creature that had asked her the date as a Balrog. She'd heard of several of the events he'd mentioned and knew they belonged to the far past. She looked askance at it and pushed her chair a little farther away.

At the appearance of the miruvor bearing elves, Morwyn's eyes lost their glassy look. Pio had had twins, she'd nearly forgotten in all the commotion of the night past. She watched the elves drag the casks of liquid into the inn with fascination. This place never got dull. She wanted to learn to sketch she thought. She walked over to Annalaliath and asked shyly, "do you think you could teach me to draw like you do?"

[Nurumaiel]

With a cry of delight Nurumaiel clattered down the stairs and threw her arms around Eruantalon's neck. "You're back!" she cried. "Hurray! It's so good to see you."

She looked at Rie. "And I'm forever indebted to you, Rie, for letting me know he was back. I've been so busy that I haven't been checking up at the Dragon."

She turned back to Erulon with a grin. "What about a drink?"

[Snowdog]

As she continued to walk around the room with the last of the sandwiches she caught the unmistakably sweet smell of southern star pipe weed wafting through the room. She looked around for the source of the smell it was coming from two men sat by the fire, she walked over and offered them the last of the sandwiches. "hmmm, Southern star" she said inhaling the sweet aroma and smiling warmly. Putting the tray on a small table next to them, she extended her hand saying "My name is Léspheria Denfëa from Rivendell and I shall be helping out around the inn for a time". still smiling she asked "Do you mind if I join you?"
``

'Please do Lady Léspheria Denfëa of Rivendell.'

Silvanis nodded, stood and smiled as a hand took the pipe from his lips while the other took her hand gently.

'I'm Silvanis of many places and I am pleased to meet you this day.'

he spoke softly as he stepped toward her to pull the chair from the table.

'And I thank thee for this sandwich, for it os the first food I've had in many months that I had not prepared myself.'

She sat and he moved her chair in to the table slightly before returning to his seat.

'Surely Lady Léspheria you know Derufin. for like you he is in the employ of the Inn.'


Silvanis relit his pipe with another small tinder, and noted the fire had burned down some, so he turned and lifted a fair sized log from the pile and set it amongst the embers and log ends. The flame started to grow with some sizzle and pops, and Silvanis watched as its orange glow complimented the dim table lamps. The draft was leaking a little smoke for the wind was blowing at a fair pace outside.

Sitting back down and tipping the last of his ale, Silvanis looked to Lady Léspheria and said,

'So what brings Lady Léspheria from fair Rivendell to work at this Inn? And maybe you could remind the busy innkeeper I have yet to aquire a room for the night, or can you assign me one yourself?'

Silvanis motioned his empty tankard to the serving maid in a sign it needed refilled. She came by with a pitcher and poured a foamy helping before him...

[Nuinatariel]

The elf-maiden Lëowen brought her midnight-black horse, Raven, to a halt, stopping before a small inn named the Green Dragon. She led her mount to the stables, and after making sure the horse was comfortably stabled and fed, entered the inn.


Lëowen felt immediently at home in the inn. It was cozy inside, with a scattering of guests at various tables around the room. Lëowen had never been in the Shire before, as her home was in Lóth Lórien. Bored and restless at home, she had taken to wandering. Eventually, she had found herself here.


It was nice to have a roof again over her head. Mostly Lëowen stayed and slept outside, and this would be a pleasent change. "A room for the night, please," she asked the person behind the bar. After taking her room key, Lëowen found an empty table and sat down.

[Katt b]

A fairly small and delicate young woman approaches the Inn looking hoplessly lost she glances up at the sign and decides to enter.The doors swing open and she cringes the smell of smoke is strong in the air."Umm Excuse me can anyone tell me where I am, I seem to be quite lost?"

The small girl? walks up to the bartender "Excuse me but could you tell me where I am"As she reaches up to brush her hair away from her face you can see she is not a girl but an elven girl.
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You need to read the Red Book of Westmarch for the rules for posting in the Shire (It is the first topic in the Shire Forum)

Basic rule is: Every post must be a minimum 2 paragraphs long with each paragraph 2 sentences minimum.

Try to be as descriptive as you can in your post - tell us what your character looks like, is doing, thinking, etc - how she sees the world around her. Be careful when using dialog that it doesn't encourage chatty posts. Try to keep your language and ideas fairly Tolkien centered, and don't let too much modern wording creep in.

~~ Piosenniel, Shire Moderator

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

[Nerindel]

'Surely Lady Lésperia you know Derufin. for like you he is in the employment of the Inn'

Léspheria looked to Silvanis saying "alas no, I have only this very afternoon rendered my services to the good Lady innkeeper and as yet not had the Pleasure of meeting it's other staff." A mischevious smile spread across her face as she turned to Derufin saying "It is a pleasure to meet you, I am sure we will get to know each other better during my stay."

'So what brings Lady Lésperia from fair Rivendell to this Inn? And maybe you can remind the busy innkeeper I have yet to aquire a room for the night,or can you assign me one yourself?"

She turned back to Silvanis, the Mischevious smile now replaced by one of warmth and friendship. "To your first question" she replied "I came here delivering a gift from the Lords Elladan and Elrohir for the Lady Piosenniel the previous innkeeper, to celebrate the birth of her Twins. But it seems now that I am to remain and attend the Naming ceremony as a representitive of Rivendell." She stopped for a moment to look at the pair listening to her intently, " seeing that I would be staying for awhile I decided to make myself useful and offer my services to Aman" she said nodding in the innkeepers direction.

"As to your room, I will see to it that you are not forgotten" she laughed lightly.

She then put her hand in the air beckoning Aman over to their table. As she waited for the Innkeeper to join them she asked Silvanis "So what brings you to the Green Dragon"

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

[Wolf Larson]

Chali was awakened abruptly by Derin's failed attempt to sneak in to his room with a note. "Leaving so soon? We have only covered a year or so back, I have been gone for two."


"I know," Derin began to say sheepishly, "But among all the talk yeserday I remembered how urgently your Brother was needed, so I asked around and your brother was spotted only a couple of miles from here. So I thought I'd leave you this note by your bed and be off quick."

"Then by all means leave the note and be off now, for I am still asleep." Chali said cooly, giving the dwarf another of his famous smiles. Derin proceeded to silently place the note by Chali's head, and tip-toe as best a dwarf can back out of the room.


I need to get up now, Chali thought to himself, never know when you might be needed. He then proceeded to dress and to wash his face.


As Chali stepped out of the room he smelled the sweet scent of breakfast and ale wafting up. He entered the room found an open table, and feasted on the smells.

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

[ May 11, 2003: Message edited by: Wolf Larson ]

[ May 11, 2003: Message edited by: Wolf Larson ]

[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman walked over to the table where Lesperia, Derufin and Silvanis. She wasnt keen on being beckoned like that by the elf, but then she had offered to help around the place.

"Good day all." She nodded to them.

"Is it possible I can get a room?" Here Silvanis spoke up.

Aman turned to him. "Im sorry, I thought Cook already sorted you out in that area?"

Silvanis shook his head, and Aman shook her head. "Must be me then. I've had a few things on my mind recently." She inclined her head towards the bar, indicating that Silvanis should follow her. "One of the first floor rooms I think. This one has a view out to the Shire, a very pretty little room. Alright?"

Silvanis replied in the affirmative and Aman went on, using the businesslike tone she had picked up from Cook. "5 silver please, paid in advance, thankyou. Meals are included, but drinks are not." She rolled her eyes, giving a mock sigh. "Get a few too many sly, old hobbits taking advantage of that one!"

Silvani grinned, digging in his pockets and coming up with a leather pouch from which he found five silver pennies, dropping them into Aman's slim hand. She smiled back, then slid the Inn Log over the bar. Snowdog signed his name in scrawled Tengwar script.

"Thank you...Aman, was it?"

"Thats right." Aman slipped the silver into the wooden till under the bar then turned back to Silvanis. "So, what brings you to the dragon? Have you travelled far?"

[piosenniel]

Please be aware of this new change in Barrow Downs policy:

There is a new rule from the Barrow Wight:

All profiles are now limited to storing no more than 10 Private Messages (PMs). If you currently have more than 10 in your profile, people will not be able to send you new PMs. To receive new PMS, you must have 10 or less stored in your profile.

This was done because PM traffic was accounting for almost as much as public traffic.

We cannot contact you if you do not clear out your PM's.

Thanks! Pio

[Annalaliath]

Annalaliath, restless despite the coffee, got up(battered sketchbook in hand) and she walked around looking for some good people to sit and draw. When she found them, Lesperia, Derufin and Silvanis, she promptly took out her bits of charcoal, that she kept in a pouch at her side ,and stated to draw. Every now and then she would look up and then look back down again. She would stop and put her now short golden hair back behind her elfish ears. Her gray eyes darted from table to page, table to page, then from one face to page and then another. Her fingertips were becoming black and she smudged her and then again there. And her hair fell into her eyes again. As she put it back behind her ear a long black smudge of charcoal made its way from fingers to cheek. She continued to work now and then taking sips from her coffee mug that sat next to her on a stool.

Annalaliath found these people interesting. Maybe not in conversation but in their stances and looks. She paused for a second or two(or was it minutes or a lifetime) and looking at their eyes, she wondered," what can they be thinking, what is their motivations?" Her gray blue pools met those of Lesperia. Annalaliath then went straight back to her drawing and contemplated her thoughts as she drew. Then out of pure habit she ran her fine white fingers through her short golden hair, leaving black charcoal streaks in it. She sipped her coffee, and hoped that she had not been noticed in her drawing.

[Gorothlammothiel]

Soronume looked back down upon the maiden who now seemed akward having asked the question he had done well to avoid for so long.

"Be not uneasy lady Niniel. Your's was such a question I shall have to become accustomed to answering, and you the first to hear the reply" He spoke softly, and with a smile to try and relax Niniel. "But before I tell of my..." Soronume hesitated, then continues with a laugh, "...adventures, will you not take a seat with me?" The maiden smiled back and took seat next to the elf.

"It was not so long ago I parted this land, and this very inn with a dear friend. It happened to be that as we were walking we became involved in a 'mis-hap' and then continued to embark on a quest with a small company. What madness took us to join a quest to Cirith Ungol still remains a mystery but nonetheless, a few weeks later I found myself alongside others fighting against the spawn of Ungoliant."

This last comment appeared to have made the maiden uneasy and Soronume promptly hesitated. Perhaps this wasn't a tale the maiden wished to hear of. Niniel shifted in her seat. "My lady, before I continue, that is you want me to do so, I can get you a drink? I know my own thirst is sizeable after such a journey."

[Nerindel]

Fawain and Lóthaniel sat for what had seemed like hours. Lóthaniel had pulled out a tattered old map of the blue mountains, it was faded and worn in places but the majority of it could still be made out. They had then poured over it discussing possible routes and plans for the rescue.

Lóthaniel looked up from the map to his companion, her soft grey/green eyes were lined with worry and her brow creased studying the map. At that moment he just wanted to scoop her up in his arms and tell her everything would be okay, but how could he let her know how he felt about her when they were just about to rush into danger.

He Suddenly realised that Fawain was talking to him, She hadn't looked up from studying the map but she was saying "It is getting late in the afternoon and we must think to getting provisions and packing for the morrows journey." "Yes, I think you are right" he said picking up the map and carefully folding it up and putting it into his breast pocket.

As Fawain stood up Lóthaniel took her arm gently and they left together to see too their gear.

[Meoshi]

Daethaur followed Fawain and Lothaniel out of the room. While they were sorting to their gear, he walked up to them and tapped Fawain on the shoulder. He felt silly, but also felt some sort of strange desire to find out what they were doing and help if possible.

"I noticed that you were examining a route through the Blue Mountains. I have lived there for many long years, and if you need a guide, I can help."

[Tinuviel of Denton]

Niniel flushed, and nodded. Was she that obvious? It appeared so. Well, then, she'd simply have to control herself better. What was it about this inn that made her lose her guardedness. A tale like Soronume's wouldn't have made her blink in the old days.

Spawn of Ungoliant. Giant spiders. She shivered. Little, ordinary spiders were bad enough, but a spider big enough to eat her for breakfast was too awful a thought. Niniel steeled herself for the rest of the tale.

"Please, Sor--soronume. Con--continue." Thrice-cursed stutter.

[Wolf Larson]

When Chali was quite through and ready for another day. He wandered out through the musty exit and down the lane.

About an hour or so later he returned, supporting a masive brown bag in his forearms, he propmtly took his load to the sanctitiy of his room.


Once safely inside, he took out a short silver knife and a knotted peice of wood, and began to whittle. Chali Whittled and whittled on that wood, until clearly visable was the form of a hobbit's head, and them the shape of a body was carved out and perfected.


He then went over his hobbit fixing the length of his nose and shortening his pipe handle. Until finally his creation was complete a 1/8 scale hobbit, as promised for the farmer's wood.


The finished hobbit set gently aside, he began to make carvings of other guests and people he had seen on the road this morning.
Hobbits, men, a few elf women, and some birds made it into his portrayals, all part of the massive place he called his world.


As he whittled his mind wandered back to days gone by when he was with the dwarves and when he and the stronger ones would spare off. Of sitting in the caves listening to the tales of former glory, of many great battles where Dwarven renown was won.

[ May 14, 2003: Message edited by: Wolf Larson ]

[piosenniel]

Point of Information for posters:

At this point the Green Dragon Inn is in the Fourth Age, about year 13. Elessar is King. It is mid-summer (although the weather seems to be somewhat freakish, as we just had an unexpected snowstorm).

The Ban against Big Folk has been somewhat relaxed in the Shire for purposes of this 'game', and all sorts of creatures from Middle-earth are seen passing through the Shire and visiting the Inn.

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

Please remember to be familiar with the Rules for posting in the Shire games and Inn that are laid out in the Red Book of Westmarch - the first topic in the Shire forum.

[Maegaladiel]

Nahai shook herself out of her trance. She felt like she had been sitting at the bar, staring into space for days, yet it was still early or late morning. She looked down at the breakfast Annalalaith had ordered for her, taking a greatful bite. She was hungrier than she thought.

Chewing slowly, she looked back at the elven woman. Her new haircut suited her very well. The now-short strands of gold hung down into her face as she sat hunched over her sketchbook. Nahai took a quick peek over her shoulder at her latest creation. By Valar, that woman was an excellent artist. She stared down at her own hands, wondering if she could coax them to create such beautiful pictures. She seriously doubted it.

My, the inn seemed busy all of the sudden. Nahai was somewhat glad, as she felt that people were no longer staring at her as they were last night. The elf Nanna had returned, but she seemed to be busy elsewhere. Now everyone was paying attention to the new cook and a poor woman who had fainted the moment she walked in the door.

"Morwyn," she said, suddenly eager to start a conversation, "You said something yesterday about getting into a bit of mischief. What did you have in mind?" Taking a sip of her now-cold coffee, she waited for Morwyn's reply.

[Annalaliath]

Annalaith continued to draw. Her fingers were black from the charcaol, her nails were black bracause of the charcoal. She looked up from her work, sensing that someone was watching her, snd saw Nahi looking over her shoulder. In a mischivious manner that shocked most that saw it she looked at her blackened fingers. With a devious smile she slapped herself leaving a hand print that remained on her already streaked face.

Annalaliath turned back laughing, the stinging in her cheek almost gone. The light in her blue-gray eyes would light up even the darkst of moods. She put down her sketch and her charcaol and looked at Morwen, " Yes what was that about mischif?"

[ May 12, 2003: Message edited by: Annalaliath ]

[Arawethiel]

Arawethiel strode down the stairs with her pack slung across her shoulder. It was time for her to depart the Green Dragon and continue her duties as a messenger. She had already tarried long enough and surely the other villages were getting impatient to receive their letters from Bree.

She smiled to the patrons and waved good-bye to the new innkeeper that had taken up residence during her stay here. Perhaps on another visit Arawethiel would get to know Aman better. Taking one last glance around the room she strode out the door and began her journey anew. With a refreshed spirit Arawethiel tread on enjoying the warm summer day. She had a feeling that she would return to the Green Dragon once more and held no doubts that she would have another enjoyable stay.

[Tinuviel of Denton]

Niniel tugged at her hair nervously. Soronume seemed safe to trust, but could she be sure? No one in her experience had been so easy with her, even when she did mindless things such as blurting out a question that could only have a painful answer. His story seemed to pain him almost as much as did his wound.

Niniel reached out her hand to him, stopping just short of putting it on his shoulder, then pulled it back with a jerk. Such a familiar gesture should only be used by a family member, or a close friend, she thought. She took a step back and blushed.

Soronume took her hand and gently pulled her back onto the seat. Gently. There had been precious little of that in her life. Last night and today had been the most confusing, and the most pleasant, she could remember.

[Snowdog]

'Ah, from Rivendell.'

Lady Léspheria, spoke of the sons of Elrond, which he had not seen since the war. They had made the journey through the path of the dead and battled and won the fleet of Umbar with Aragorn, and though they were victorious over the darkness of Sauron, much pain still lingered, though mostly in memory. He looked to Lady Léspheria and said,

'How are the sons of Elrond? It has been long since I have seen or talked with them.'

Another came over to the table, and thinking he had not paid, he pointed to his name already signed and the amount paid.

'I only need the key for a room, for it has all been paid.'

Aman looked at him with a scowl, and and reluctantly nodded. Silvanis aquired a room key and Aman described its view and all, and Silvanis nodded and thanked her. He did then examine his remaining coinage and saw it was quite low, so he paid her for the second ale and stuffed the bag away.

Turning back to the fair elf Léspheria, and having the attention of Aman, both wishing to know my business in the Shire. For it seemed that ones business in a Shire Inn was to be everyones. Silvanis smiled and leaned back in his chair, taking a drink of his ale he then spoke.

'I have been up north, in the icy wastes hunting. It was a good hunt of the great white wolves that linger there, and I have many a skin and fresh meat packed. I am going south to trade them for goods uncommon here in the north, and will again return in two years time to the north. I have come west to this Inn, for rumor had it that it was the only part of the Shire open to men, and I always wished to see the land of the halflings. Usually I will be found at the Forsaken Inn east of Bree, though I hear there are plans to tear it down for a new east road.'

He stopped and sipped again his ale and looked about the Inn, which seemed filled with mostly fair women. Silvanis decided when he finished his ale he would retire to his room and clean up. But there was still plenty in his tankard. So he went on speaking,

'It has been a fair summer, yet a cold breath followed me down from the north, making this cold rain this day. But surely it will return to the seasons warmth come the morn, and maybe this fire wont be necessary.'

Silvanis asked if he could partake in another bowl if the Suthern Star, thinking he would use some of his last coinage to buy some while in the Shire.
~~`
(OOC: Thanks for the setting piosenniel. I qued on a previous post about the unseasonal weather and used it. I had not the time to read 14 pages of Inn talk since I will be on my way shortly.)

[The Daughter of Gollum and Shelob]

Nanna overheard their conversation. She remembered the fair faces of the sons of Elrond. The wonderful memories of Rivendell still floated in her head.

"The sons of Elrond, you say?" she asked. Aman looked at her crossly. "I have known them... and their sister, Arwen. Wonderful people, very."

Nanna also wondered what happened to the brothers after the war. "Does anybody know what happened to them after the war?"

[arelendil]

No, it couldn't be. He disappeared long ago on that night. But it was, Soronume.

Once more the door had opened and shut without Elwen realising but this time it had let Soronume in. He was seated not far away on a stool by the bar. Talking with another. Her face brightened at the thought of such a good, old friend. His Quest it seems had taken him futher than he thought. but no matter, he was back now.

With her usually fluid movement Elwen slid out of her chair at the corner table and floated over to the bar. Her footsteps making no sound. She stopped silently behind Soronume and smuthered a laugh with her hand. Elwen reached out to tap him on the shoulder but he was too quick for her.

He caught her hand in his, and turned setting deep piercing eyes on her. Elwen's eyes flashed with star light as she laughed.

"What gave me away old friend?" Elwen smiled as he released her from his grip and turned round to face her.

"I remember the sound of your footfall well." was his only answer before, indicating a seat on his left.

"Won't you join me?" Elwen spoke softly. "All of you?" now turning to the people that Soronume had been speaking with. "There is a table in the corner beside the fire. It is more comfortable than perched on stools at the bar, and there we can all introduce ourselves properly." Elwen smiled and gestered to the table she had just stood up from."

[Nerindel]

Feeling a gentle tap on her shoulder Fawain looked up from her pack. There before her stood a tall dark skinned man, clad in robes darker than the night sky itself, but it seemed to her that there was also a faint red glow about him.

"I noticed that you were examining a route through the Blue Mountains. I have lived there for many long years, and if you need a guide, I can help."

Hearing the man speak she suddenly realised she was staring at him. 'How rude of me' she thought feeling her cheeks burning with embaressment. But she had never meet anyone who looked quite like him before and she wasn't quite sure what to make of him. 'But we could use someone with knowledge of the mountains and he may even know of some secret ways we may have missed' she thought to herself. Finally convinced she reached out her hand saying "my name is Fawain and this is Lóthaniel of Rivendell, indeed we have an errand of great importance in the mountains and we...." Lóthaniel grabbed her arm, none to gently, stopping her from continuing. She looked at him more than a little annoyed that he had grabbed her so hard.

Lóthaniel had stood up when Fawain had introduced them, he too was staring at the unusual man before them. There was some familarity that he could not quite place, he watched the dark stranger as Fawain began to speak "indeed we have an errand of great importance in the mountains and we...". He grabbed her arm, a little harder than he had intended and the scowl on her face showed that she was not pleased, but he wanted to know more of this stranger before telling him of their errand and weather he could be trusted to be a reliable guide.

So turning back to the man he said "You said that you once lived there, but surely no man lives there through their own choosing,especially now that Skaikrish the Maimer resides there. So what brought you there and why did you leave?" Lóthaniel tried hard to keep the distrust from his voice and eyes, after all he had offered to help them.

Fawain suddenly realising Lóthaniel's reackoning, now felt slightly embaressed. She had almost blurted out every thing to a complete stranger. Again she was glad Lóthaniel was there to keep her right.

"And your name..., you have not yet given us your name" she added.

[Hapman]

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Hapman strolled back into the pub. He had fallen in love with the cheery atmosphere, and after sleeping outside that night, he needed a good ale. And some water.

"Aman," he shouted, trying to make himself heard. "Any chance of a basin of water?"

"Sure," she yelled back.

Soon, Hapman was washed and had a fresh ale, ready to irritate more gloomy customers. He had promised himself he'd only stay one more day here. Whether he'd keep that promise was yet to be seen.

He wandered up to an elf and tapped her on the shoulder.

"Niniel, wasn't it? I believe you wished to talk to me?" He held out a hand and shook her slender palm. "Can I buy you a drink?" he asked. "Oh, that reminds me. I must sell some more of those damn paintings. I need some more cash. I wonder if Aman would buy one? Well, anyhow, I'm Hapman." He turned to the bar and enquired Niniel's choice of drink.

[Sophia the Thunder Mistress]

Morwyn's eyes glittered as Nahai turned back to her. "Mischief..." she rubbed her hands together with anticipation. It had been so long since she just amused herself like a girl. But then she shook her head slowly. "I didn't have anything particular in mind. But I'm certainly in the mood to liven things up a little!"

Nahai put on a mock innocent face that wouldn't have fooled a two year old hobbit. Annalaliath and Morwyn giggled, Morwyn pushing her hair back out of her face. "You'll have to do better than that, friend, or we'll be caught before we've even begun!" Annalaliath said to her. "I've heard mischief-makers get set to washing dishes around here."

Nahai shrugged. "What's a few dishes in the name of good fun?" the three leaned over the table closely and spoke together in quiet voices.

As they spoke Morwyn grew more and more annoyed with the hair that slipped down in front of her eyes. Snatching her smooth stick from her pocket she pulled her hair back and secured it firmly. The other two girls shot her curious glances. "Now I'm ready." she grinned. "What shall we do?"

[The Daughter of Gollum and Shelob]

Nanna, by this time seriously bored, decided to join the girls in their activities. She approached Morwyn and asked her, "Excuse me, if I were you, I would not move anywhere. Look outside."

She pointed a long, slender finger towards the window. The clouds were an angry black, and rain was hammering the windows.

"I suggest a game of Shire poker." Aman took out a neat pile of cards out of her pocket. They were a brilliant green. She began to shuffle harmonically. The others watched in silence.

[Maegaladiel]

"Shire poker?" Nahai repeated slowly, the unfamiliar name rolling awkwardly off her tongue. She looked to Aman, who was shuffling a deck of green cards. Nahai had seen men playing some sort of game with similar items before, and now she struggled to remember what it was they were doing. One man was yelling about being cheated out of his money.. Ah yes, it was a betting game. Money. Nahai's cheeks flushed red.

"I am somewhat shy of funds at the moment." she explained lamely. She needed all the money she had to pay for her stay at this inn, as well as any other establishment she happened upon on her quest. And as for betting items, she had little worth giving up save her ring, and there was no way in this world or the next that she'd risk losing that.

"Perhaps I'll watch, though," she said, suddenly feeling very alone. Her gaze drifted over to a dwarf that sat whittling miniature elves, hobbits, and men. He seemed to be thourgholy absorbed in his work, perhaps recalling the tales that went with each piece. Her green eyes widened as she saw how beautiful and intricate each carving was.

"You are very talented, Master Dwarf." she commented to him. "Do you make these for profit, or amusement?" Her cheeks once again flushed red as she realized her forewardness. "Forgive me for prying, good sir. I am Nahai. Of..." Her voice faltered. "Of the Beornings." The words sounded strange. But why should they? It was the truth. She should not try to hide her heratage, and people in this place (for the most part, anyway) seemed most open-minded. Besides, this dwarf was carving elves, an act that most dwarves would think most unspeakable. Therefore, he couldn't be that steriotypical, right? Hoping her fuzzy logic was somewhat on target, she waited for his response.

[Ainaserkewen]

While resting, Dalomy had very strange dreams.

I dreamed that I was on top of a grassy hill, covered in strange gold flowers. I was with my mother and brother on the top of this hill, but far beneath us, on the ground, were my father and two brothers. Rangers who were killed in battle. They looked at us as smiled. My father waved us to join him and I felt an overwhelming urge to, but my mothers hand wouldn't let me. But my brother was stronger than I and ran down to meet them, when a fog separated us and I could not see them anymore. The urge stopped and I looked at my mother who pushed me down the hill into the fog, then I saw no more.

Dalomy closed her journal and looked around her small inn room. It had been days since she'd ventured from it. Her arm was healing and was covered with clean white bandages. She did not feel dizzy anymore and could pace about her room. She made a quick decision and left out her door. It was time to start her quest proparly and have a good breakfast.

Many things were happening down in the common room. Lots of talking and drinking and music. Dalomy, suddenly remebering that she was far from anyone who loved her, was shy. She sat in a corner and closed her cload around her. She did not order yet, but she tried to hide herself from these strangers.

Could any of them know my brother? Or the cheif of the Dunedain? She wondered silently. She decided to hang back until she felt comfortable. Although the desire to start her search was tremedous, so was her fear.

[Gorothlammothiel]

"There is a table in the corner beside the fire. It is more comfortable than perched on stools at the bar, and there we can all introduce ourselves properly." spoke Elwen softly.

Soronume's heart lightened at the sight of his old friend. He stood and nodded to Elwen with a smile, and then turned to Niniel. "Would you care to join us my'lady? It would be a great pleasure, for the Lady Elwen here is an old and great friend of mine, from when I was here once before." Niniel seemed still nervous, but the sight of Soronume's smile seemed to comfort her as she realised she had caused him no great lasting pain.

She stepped forward with Soronume and Elwen, only to be disturbed by another character who caught her attention by tapping her shoulder then continuing to talk on. The maiden didn't appear to know this figure so Soronume stepped in.

"Excuse me sir, this lady already has a drink, there is no need for a another. Not yet." The man turned back to Soronume and Niniel. Elwen too had stopped not far behind them but was now making her way back to Soronume and his new friend.

[Nerindel]

Lésheria was not suprised by Silvanis's question as she was just thinking that he had the look of the dúnedain about him, but she was not entirely sure. But before she could answer Nanna approached them saying "The sons of Elrond, you say", "I have known them... and their sister Arwen". Now this totally suprised her she did not recognise the elf and she thought she would have remembered if this one had visited Rivendell, but there again the Elven lords travelled much and met many other travellers.

"The Lords spend much time in Gondor at the council's of King Elessar" she told them. Thinking quickly that she didn't what to be asked any questions regarding the boring details of council she decided to lighten the mood. "but it's all just a rouse, so that they can check up on their beloved sister" she laughed lightly. "But they still ride with the Dúnedain especially the ones that returned to Annúminas when it was rebuilt." she added smiling remembering the countless adventures she and her brother had had with the Rangers.

Even as she smiled a sadness could be seen in her grey eyes, as she remembered that her Brother and her good friend Fawain and some of those same Rangers would soon be riding into Danger and she had to just wait for their return.

As She listened to Silvanis's tale she quickly scanned the room, looking for the pair. but they were already gone, she knew they had not yet left the inn as they would not leave without saying goodbye. they must be packing she thought to herself.

She turned back to Silvanis giving him her full attention, this man intrigued her, she wished to know more of his tale. She noted that Nanna and Aman had left to play shire poker. She could contain her suspicions no longer "are you of the Dúnedain?" she bluntly blurted out, she lowered her head and blushed embarrassed saying softly "I'm sorry for prying but it is just that you have that look about you".

[Meoshi]

"Daethaur. Daethaur is my name. Indeed, I have not heard of this Skaikrish. When I was last in the Blue Mountains, the High Elves and Rangers were hunting the Orcs from the mountains. They must have missed something if the mountains are infested once again."

"I left the mountains because I had lived there long enough. It must have been thousands of years since I entered it."

"So what brought you there", he pondered that point for a moment. He had already given away his age. He couldn't claim to be a Man. An Elf was doubtable. He might as well tell them. "I was one of those Ainur who foolishly fell into the service of Melkor before the Ages of the Sun. I fled from his service shortly before the Great Battle, and lived in the Blue Mountains since then."

"There are many and great passages there, far below even the ruins of Nogrod and Belegost. The Orcs do not even know they exist. These you could possibly use to reach any part of the mountains with great speed."

[The Harpest]

Opening the door timidly, rosy cheeked lady poked her head around the door to take a peek around the Inn. With a tiny curve of her lips, she stepped inside and almost laughed aloud with delight. She leaped aside from the doorway to make room for others coming in, clasped her hands in front of her and was surprised at how dirty her dress had already become. The soft, flowing material of her pink dress had been torn and splattered with mud, but unfortunately was still quiet recognizable as having once been pink.

With a little trill, she approached the bar and asked for some water, reminding herself that her coin purse was light. She sipped her water and thought of all that had happened to her, though she had been gone but two days. More excitement than she had had her whole life. She wanted to be sure to remember these events, even if she was caught in the end and since she was never taught properly how to write she would have to improvise. Finding a seat and flipping back her auburn hair, she pulled a piece of charcoal she had found out of the little leather bag she carried. With the paper under her hands, she made the first line and began drawing the inn and it's inhabitants. Already, carefully folded away in her bag, she had her drawings of her first night in the woods and the market where they had accused her of stealing.

While she was drawing, she paused to wondered if maybe the man from the market was here. There were many people, and some of them cloaked, it was hard to tell but it would have been quite the coincidence had he been. She had a picture of him too, as he confronted the vile merchant. As she remembered the event, she frowned, remembering how she had never gotten the opportunity to thank him and he deserved her thanks if not more.

[ May 13, 2003: Message edited by: The Harpest ]

[Nerindel]

Fawain looked to Lóthaniel totally convinced of Daethaur's explaination, she hoped that Lóthaniel's mistrust would not deny them this great advantage, to her suprise Lóthaniel was laughing "Indeed truely you are a gift from Eru himself" he laughed "Come join us for our evening meal and you can tell us more of these secret ways, and we can tell you why we journey to the mountains."

The three of them entered the common room, "I've been told the soup is good" Fawain laughed spying the bowls of steaming hot wild mushroom and nettle soup now at the end of the bar. They took their soup and some bread and sat down at the nearest empty table.

While eating Lóthaniel and Fawain recounted the tale of how Skaikrish had escaped from mordor, killed Fawain's mother, A Ranger of Ithilien. Then of how Fawain had killed Skaikrish's Mate and how he now held her father, A captain of the Dúnedain rangers of Annúminas. As Lóthaniel finnished the tale Fawain lowered her head hopeing that neither companion would she her tears.

[Tinuviel of Denton]

Niniel smiled shyly at the newcomer. Soronume had called her Lady Elwen. Did that mean the elf was nobility? Hopefully not. Niniel had no idea how to act with her if she was noble. She envied the beautiful woman, who was so familiar with Soronume.

Not that Niniel was unnattractive herself. Her hair was long and thick, a rich mahogany brown. Her face was heart-shaped and perpetually melancholy. Her lambent blue eyes sparkled, but the glitter seemed to be unshed tears rather than merriment.

She was almost grateful to Soronume for intervening, for she had no longer any idea what she would say to the omnicheerful Hapman. Indeed, she found him somewhat overwhelming. Soronume's gentle smile was soothing, Hapman's wide grin was almost frightening. At least to Niniel, who expected cruelty from the stronger as a matter of course. And Hapman was, indeed most men were, much stronger than the petite Niniel.

She slid into the seat that Soronume held out for her and smiled again. This time, her smile held more relief than nervousness. Elwen had welcomed her as Soronume had. Niniel's fears of being shunned by the people in the inn were slowly dying.

[ May 13, 2003: Message edited by: Tinuviel of Denton ]

[gothmog35]

Outside the Inn a cold northern wind was blowing and a thick fog was moving in as well. The patrons standing outside didn't even notice the dark cloaked man until he was less than a meter away.

Startled, one of the men drew his blade and demanded the stangers name. " Peace friend", the stranger said. " My name is Angrod and I come from the lands North and West of, what you know of as, Erebor. My people were once part of the tribes you now know of as the horse-lords of Rohan. I am journeying to the edges of the Western sea and am in look of shelter for a while. Have I found such a place or am I to move on through the night"?

The startled man then put away his blade and spoke. " Nay, anyone who comes in peace is welcome. Go now and warm yourself and gain your rest."

" I thank you and indeed I shall. Farewell for now." Angrod spoke as he stepped out of the cold and entered into the warm inn.

[ May 13, 2003: Message edited by: gothmog35 ]

[The Daughter of Gollum and Shelob]

Nanna, still shuffling the cards, saw the man. He was strikingly handsome. She wondered if he would play poker with them too.

"Excuse me," sha asked. "Would you like to play Shire poker with us?"

The wind outside was whistling loudly. Nanna started dealing out the cards to Nahai and the other girls who were present beforehand. The green of the cards resembled that of the clothing of the man. Nanna looked at him with awe, biting her lip with shyness.

[arelendil]

Ahh the table. Elwen gently ran her hand across the worn surface and wondered how long it was that she had sat here.

Elwen flicked her dark hair out of face. the plait done so swiftly before was coming out and loose hair was falling in waves framing her face. Elwen smiled at the new comer seated with her and Soronume. Elwen studied the maiden for a moment, the maiden was pretty. Elwen sighed out of contentment and pleasure. Her eyes of blue sparkled with star light as she realised she finally had something to do. Introductions then!

"I am Elwen, a maiden of the stars as my name implys but i am of no noble line for i do not truly belong on this earth. Soronume was just being polite as always." smiled Elwen at the two before her reading the maidens thoughts. "Greetings and welcome to the inn, i hope your stay is long and happy. There are many good friends to meet here. None will ignore you, though a good many may not introduce themsleves, when you speak to them they are friendly enough."

Elwen looked round the table. Who would go next she wondered. New people always interested Elwen but this maiden especially. Soronume had a way of choosing friends and she wondered what it was about this maiden that had caught his eye.

[ May 14, 2003: Message edited by: arelendil ]

[Tinuviel of Denton]

Niniel felt an inward surge of relief at Elwen's words. So she wasn't noble. And there seemed to be nothing more between Elwen and Soronume than friendship.

"I--I'm--you can call me Niniel. I was--well, I was liv--staying in the mountains, I'm--I'm not entirely sure which--which ones. Then the orcs--there were so many. So I left. And I--I came here." Niniel inwardly cursed herself for sounding like such a half-wit. She studied the top of the table intently. Surely Elwen would look down on her now.

Instead, Elwen smiled. "You are welcome here, Niniel. Won't you tell us more of yourself?"

Niniel looked back at Elwen. This was too much for her to understand. Welcome? Her? The idea was completely foreign to her. She was a thief, though admittedly she avoided using her skills when possible. She was a stranger.

Niniel had been alone for years. The welcome of these people overwhelmed her. The tears that before had been merely hinted became a reality. She didn't sob or cry out. The tears simply welled up and spilled over her cheeks.

[Snowdog]

"are you of the Dúnedain?" the lady Lésheria asked, then looking apologetic. Silvanis looked at her gently and said,

'Worry not of your questions, for if the answer I wish not to give, I will not. But you are perceptive, for I am of the line of Halvaris, who was a guardsman of King Arvedui of old and who was lost upon the ice with him.'

He did not speak of more of his line, for there could still be some hard feelings between the elves of Rivendell and his father. But surely in these times after the defeat of Sauron there could be peace? He had never found any news of what happened to his father and only got ill looks when his name was mentioned in Rivendell.

Silvanis went in a little more of himself to Lésheria...

'Though the line was thought lost, it had come to be that Sían, daughter of the Chieftan of the Lossoth, conceived and bore a son. The birth of the boy Sívaril was spoke over by the chieftan that so the doom rested upon his father, so to it would rest upon the line. This is family lore passed down through the many generations since the time of King Arvedui, yet in so much it holds true of the fate of my fathers. Yet, as the line of Elendil persevered through the years to King Elessar, so to does the line of Halvaris, from father to son.'

It was good to hear of the brothers Elladan and Elrohir, and he would have to call upon the King sometime. But the thought of the war and the death would come, and though he wondered of the other Rangers he rode with, thoughts always come back to Halbarad, and his brother Hayna, and not remember the glorious triumph upon the Anduin and the Pelennor fields.

Silvanis brushed his long greying locks from his face, realizing he was dwelling in his mind wit this fair company there, and he looked at the Lady Lésheria and apologized.

'Pardon my lapse m'lady, for I have not been around people in many a month. Do tell me of yourself if you wish it.'

Silvanis sipped his ale, watching the features of her face as she pondered his words.

[Hapman]

Hapman snapped his arm down by his side and nodded at Niniel. He thought her rather rude to talk to her then snub him like this. But he couldn't show it.

Just keep smiling, he thought to himself. Go talk to Aman. She'll calm you down.

He marched off to the bar and sat down rather heavily. Aman looked over at him. He looked back, feeling a flutter in his stomach. Turning round and staring at the counter, he prayed she'd come over.

[Burzdol]

THERE IS TO BE NO FIGHTING IN THE INN OR ON THE INN GROUNDS -SAVE THAT FOR YOUR RPG'S

[ May 14, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman saw Hapman sit down and smiled over at him. His face transformed into a mask of surprise, and froze. Then he seemed to attempt a smile and...a little wave?!

Aman's smiled turned to a grin and she went over to talk to the jester, when she heard the sound of raised voices near the door. She listened to the story the young man had told, and thought it lovely. Perhaps if it was written down...she started to move around the bar to talk to this man, to tell him she had liked it, when another voice spoke.

"You stupid, that's not true."

"It is to."

There was a flurry of action and, to Aman's horror, swords. She didnt waste a second. Pulling something out from under the bar, the threw it forward with such force that it spun through the air, before burying itself in the opposite wall. The action stopped immediately, and the man names Juire looked up to see a sword buried in the wood less than half a foot above his head.

"I will have none of that in here!" Amans voice quivered with indignation, hands on hips, like a schoolteacher addressing an unruly class. One hand however, was now reaching under the bar, and the old time customers shuffled back slightly from the bar- they knew of the existence of the thick, mahogany club Pio had kept underneath and which had stayed there.

"Get out and sort yourselves out! This instance! When you're quite ready to be decent hum-" she checked herself but carried on smoothly. "Decent people, you can come back in. Leave your weapons outside and if you arent prepared to shape up- dont you dare touch that sword or you will never draw one again!" The man who had reached for his sword hurriedly withdrew it in the face of the angry Innkeeper.

"Out! Any wounded, bring them here. Otherwise, get out!"

The abashed men shuffled out, muttering among themselves, but not too loudly. One or two looked like they might say sonething, before their eyes fell on the club Aman was now cradling in her arms. They took their wounded with them, incidentally, and Aman was glad of this- she wasnt sure she could deal with them without once more losing her temper. She took a deep breath, and counted to ten with her eyes closed. She opened them slowly and let out her breath again. She smoothed over her hair with a hand, making sure the bun was still neat, replaced the club and turned back to Hapman.

"Yes, Hapman?" She inquired politely to the stunned man.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami stood at the door glaring at the retreating figures of the Rangers. As one of the moderators in the Shire, she was very, very upset.

She turned around and snapped at the rest of the assembled guests, "Aman's right! They know better than that. There will be absolutely no fighting in the Inn for any reason whatsoever. Save your fighting for the RPGs.

Then she yelled at the retreating Rangers. "You will not be allowed back in the Inn until you do a stint washing dishes in the back. I'm not kidding! And if I see one more post, even a tiny one, that so much as mentions starting a fight, it will be summarily deleted." She held up Pio's club, which was almost as large as she was, and brandished it threateningly in the direction of the rangers.

[Annalaliath]

Through the chaos, Annalaliath excused herself from Nahi and Morwen saying," I shall return." then she leaned in and said pointedly," don't do anything without me." Annalaliath walked over to the newcomer, (The Harpist) drawing in the corner. Looking over her shoulder Annalaliath watched as the lines flew onto the page. Annalalaith's face still had the charcoal smudges and the charcoal handprint. Her fingers were still black from the medium and she watched as this other drew without noticing the Elf behind her.

Annalaliath breathed lightly and stood as quiet as possible, just watching. The girl in front of her was oblivious for the moment. But still Annalaliath watched. Finally she looked back to Morwen and Nahi and motioned to them to come and look. She took sips from the coffee that she had brought with her, holding it with her arms folded, casually looking over the girl’s shoulder.

And then she sneezed! A mighty sneeze, one that seemed to rock the small area of the Inn that she was in. This sneeze seemed not to come from an elf but an Ollophant. Charcoal dust shook from her cloths and hair and her coffee sloshed, but did not spill. “Uh… excuse me,” he said quietly before breaking down into a pool of laughter.

[ElentariGreenleaf]

After Aman had finished giving the two people a lecture about no weapons in the inn, a young Elf walked over to where Aman stood. However, being quite shy, the Elf said nothing.

"Hello," said Aman kindly. "If you would like a drink, the bar is over there." Aman pointed to where the drinks were being served."

The Elf stayed silent for a while, but spoke, rather suddenly, and with some speed. "I'm sorry, I was trying to work out, if you are, are you Aman?"

Aman was taken aback by this sudden outburst. "Yes, I am Aman. You do you ask?"

"My friend sent me here. She said that the Shire is a nice place, where the hobbits live. I've always been fascinated by hobbits, you see. Elentari said I would love it here."

"Elentari? Ah, how is my old friend?" Aman's eyes were smiling, as she watched the young Elf struggle to find the right words. An Elf fascinated by hobbits? It was not much of a surprise, but the Elf, why she was so young. How could she know of hobbits?

"Elentari is fine. In fact, she's better than fine. I'd say she's more healthy than ever."

"I see. That's good to hear. But, you must tell me your name, young Elf."

The Elf smiled. "Please forgive me Aman. It slipped my mind completely. I am Cetfleogan, but I prefer to be called Cet, because my full name is a mouthful even for me."

"Welcome to the Shire Cet," said Aman. "Well, you should fit in fine here. Why don't you go and talk to some hobbits?"

Cet shuffled slightly. "I would, but... well I'm so shy. I'd probably blurt out a whole string of questions, asking them what the Shire is like, and about hobbits and their ways."

"They won't bite," laughed Aman.

Cet smiled. She really did feel as if she was fitting in already. She let Aman get back to her duties, and set about finding a hobbit to talk to. Her dark eyes could see many hobbits, but most were talking to their friends, and she didn't want to intrude. Cet brushed a bit of her brown hair out of her eyes, and headed toward the bar. She had seen a nice selection of drinks on the way in, and was quite thirsty.

[piosenniel]

THERE IS TO BE NO FIGHTING/VIOLENCE IN THE INN. THIS IS A LONGSTANDING RULE AT THE GREEN DRAGON.

SAVE IT FOR YOUR RPG'S.

[Gorothlammothiel]

Soronume noticed the tears of silver fall down Niniel's cheeks, as did Elwen. "Why do you cry my'lady?" he asked her, "are we that bad company you cannot bear reveal anything about yourself to us?" he finished with a smile. Niniel didn't reply but brushed away the tears and tried to force a smile back.

Soronume offered a comforting hand to the maiden's back. He knew of little else to do, for he was inexpirienced with relationships and friendships. He too had been alone for the last few years, except of course that 'quest'.

Niniel still remained silent, something which seemed to linger at their table for a short while. Soronume watched as Elwen twisted the loose strands of her hair around her fingers and Niniel looked out into the busy room. Soronume found himself thinking back to years past, and the memories of late which seemed all to familiar.

A kindly voice brought Soronume back to the inn, "Mani naa ta Soronume?" It was Elwen who spoke to him and her tongue caused Niniel to look upon Elwen with surprise. "Nothing Elwen" was his sombre reply, which she did not appear to believe but he quickly changed the thread of conversation, shaking off the last of that unwelcome memory.

"My'lady," he said turning to face Niniel, "have you not more to tell us of yourself, as the lady Elwen earlier enquired?"

[The Harpest]

She jumped at the sneeze, coming out of her concentration and it wasn't until then that she noticed the elf behind her. Her heart jumped to her throat at the first surprise then her cheeks heated when she realised the elf had been watching her draw. Quickly she folded the drawing and put it with the others, looking up at the elf.

"It's not very good, I could do much better if I had the propre tools." she said, standing and moving around her chair. "Good day, I am Devnet, clan-"

She stopped and smiled inwardly, thinking in was time to toss out any formal introductions. Time to break in some casual greetings. Cheerily she reached into her skirt pocket and took out her richly embroidered handkercheif, wiping the charcoal off her hands.

Offering her hand, the woman smiled "Call me Dev."

[Silmarien]

Amarantha Mudruffin, a blue eyed, auburn-haired hobbit, strolled into the Green Dragon and ordered a glass of cider. She hadn’t been here before, but she was a rather audacious girl (her mother being ¾ Took). Also this was still the Shire and she felt quite at home.

She sat down at the bar next to an elf who looked rather lost. Turning she introduced herself. “Hello, I’m Amarantha Mudruffin. Who might you be and what might you be doing in these parts?”

[Tinuviel of Denton]

"My'lady," Soronume said, turning to face Niniel, "have you not more to tell us of yourself, as the lady Elwen earlier enquired?"

Niniel tried hard to smile, she really did. Crying was not something that she usually did so easily. It was very tempting to just walk away and spare herself the distrust that was certain to come once she revealed her trade. But that wouldn't be fair to either Soronume or Elwen. She swallowed hard and forced herself to look at Soronume.

"Yes. I--I am--by trade, I--I'm a thief." Before they could respond, she hurried to add, "I don't--I don't steal when--when I don't have--don't have to. I--I don't like to--to steal when the--when the person might--might be as badly off as--as I."

Neither Elwen nor Soronume said anything for a long moment. "If--if you want--if you want me to--to go away, I--I'll understand." She started to rise.

[Nerindel]

Léspheria listened intently to Silvanis's recount of the lore of his fathers. He had paused and she perceived a sadness in his eyes, born of loss and hardship, she had seen that look on so many of the Dúnedain she had encountered in her long years. For their hardship was indeed long and wrought with much loss. Silvanis brushed his long greying locks from his face as he apologised for his moment of thought.

'Pardon my lapse m'lady, for I have not been around people in may a month. Do tell me of yourself if you wish it.'

She pondered his words wondering were to begin,After much thought she began " I was born into this world at the beginning of the third age. I was brought up in Rivendell by my parents, I knew nothing of the lands outside of Rivendell until I came of age. My mother taught me Embroidery, Dress making, Cookery .... et cetera, all the things a lady should know." This last line she spoke with an exasperated tone in her voice. " I learned Horse riding, herb lore, hunting and archery skills from my father" she smiled happily recounting the memories of her and her brother hunting in the woods around Rivendell with their father.

"In the year of my Coming of age I learned the history of my people, shortly after that a great sadness came over me for what reason I still know not. At that same time I started to have dreams... visions.... call them what you will." At these words Léspheria's soft features contorted into an image of deep pain.

Silvanis placed a comforting hand on her arm, urging her not to continue if the pain was to great. Her features softened at the look of concern on his handsome face and she shook her head saying "It's ok I'm fine, It is time that this tale is told"

Taking a deep breath she continued, "In the visions I saw myself bent over two wounded Elves, I could not see their faces or tell how bad their injuries. But I could see myself working relentlessly trying to heal them. At first I thought nothing of them, as at the time I was training to be a healer. But the dreams became more vivid and it soon became aparent that I was in the midst of some battle there were Men and Elves fighting side by side against Orcs, Hill-men and other unspeakable creatures and always the dream ended with a dark shadow looming over me and a sharp pain in my shoulder. At the time I still had no idea what it meant, but after about a year the dreams ended and I dwelt on them no longer.

Léspheria paused stopping a passing hobbit she recognised as being an employee of the inn, " may I please have a large mug of warmed cider and what ever my friend is having" she smiled pleasantly, the the rosy cheeked hobbit returned the smile nodding and telling her the cost of their drinks. Léspheria opened a small leather pouch that hung from her waist and handed the appropriate amount of coins to the halflings eagerly waiting hand, she closed her pouch and turned back to Silvanis to continue her tale.

"Now were was I, oh yes the dreams. As I said they stopped and I thought on them no more. But in the year 1975 of the Third Age As my brother and father were preparing to follow Glorfindel to war against the Witch-king of Angmar, the dreams returned and more frequently and more vividly than before. This time I could see the faces of the two elves I was trying to save it was the faces of my own father and brother. I had tried pleading with my father and brother not to go but they would not listen until I told them of my dream, but they did not see it as a portent of their own doom but of mine, so they forebade me to leave with them when I begged to go. I sat in my room alone pondering this vision, I stayed their for three day trying to figure out it's meaning. I was being given a choice, I figured in the end, yes, to choose to remain in Rivendell and sail to Valinor at a time of my choosing, but at the cost off my father and brothers lives or to disobey my father and go to Arnor and save their lives and forfit my own? I choose the latter I could not forfit their lives I loved them too dearly to even consider staying and letting them die.

I stole a horse and my mothers sword, packed all the healing herbs i could find and set of at once. Once I reached the battle I thought I would never find them. But the vision had showed me exactly were they would be, there were many dead and dying, mostly the enemy. But I managed to find them. Ignoring the battle around me I set to work. They were both unconscious and at first I feared that I was to late, but looking closer I could see that they were still breathing. I could not recognise my father at first as his face was covered in his own still warm blood, that was coming from a wound to his head and face. He also had an arrow sticking out of his left shoulder, As I pulled it out I realised it was Poisoned and I feared the worst, I worked quickly finding the herbs that would counter the poison. I made bandages by ripping the material of my skirts. I cleaned the wounds and dressed them as best I could then turned my attention to my brother his wounds were minor, gashes to his arms and chest and whelting to his right cheek were he must have been hit hard by something or someone?
I cleaned him up and was applying the makeshift bandages when a shadow fell across me, thinking my death was apon me I defaintly turned to meet it, my mothers sword in my hands. There towering over me was a hideously ugly orc bearing down on me with his sword, I lifted my mothers sword to block the on coming blow but having never used a sword before in my life the creature easily disarmed me. I stood there thinking this was the end when suddenly from out of nowhere two arrows hit the orc dead in the heart, it let out a horrible howl as it fell to the ground. I looked around and I saw a Tall dark haired man walking towards me, then I felt a sharp pain from my left shoulder, I looked to my shoulder and saw a black arrow sticking out of it and then I fell to the ground." Léspheria rubbed her left shoulder remembering the pain and the scar she still bore, a few tears rolled down her soft cheeks but she continued.

"When I awoke I was back in Rivendell and both my father and brother were well and sat at my side, there also was the man who had saved my life, His name was Dalwain and he was a Captain of the Dúnedain. After I was well again I tried to continue my life as it had been before the battle of fornost, but I grew restless and travelled more and more with my brother and the Rangers. Dalwain taught me their ways and how to use my mothers Short Sword, that she let me keep."

She Looked to Silvanis, again wearing a soft warm smile she said " that is a part of my story that made me the person that I am today, I still ride with my Brother and the Rangers of the north, when I'm not acting on behalf of my Lords."

Just then the Hobbit returned with their drinks, they both thanked her and Léspheria took a long draught, she felt the warm liquid coating her now tight and hoarse throat. She put down her mug and wondered if Silvanis had any other tales to tell.

"you look to have had many an adventure yourself, you must have a story you can share" she smiled hopefully.

[ May 14, 2003: Message edited by: Nerindel ]

[arelendil]

Elwen took the maiden's hand and gently pulled her back down to her seat.

"Do not hurry off." smiled Elwen, "Do not let us judge you too quickly. a thief is no bad trade. i know many a noble thief with a heart of gold. A dear friend he was to me before he travelled over the western sundering seas. A hobbit by race, perhaps you know of him? Most seem to, his name has become quite famous."

Elwen laughed at the thought of past times. Memories so glad she could not help but smile at them.

Elwen glanced at Soronume who nodded kindly. Elwen's voice was warm and sweet, she released her grip on the maiden's hand as she spoke to her. "Perhaps you would like to explain to us how you came by this trade?"

[ElentariGreenleaf]

Cet turned to the face the person who had spoken to her. "You.... you're.... you're a hobbit!"

"Well, this is the Shire," laughed Amarantha.

"Pleased to meet you Amarantha Mudruffin. My name is Cet. My friend Elentari told me to come here."

"Oh, why did she dod that?" asked Amarantha.

"Well," replied Cet. "Hobbits facinate me! So I suppose I've come to learn all I can about them. Do you come to the inn often, Amarantha?" Cet took a sip of her drink and waited for Amarantha's reply.

[The Daughter of Gollum and Shelob]

Meanwhile, Nanna was tired of dealing cards. No one was interested in the game anyway. So she put her cards back into their box.

She saw the young hobbit. She still had a picture of hobbits in her mind, especially Odo Draggins. That wretch. Perhaps the halflings of the Inn knew something about him. Well, you never know.

"Excuse me?" she asked the hobbit Amarantha, who smiled. "Do you know anyone called Odo Draggins? If you do? please could you tell me where he dwells?"

Amarantha looked surprised. Nanna forgot to introduce herself.

"By the way, I am Nannaliel. Call me Nanna." The hobbit smiled sweetly, as all hobbits did.

[Sophia the Thunder Mistress]

Morwyn watched as Annalaliath went over to the girl, Devnet. She exchanged glances with Nahai and shook her head. "That girl has talent."she shot the elf another glance. Annalaliath was eyeing the newcomer suspiciously. Morwyn hoped the two artists would get on well, once they got to know each other.

Nahai nodded thoughtfully, her gaze still following the elf with the shuffling green cards. The two suddenly looked up at Aman's enraged outburst at the strangers who'd been fighting. Morwyn's face went rather pale at the sight of the sword quivering in the wall near the men's heads, and Cami brandishing the club. "Perhaps now isn't the best time for mischief..." she said uncertainly.

Nahai followed her gaze to the sword buried in the wood paneled wall. "Perhaps just a little fun... if it was very good natured?" she said in a cajoling tone. Morwyn met her friend's eyes and giggled.

"Perhaps just a little." she said. "But we must wait for Annalaliath to come back, of course." She rubbed the side of her nose with one finger, the mischievous gleam back in her eyes. She sat like that for a while, her eyes wandering the room critically.

Finally she threw her hands up, "I simply can't think of anything!" she said to Nahai in a loud whisper. Nahai was laughing silently so hard her face began to turn red, but through her laughter she gasped,

"Morwyn, you are so obvious! We'll be caught for sure... Perhaps Annalaliath can think of something."

[Maegaladiel]

Nahai's breath caught in her throat as the silver streak flew across the bar and embedded itself in the wall between the two fighting Rangers. As the room fell silent, she made a mental note never to be ungentlewomanly to Aman.

"Nice aim," she commented weakly. Then she turned to Morwyn, her face looking slightly paler than it was a moment ago. "Now would definately not be a good time for mischief."

"What shall we do then?" asked Morwyn. "We must wait for Annalalaith, but I do think we should have us a bit of fun." They looked to the two elven artists.

"Let's hope those two don't run into any differences in artistic opinions. I hear charcoal wounds can be quite nasty." Nahai laughed. The image of two elven maidens dueling with sticks of charcoal popped into her head. She knew Annalalaith would never do anything like that, but it did prove to be quite an amusing picture.

"But what to do?" Nahai scratched her head. "Know any good stories? Oh! I could give you a quick flute lesson, if you'd like." Nahai waited for her reply, trying to remember a good story or song.

[Laiquendi]

Lalaith sat on a bench near the inn. Blood poured freely from a cut on her forehead. Not far off a pile of burning carcasses lay. She shook her head.
Traps, how I hate them. She thought. The man had followed her deep into the wood, with at least several others. Springing from a tree she could take them all. They knew it too, they knew her history, and had they not been trusted to kill her before? She thought they looked familier. By others had come.

She smiled as a dark figure sat next to her, lowering his hood the ranger smiled.
"Joel" she said as she took his hand, "Thank you for your help."

His grin broadened. "How many times have you saved my life. It was only a matter of time till i repayed the favour."

Lalaith laughed. "I thought you were in Gondor. Elessar laid you off already?"

"Ha! He may be KIng, but he's always depended on me, the dear friend that he is. He asked me to tell you he's needs a herald."

"Ah, my job is never done" She smiled. "I have no buisness now. The others are dead and I'm free. But I will accept."

She stood and stretched her legs. She had left Gondor quickly, after the buisness with the assasins not only her life was in danger. If she had stayed then Aragorn's life would have suffered too. She sighed. Her bones ached and she was in need of a hot drink.

"Coming to the inn?" She asked Joel. He nodded and followed her in.

Walking to the bar she smiled at Aman. "Good evening, two hot drinks for me and my companion" She handed over the money and they sat in a dark corner, heads bent over ancient looking maps. Discussing what seemed like important buisness in elvish. Planning a route back to Gondor, with some extra route along the way.

[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman greeted the young elf, Cet, with surprise and delight. It had been a year or more since she had seen Elentari last, no time really for the elf, but a long period it seemed to Aman. Afterwards, Cet wandered towards the bar. A minute later, when Aman looked back, she saw Cet sitting, wide eyed, beside a hobbit girl and smiled to herself, despite her irritation. A fight, of that nature and that depth, in her Inn. Why, it was practically a tavern brawl, they way they had fought over nothing. Well, Aman knew exactly how she would deal with any more occurences of the like, and it wouldnt just be a sword above the head.

Placing a foot against the wall, she yanked the sword out of the woodwork where it had been quivering, and carefully lowered it. She noticed the odd looks she was recieving and smiled good-naturedly back. Nahai made a comment about it being a good shot and Aman curtsied, the picture of a lady, bar the two or three feet of finely carved steel in her hand. But all the denizens of the Inn knew what Aman would do to defend the place and its reputation- that had been a warning.

[Sophia the Thunder Mistress]

Morwyn's eyes lit up at the thought of a flute lesson. "Would you?" she asked with a large smile. Nahai nodded, and Morwyn ran upstairs to her room. The carved flute was on her bedside table where she'd carefully placed it the night before. Snatching it up she hurried back down the stairs.

Arriving breathlessly back to the table, she pushed her hair behind her ears and handed the flute to Nahai. Nahai took it and held it a certain way, her fingers covering up some of the holes and leaving others open. "This is how you hold it." she said.

[Tinuviel of Denton]

Somewhat reassured, Niniel half-smiled. For once, she wasn't immediately disliked and distrusted. But how to answer Elwen's question? How she became a thief was as much a mystery to her as it was to Elwen and Soronume.

"I--I don't know. All--all I know is that I--that I am. I know i-i-it must sound odd, but I--but I don't remem--remember anything of my life before--before my sixteenth year. Sometimes, I have--I have horrible dreams. All--all about fire, and--and loss, and fear. I--I always wake--wake up with my cheeks wet with--with tears." Tears were the least of it. She would wake screaming, in a cold sweat.

Then she asked, "A--another thief? A--a hobbit? I--I'm afraid that I--I haven't heard of anyone who--who's gone over--gone over the sea."

[Silmarien]

“Fascinate you?” she asked wonderingly. “Wha...” She was cut off by a lady “Excuse me? Do you know anyone called Odo Draggins? If you do? please could you tell me where he dwells?"

Amarantha smiled and looked surprised. The lady then introduced herself "By the way, I am Nannaliel. Call me Nanna." She smiled cheerily and answered “Well, Nanna. Odo Dragins?” she paused, then continued cheekily “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure, or the displeasure, from the look on your face.”

[Katt b]

The doors of the Green Dragon begin to open half of a very small woman can be seen. She pauses,turns and lets out a short whistle,she waits ,then amazingly a small Hawk flies out of the sky and lands lovingly on her shoulder.

She continues into the Inn ,she serveys the room and walks up to the Innkeeper.
"Excuse me, Do you have any availible rooms for me and my friend?"

[ May 16, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Laiquendi]

Joel pointed to a northern area on the map, and laughed. Lalaith almost pushed him off the chair while laughing as well. She recalled a distant memory of those mountains. In the time when Sauron had been banished from Mirkwood. With a more solemn look on his face he pointed to the north woods. Lalaith sighed and shook her head.

“Nay, we cannot pass through there. Not all the orcs of this land are gone, and there is a large camp there. How I would love to dispose of their filthy so called bodies, but alas they’re numbers are too large. Elessar knows and I believe he has a plan in mind.”

“As long as it doesn’t have anything to do with the dead, then I’m happy.” Joel answered

“Nay, it doesn’t. And you’re scared of the dead? They are but a distant remainder and memory of the past.”

“Not scared. How many times have we had to set up camp on the dead marshes? And did I not walk the paths of the Dead? Not scared. Just a little anxious. Anyway ‘tis the others I would worry about. He might be left with half a force if it involves the dead.”

Lalaith nodded. She knew all to well that not many, even in the service of Gondor, wanted dealings with the dead. They had all witnessed the destruction with Sauron, and feared seeing loved ones again. She pointed to a mountain pass.

“Here, this should be free from the elements even in winter. There is a well sheltered path and we can see the forest from it most of the time. If they make a move we’ll see it. It’s relatively easy to pass through, only a few thieves and murderers hide out there. And if they cause any trouble one elf is too much for them.” She smiled “Let alone an elf and a top ranger in his Majesties guard”

He grinned and almost pushed her off her seat, leaning over he happily grinned.
“You forget my dear friend that you are in his Majesties guard as well. And he trusts you more in Middle-Earth than he trusts his own sons!”

Lalaith laughed as his head flopped on the table. She removed the drink from his hand and laughed. Mortals! She thought Still unable to handle they’re drinks.
She smiled fondly at the ranger. He had grown up around her and she had even taught him to fight, and now he was one of the best in the land. He’s right A part of her said. And you know that’s its true. Estel trusts you more than anyone, so don’t let him down. She sighed as she finished her drink. Sitting back she glanced around the inn. She wiped the blood off her face as best as she could as it was still flowing freely. Thoughts still rushed around her head, as she spoke aloud. “I have never let him down. And I never will!”

[arelendil]

Elwen smiled kindly at the maiden. She knew how memory could be wiped away. It was always hard to be missing a piece of you. Something she was having to come to terms with herself.

Elwen laughed "I'm surprised you have not heard of this hobbit. A great thief he was. Stole from many, but never for self gain as far as I know. You must of heard of him, Bilbo, Bilbo Baggins." she laughed again, her laugh like the tinkling of little bells. "Well indeed, I thought that everyone in every race had heard of my old friend. It would please him to know that he is not quite as famous as he thought. He always was one for the quiet life, couldn't stand being known."

Elwen turned to Soronume. He looked deep in thought. "Have you heard enough or do you want the maiden to continue?" Her voice seemed to ripple through his thoughts. He turned to look at her slowly.

[ May 16, 2003: Message edited by: arelendil ]

[Gorothlammothiel]

Soronume thought about what the young Niniel had said. Not knowing of the younger years of his life was not something that Soronume has had to contend with, for he remembered his childhood well. It was what came to light in later years that had thrown Soronume into a state that would allow him to understand Niniel's troubles.

"Have you heard enough or do you want the maiden to continue?" Elwen had asked, bringing Soronume back to the table. He turned to look upon her slowly, then to Niniel who shifted ever so slightly in her seat.

"Nay Elwen. I do not wish to hear more of a story that brings such pain to it's keeper. I'm sure that the lady Niniel has heard and answered enough of our questions for today." He looked upon Niniel who smiled with slight relief at the thought of ending her tale where she had. He gave a smile in return.

Just as Soronume was about to speak out from the moment of silence, a pain took his side once more. Nothing as violent as before, he did not need to grasp his side with any speed, but it was enough to cause significant discomfort in Soronume that he held his hand low and sighed heavily. It was also action enough that it was noticable to those who sat at the table with him.

[The Daughter of Gollum and Shelob]

On the table also sat young Nanna. She was still eyeing the hobbits, seeking for this Odo. She barely remembered how he looked like, and could not see the resemblance in any of the hobbits.

Outside, the wind played with the angry clouds, which cried its dirty tears. The Inn stood like a fortress against the storm.

Nanna took her book and began to read. She caught sight of the Innkeeper and ordered a beer.

[ElentariGreenleaf]

After Amarantha had finished talking to the lady asking about Odo, Cet tried her best to explain what she had meant.

"You see," began Cet. "Although I am only young, and I have never left Mirkwood, I have heard many wondrous tales about hobbits. Especially about Frodo and the War of the Ring. I always ask to hear that one, and I never get bored of it.

"I suppose you could say that I wish to be a Hobbit myself. You are the first Hobbit I have spoken to, and already what I have been told about your gracious manners have be confirmed."

"Thank you for your kind words Cet," said Amarantha. "But do not be surprised if you meet, well, less than kind Hobbits. Some can be quite mean if you don't know them. However, given time and patience all Hobbits are kind." Amarantha smiled as she said this.

"I'm sure I'll have all the patience in the world, Amarantha. I hope to stay here for a long time. So what family are you from? Baggins, Took? I haven't heard many names, so you must forgive me if I don't recognize yours." Cet took another sip of her drink, as she liked to do in a pause in a conversation. She was looking forward to getting to know the hobbits.

[arelendil]

Elwen loooked at soronume, deep into his eyes. "A wound or just the memory of one?"

"Only the memory now remains." was his quiet reply, still holding his side.

"Would you like me to do something about it?" Elwen smiled. She could feel his pain, it was strange. Not the type of pain she was used to, and mixed with the pain of the old wound was memories from his past. "Only once have i seen a similar wound, and that was long ago when i was not on this earth, i fear that i have lost some of the power i once had. But i can try if you wish..."

[Tinuviel of Denton]

Niniel was far more grateful to Soronume than she showed outwardly. As much as she desired to know of her past, she had, mostly, anyway, come to terms with not knowing. Still, it was--unpleasant to try to tell her tale. What she had of one, anyway.

When Soronume grasped his side, her first impulse was to put her arm around him, but she did not. She feared to be so familiar with him when they met not so long ago. Also, she felt that Elwen's offer of help would be far more effective than what she could do. Besides, Elwen knew him better.

Niniel watched, more than slightly jealous of Elwen's familiarity with Soronume. If only she could do the same for him. If only.

[Maegaladiel]

The wooden flute felt familiar in Nahai's hands. Her fingers automatically curled around the thin body of the instrument, forming what she knew would produce a low, sweet tone. An easy note to play and learn.

Closing her eyes, she blew softly. This produced a low, sad note, like a lonely wind echoing through a river canyon. The flute's wooden body made each note sound airy and fluid, unlike the silvery bird-songs produced by Annalalaith's flute. Both were beautiful, but it always amazed Nahai how different two of the same instrument could sound.

She shifted her fingers to a new position. Now the sound it emitted was higher and brighter, strangely reminiscent to a summer's day. Nahai opened her eyes and handed the flute to Morwyn.

"You try," she instructed. Nahai directed the woman where to place her fingers, and she caught on surprisingly quick. Soon, the Beorning had taught the Rohan woman a handful of basic notes. Then she took back the flute and began to play a slow song, making a point to exaggerate whre her fingers were moving. Once finished,she handed the flute back to Morwyn.

"Now it's your turn," she said. "Play from your heart."

[The Daughter of Gollum and Shelob]

Nanna loved the beautiful sound of Nahai playing. She had not heard music since she was a small child. The airy song of the flute contrasted to the hammering rain outside. It warmed the cold hearts of Nahai's audience.

Nanna wondered to herself. This Nahai is really quite nice, she thought. She felt guilty about shouting at this gentle creature before, so she decided to make amends.

"Nahai," she said, "I am sorry I was so fiery before. Your playing was beautiful." Now she was ready to listen to Morwyn. "Do you mind if I accompany your playing by singing?" she said to her. Nanna had the most lovely clear strong elven voice. She felt guilty, and willed to befriend these people.

[Annalaliath]

Taking Dev's hand Annalaliath looked at her. She wondered at the strangeness of it all. Her hands were still covered on charcoal dust and her face still had the smudges and the handprint. She looked once more at the young girl and thought, " Oh by Varda, she cleaned up." Then she said, " Call me Annalaliath, you are welcome to come to my table and meet my friends." She motioned to the table where the flute lesion was going on. " We would be more than happy."

Annalaliath let go of the handshake and then she laughed. " But, young one, if you don't start to pretend you are the master of art you never will be!" She laughed again and started to walk over to the table. Morwen and Nahi were in the middle of the lesson. Annalaliath stopped and turned around and waited or Dev, " are you coming," she asked.

[ May 16, 2003: Message edited by: Annalaliath ]

[Snowdog]

Silvanis thanked Lady Léspheria for the fresh ale, and he listened of her story with intent. He said,

'It was a hard time in the north, those years. I find it fascinating that I have only lore passed on through the generations of men, both written and spoken, while you have lived through the years. What tale could I speak of that would interest one who has lived the Third Age? Have you not been to many places in this land?'

His blue-grey eyes pierced hers as he sought knowledge from her expressions. Just then, an exploding ember shot out of the fire with a loud pop, and it bounced across the table, coming to rest against Silvanis's tankard of ale. It hissed slightly from the moisture upon its outsides, and blackened the old table before extinguishing itself. Silvanis watched as its redness darkened, and then stood from his chair. Stretching out, his bare arms flexed from his sleevless leather vest,and he turned and twisted before setting down.

'My pardon m'lady. It has been long since I had sat in a chair for so long and I am a bit stiff.'

Silvanis settled again and looked at the fire for a moment before turning to Léspheria. He asked her,

'Have you been to the south of the Anduin, especially now that it is somewhat safer to travel the ancient caravan routes of Harad and Khand? I could tell you of my journies there if you like.'

He took a good refreshing swallow of his ale as his mind sank into thought of those days as the music of the being played, for it soothed him.

[ May 16, 2003: Message edited by: Snowdog ]

[Sophia the Thunder Mistress]

Morwyn watched intently as Nahai's fingers moved on the body of the wooden flute. The Beorning woman played the song slowly, and Morwyn remembered the finger positions for each note. It was a sweet sad song, and Morwyn thought it was lovely.

After she finished Nahai passed the flute back across the table to Morwyn. Morwyn picked it up carefully, and held it the way Nahai had showed her. As she brought it to her lips to attempt to play, Nanna spoke from beside her. "Do you mind if I accompany your playing with singing?" Morwyn froze. She thrust the flute back toward Nahai and turned to Nanna with a red face.

"I don't know how to play it." she said quickly. "I'm sorry."

Nahai pushed her outstretched hands back toward her. "Try," she said. Morwyn put the flute to her lips and blew. Remembering the first note of the song Nahai had shown her, she began to play. The first line came out correctly, if somewhat slow and haltingly. Morwyn's eyes widened as she continued to find the notes with her fingers. Nahai smiled.

A piercing screech cut through the air. Everyone looked up and stared in the direction of the little group by the table. Morwyn put the flute down. Her face was beet red with embarrassment. "I can't do it." she said slowly to Nahai, and hid her face in her forgotten coffee cup.

[Gorothlammothiel]

"But I can try if you wish..."

Soronume raised his hands back to the table top and took up his glass. The pain had now gone, and he took a sip from his drink before answering the star-maiden.

"Thank you for the thought Elwen, but I'm afraid that there will be little you can do for me, even with the talents you clearly possess. Such a wound is nothing but a memory and the pain little more itself. If you were able to rid me from its grasp I would still have to decline, for however uncomfortable it is, the memory is that of a dear friend and I would not 'heal' that under any circumstance."

Soronume looked deep into Elwen's eyes. The star maiden seemed to understand his intentions but didn't appear to see what Soronume had meant by not wanting the 'pain' to leave him, however much it hurt.

"Everyone in this room has their own woes and troubles" he gestured out into the busy room, then turned back to Elwen and Niniel. "Each of them different. This is mine, and I must learn to live with it as you both have with yours."

Now they understood. Elwen could see that not even she could heal this wound of his, and Niniel that Soronume carried just as many burdens as she. She realised she was not the only one with a darker past, and was contented in the thought that even with the star maiden's offer of help, Elwen was of no more help to him than helself.

Soronume took the last sip from his glass then placed it down on the table. "Another drink Niniel? Elwen?" He stood up, pushing his chair away from the table and took the three empty glasses away to the bar, leaving the two maidens sat alone.

[ May 16, 2003: Message edited by: Gorothlammothiel ]

[bilbo_baggins]

As Enessar drew up to the Inn, he thought of all the many inns he had seen in his long life. Clad in a green tunic he was not that outstanding from a distance. At first glance he seemed to be entirely aloof from everyone and everything except him, his things, and his horse.
He wished that in this inn he would find friends wishing him to acclompish something, to keep himself from his past which he hoped to forget.
As he opened the door, people gave him a glance and then turned to their friends again; as always, he felt alone.

[ May 17, 2003: Message edited by: bilbo_baggins ]

[bilbo_baggins]

When Enessar sat with his ale near the main entrance watching for trouble; if it were the policy of this inn to be peaceful he would like to help

After a couple of pints, he felt he should probably see to the surrounding area and find a place for his horse: the inn's stable was full what with all the travelers.

Outside, it was dark and quiet. Enessar felt his half-brother, a halfelven, in the vicinity; perhaps in town. He felt his malice.

Hating that things should arise from the past to bring harm to these peaceful Shire villagers, he decided to stay low in the Inn.

[ May 17, 2003: Message edited by: bilbo_baggins ]

[ May 18, 2003: Message edited by: bilbo_baggins ]

[alaklondewen]

As Estella made her way toward the door to the Inn, she took a few deep breaths to calm her nerves. She'd never been very comfortable in social situations, but she was forcing herself to get out of her hole and be around people. Just one pint, she thought. And I'll leave...just one pint.

Estella was 55 and had never been married, so other hobbits sometimes treated her as an outcast...an old maid. This was the reason she never left her hole much, not after Gorbadoc died...

She shook the memories out of her head. As she reached the door, she straightened her skirt and smoothed down her graying hair in which the beautiful red it had once been was now only a memory.

She opened the door to the smoke filled Inn, and quickly glanced around the room. A couple of hobbits looked up, but no one payed much attention to her. She hoped to keep it that way. She didn't want to be in the spotlight. She wiped the sweat from her palms on her skirt and approached the bar. She took a seat at the far end, and waited quietly for the bartender.

[ May 17, 2003: Message edited by: alaklondewen ]

[Katt b]

The "small woman" thanks the Innkeeper quickly and makes her way to the Inn's Bartender."I'll have the biggest ale you've got"She says while plopping down some money.She takes her ale and makes her way confidently to the farthest corner of the Inn.

She whispers to the Hawk who is fluttering nervously on her shoulder,with a flick of her arm the Halk flies up to the nearest rafter above her head.She sets her ale on the table and begins to take off her traveling pack.She sits and fumbles to open it,then takes out a small piece of material to tie bck her hair.

You can now see this is not mearly a small woman,but a very small She Elf!She then takes a long drink from her ale,which is surprising because ale is not a favorite of the Elven kind...But she is not your typical elf as you can see from her size.

[Katt b]

The small She Elf in the corner looks up to see small little men? dancing on a table.She looks up quickly to her Halk Kitathas to see how she's fairing,she decides that she's alright,so she turns all her attention to the small men dancing and having a good time.

She smiles inwardly,and catches herself before she laughs out loud.She puts a stern look on her face and stares into her ale.

[Katt b]

Suddenly the Halk that had been sitting in the rafters swoops down towards the group of dancing small people.The young elf quickly rushes towards the group and lets out a piercing whistle.

Everyone looks towards her."I'm sorry, she mutters, Kit thought you would make a nice snack ,she says to one of the female Hobbits "But I've advised her against it,it will not happen again."

[Nerindel]

Léspheria watched as Silvanis rose from his seat, his bicep's bulged and rippled in the soft glow of the firelight as he stretched the stiffness from his limbs. As he sat back down gazing thoughtfully into the burning embers of the fire, she gazed at his rugged features. She couldn't help but smile, remembering a description she had once heard.

'A soft pale rose amidst a tangle of coarse thorns and wild brambles.'

The speaker had of course been speaking of her beauty amidst the rugged weather beaten Rangers she traveled with. But to her it was a more accurate description than anyone could have imagined.

A soft rose although beautiful and delicate to look on, also have thorns of their own and all that knew her knew to be weary for her thorns were deadly, in battle her ferocity matched that of any of her companions. As for the Rangers being compared to the rugged and coarse thorns of a wild untamed bramble bush, this too held true. Their weather hardened features and their often weather stained attaire gave this impression, but even the wildest bush bore the sweetest fruits. Their gentle kindness, loyalty and love for those they named friends was unmatched by any other race of men she had met. Yes, they hid it well but it was there and a part of their nature for those who cared to look for it.

As she gazed at Silvanis she could see that this too was indeed true of him. He then turned to her saying 'Have you been to the south of the Anduin, especially now that it is somewhat safer to travel the ancient caravan routes of Harad and Khand? I could tell you of my journey's there if you like.'

'Indeed I would' she replied with a sparkle of intrest in her soft grey eyes, 'Indeed I have not been that way, the furthest south I have been is to the fair lands of Ithilien' she continued. She took a long sip of her cider and waited patiently for him to begin.

[alaklondewen]

More action than what Estella had expected was taking place around her. Hobbits were dancing, and a large bird was flying around. She wasn’t quite sure what to think about it all.

She watched as the Innkeeper approached her from behind the bar. “Hello, there. May I help you?” She asked while smiling sweetly at Estella.

“Yes, you may. I came for a pint of ale,” Estella was feeling a little anxious, and her voice sounded gruff. The Innkeeper nodded and proceeded to serve the middle aged hobbit. “Thank you much.“ Estella nodded at the young woman with the kind smile.

Sipping on her ale, Estella let her eyes wander around the large, smoky room. A few familiar faces caught her eye, but she saw no one she knew personally. She was grateful there was no one who had been harsh to her in the past. This might be easier than you thought, ol’ girl, she smiled to herself and continued drinking her ale. You might even make some friends.

[ May 17, 2003: Message edited by: alaklondewen ]

[piosenniel]

Attention: ElenCalaIsil #6928 and Alatariel Telemnar #7536

Check your PM’s (Private Messages).

Do not post in the Shire until you have gotten back to me.

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

Notice to all posters in the Green Dragon Inn:

Please familiarize yourselves with the Rules of Posting in RPG’s and in the Green Dragon Inn. They are found in The Red Book of Westmarch.

You will be expected to follow these guidelines, whether or not you have read them.

Inappropriate posts will be returned to their writer with a warning and the post itself will be deleted from the board.

Posters who continue to be unable to follow the guidelines in The Red Book of Westmarch will be referred to an Administrator and run the risk of being banned from posting on the Barrow Downs.

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

Points of general information:

1.) Time frame in the Inn:

At this point the Green Dragon Inn is in the Fourth Age, about year 13. Elessar is King. It is mid-summer.

The Ban against Big Folk has been somewhat relaxed in the Shire for purposes of this 'game', and all sorts of creatures from Middle-earth are seen passing through the Shire and visiting the Inn.

2.) A basic rule concerning posting in the Inn, from The Red Book of Westmarch:

There is to be no independent RPG'ing within the Inn. Don't try to play your RPG storyline by coming into the Inn thread with it.

3.) Be very careful when you introduce characters which Tolkien, himself, wrote - any of the Fellowship of the Ring or other characters drawn by Tolkien in his writing.

Develop your own character which is Tolkien-friendly and use that character instead of manipulating one or more of Tolkien’s characters.

~~ Piosenniel, Shire Moderator

[ May 17, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Tinuviel of Denton]

Niniel watched Soronume go to the bar, her eyes never leaving him. She wondered why he'd refused healing, but felt a little better in that, in this, Elwen was no more use to him than she. She still longed for the closeness they shared. Well, not quite the same kind.

Soronume glanced toward the table, and Niniel turned her head, embarrassed at being caught staring. She looked around the inn instead, though every few moments she would look back at Soronume. She saw a Ranger sitting at a nearby table with an elven maid, and grimaced. Though he hadn't the same look of cruelty about him, he reminded her too much of the bandits that she'd lived with for a time, disguised as a boy. They had frightened her, but the orcs had frightened her more.

She shook her head to clear it of those memories. She glanced into a corner where a huge hawk was flying around and once again toward the bar. And Soronume.

She felt a little uncomfortable with Elwen. The star maiden seemed so far above Niniel that it seemed almost sacrilege to talk to her. Soronume could do it, but without his presence, Niniel felt rather like a small and rather dirty child who was sticking her nose where it didn't belong.

[Katt b]

The small woman(Waenturwean) sat back down in her seat and called the SMALL Hawk to her shoulder,While stroking the birds neck she thought to herself*What a queer sight all these people are,laughing and carring on,am I so differentyou that no one will talk and laugh with me?*

She decided to make her way to the InnKeeper to see if she could find a little something to eat,for she had not eaten for some time now.She only cared if Kit was hungry and rarely thought of herself.

She approached the bartender."Excuse me Sir you would not happen to have some fruit I could purchase?" The bartender told her to wait and he would see what they had in stock.

She sat contently by the bar and looked around,she saw a woman sitting not far from her.The woman glanced up and their eyes met, the woman smiled.Waen gave her a suspisious look*Why would this woman be taking an interest in me?*

[Nerindel]

Fawain and Lóthaniel sat for hours with Daethaur discussing routes and secret passages under the mountains. Lóthaniel leaned back in his chair and stretched his stiff limbs and had a look around the now busy room.

He saw a young woman sitting in the corner alone. No, not alone a small hawk sat in the rafters just above her head, as she tied her hair up he noticed that she was an elf, he was suprised at how short she was. He decided he would leave Fawain and Daethaur to sort out the finer details of their journey, and go and join the young elf.

He excused himself, and went to the bar to get a refill. 'some more mulled wine my good lady' he said smiling warmly. Aman smiled back at him while filling his glass, he handed her some coins telling her to get one for herself, she thanked him. He raised his glass to her and excused himself saying 'I think there is a young lady in the corner needing some company' and with that he went over to join the Small Elf.

'May I join you' he asked smiling warmly, just then the the Hawk swooped down from the rafters defensively and sat on her shoulder screeching loudly. He didn't flinch instead he looked directly at the hawk and let out a low screech of his own the hawk screeched back approvingly and flew back up to the rafters, he turned back to the small elf saying 'my name is Lóthaniel Dëafea from Rivendell and you are....'

[bilbo_baggins]

Enessar sat with his ale in the inn, hoping that his brother would pass him by. When the time was ripe, he would avenge his father.

Tales whipered around him as he fought to stay conscious. He heard a faint "...and then we came here to find rest and adventure..." "...and, if you don't like it I'll..."

If he had really cared he could be the center of all attention, being one of the first Firstborn. But, doing so would reveal him to his brother, and he did not want to confront him now.

[ May 17, 2003: Message edited by: bilbo_baggins ]

[alaklondewen]

As Estella finished her mug of ale, a small elf woman who had a hawk on her shoulder approached the bar. Being curious (or was it nosy?) about this young elf, Estella smiled shyly at her then looked away quickly. The ale had taken the edge off her nerves, and she was beginning to feel a little brave.

“Excuse me, may I have a soda,” Estella asked the bartender who had come back to the counter. The young man quickly served her beverage, and she thanked him.

Glancing around again, she took a deep breath and got off of her chair, moving closer the rather curious elf and her bird. “Hello,” she cleared her throat nervously and continued. “Beautiful day it is,” she nodded toward the door.

At first, the elf looked at her suspiciously, and Estella almost returned to her seat, but a slow smile crept across the elf’s face. “The name’s Estella Proudfoot,” Estella stood proudly and held out her hand.

Another elf approached of whom the hawk seemingly did not approve, and a bit of a commotion followed. However, the elf unexpectedly answered the bird, and it flew back to the rafters. The newcomer introduced himself as Lóthaniel.

[ May 17, 2003: Message edited by: alaklondewen ]

[Gorothlammothiel]

The following is posted on behalf of arelendil who cannot access her computer tonight but has written and asked me to post this for her:

Soronume had left the table for drinks, declining Elwen's offer of help. She knew why he had said no, it did not surprise her for it was the answer she knew was coming.

The table had fallen silent. Niniel who had been watching Soronume at the bar shifted as if to rise and follow him but Elwen grabbed her hand saying, "Give him time, it is hard for him to bare."

Niniel turned to look at Elwen and sat back down.

"Soronume and I" began Elwen, "are just friends. Dear friends yes, but nothing more." Niniel smiled at the star maiden, a slight flush coming to her cheeks.

Elwen laughed. "I can read your face and movements Niniel, not your mind." Elwen sighed and smiled at Niniel. "He does have a way doesn't he?" A teasing smile played over her lips. "He told me once long ago that he could not form new bonds with anyone until he had found what it was he sought. He has been gone a long while but still a cloud hangs about him. I do not think he is yet ready."

Elwen turned to smile at Soronume as he glanced over from the bar where he was waiting to be served. She turned back to the maiden.

"But perhaps I am wrong. The cloud about him is not the same that I once knew. Maybe this is one that the light of the star maiden alone cannot pierce. I leave it to your judgement."

Elwen sat back in her seat, playing absent-mindedly with the silver ring on her left hand.

[Katt b]

She jumped out of her chair in awe and anger."How dare you come off with such insolence,you should have introduced yourself first Stretch!she says with an approving smile.

"Come sit, join me for some ale!"as she lets him sit first,a sharp whistle leaves her mouth.Kitathas swoops quickly down and lands on Waen's shoulder as she seats herself.

[Gorothlammothiel]

Soronume stood at the bar and turned back to the table where Niniel and Elwen sat. He caught Niniel's gaze and she quickly looked away. Elwen did nothing but smile as he turned back to the bar where Aman was waiting.

"More drinks Sir?" she asked politely as she took the cups from him. "Thank you" he replied as he looked back to the table where the two maiden's were now talking. As Aman was fetching the drinks Soronume continued. "You must forgive my rudeness earlier lady Aman, I never did have the opportunity to answer your question." She smiled at him as she brought the drinks to him. "Then please, continue now" she replied.

"As I said earlier, I have recently come from Mirkwood, but I cannot say I am familiar with Tallin, was it?" She nodded. "Though I confess I knew very few in those parts, only those whom I travelled with, unless she may go by another name?"

[Katt b]

Waen turned and looked at the small Hobbit woman "and what may I ask are you?I see he is an Elf and there are many men here, but I have never seen one of your kind till I came here."

The bird on her shoulder gave her a slight nip on the ear."Kit does not like it when I talk harshly,Please excuse me."

[alaklondewen]

"The name's Estella Proudfoot," Estella repeated. "We're hobbits, halfings, you might say."

Estella had not expected a question of that nature, and she looked down at her feet. "That's a mighty fine bird you got there." Her voice sounded gruff. She pulled out the chair next to the elves and hoisted her plump body into the seat.

[Nerindel]

Lóthaniel, was taken aback by the young womans tone, but he sat down anyway. She turned to address a middle aged hobbit wowan that sat beside her.

"and what may I ask are you?I see he is an Elf and there are many men here, but I have never seen one of your kind till I came here." Lóthaniel was shocked he thought every elf knew what hobbits were, he smiled at the Halfling trying to make her feel a little less awkwarded than he felt at this moment.

[Katt b]

"Yes she is a fine bird,sometimes!"As she strikes a look at the bird."But she thinks she is my mother!"The bird ruffles her feathers as if she knew what she had said and disapproved.

Waen laughed and pushed the bird off her shoulder lovingly"You know your nothing like my mother Kit,you actually love me!"

[Katt b]

"So you say your name is Estella?Mine is Waenturwean but you can call me Waen if you so wish."Waen could see the look upon the elf's face and blushed.

"Sorry,my life was....very ...sheltered.I did not learn of such things, only pretty poems and songs.Excuse my harsh words,if they offended you I am sorry."

[Silmarien]

“Well, my mother is at least ¾ Took and my father ½ Brandybuck. I don’t think I have any Baggins in me at least not from what I can tell from the family tree and hobbit family trees tend to be very extensive.” She paused and ordered a cider from the Aman. “and one for my new friend.”

After whetting her throat she continued. “The Mudruffins have been round for a quite while but tend not to be adventurous which in the Shire is by most considered to be very respectable. But, being as I am, at least ½ Brandybuck and Took me and my siblings have a propensity for... mischief.” In her eyes Cet could see a rascally light.

[Nerindel]

Lóthaniel gracously accepted the Elf's apology saying 'there was no offence taken I was just suprised, I just thought everyone had heard of the halflings after the heoric deeds of Frodo Baggins and his faithful friend master Samwise Gamgee.' He smiled again at the halfling and introduced himself my name is Lóthaniel and I am from Rivendell, it is a pleasure to meet you.'

He then turned back to Waenturwean saying 'So where are you from and what brings you to the shire?' He sipped his wine waiting for her to answer.

[alaklondewen]

Estella placed her soda back on the counter and shook the elf’s hand. “Nice to meet you…Nice to meet both of you,” she leaned over and smiled at Lothaniel who returned her smile.

Feeling more comfortable in this new atmosphere, Estella shifted her weight back in her seat and settled in. When she left home this evening, she wouldn’t have guessed she’d be sitting with two elves. My goodness, this was turning into an interesting time.

[Katt b]

"I have heard of this Frodo but my mother always kept me away from war and anything to do with fighting,she said I must make up for my size in loveliness."

"But lets not talk of that anymore.I am from far Lothlorien,and about me being here,why not I do not wish to only know of lovely things,instead I long to fight."As she says this she gazes off with a look of distane,recalling an awful memory of name calling and hurtful glances.

*How can I explain to him how hard it is to be different,longing to learn to fight,but always being forbidden,or laughed at*

[alaklondewen]

As Waen spoke about her home, Estella thought she looked troubled, so she reached out and touched the elf on the elbow affectionately. “Are you okay?” She asked.

Waen smiled and shook her head, “Of course, I’m fine.” She pulled her arm away from Estella, but the hobbit thought she looked like she was recalling some kind of memories.

“How about a drink?” Estella was trying to lighten the mood. She got the Innkeeper’s attention and ordered a drink for each of them.

[Dorelnar]

The door to the inn once more opened, letting in a weary traveller. His dark cloak and tunic of the same colour, a twilight blue. His hair dark like the night and his skin was fair but for a faint tan lingering.

The stranger gazed about the room as if looking for something, as if that was all he had ever done. His eyes came to rest on two maidens sitting at a corner table by the fire. One of them caught his attention. Could it be? She was glowing! Faintly, yes, some of the light obviously obscured by the light of the flickering fire but it was no mistake, she was glowing. A white light surrounded her. It was obvious to him that this maiden was, although she looked like it, no ordinary elven maid.

The stranger headed for the bar. It was worth finding out more before he approached her.

A man stood at the bar, talking to the inn keeper. He kept glancing over to the table where the maidens sat, did he know them? With three drinks before him, the stranger thought so.

"Good sir, pray tell me do you know the two maidens yonder?" the stranger inquired tapping the man on the shoulder.

[Amanaduial the archer]

The stranger came in and headed for the bar. Aman smiled at him as she approached. He tapped Soronume on the shoulder politely.

"Good sir, pray tell me do you know the two maidens yonder?"

Soronume turned, but shook his head. "I'm afraid not. Im not personally aquainted with them."

Aman came in here, wanting to be of some assistance. "I believe their names are Estella and Waenturwean. The man with them is Lothaniel of Rivendell. Would you like a drink?"

The man shook his head, seeming distracted. "No, no thankyou, Lady...?"

"Aman. My name is Aman."

"And my name is Soronume." Soronume also extended a hand. The stranger shook both, smiling. Aman turned back to the elf in front of her.

"Please, continue." she said. Soronume nodded.

"As I said earlier, I have recently come from Mirkwood, but I cannot say I am familiar with Tallin, was it?" She nodded. "Though I confess I knew very few in those parts, only those whom I travelled with, unless she may go by another name?"

"Others? Anyone I might know?" Suddenly she remembered how he had winced earlier and clutched his arm. As if it had been pierced, and never healed...something Elentari had said came back to her and she turned back, tipping her head slightly to one side inquiringly. "Maybe...Elentari Greenleaf?"

[Ealasaid]

No sooner had the door to the common room closed at the back of the twilight-clad man, than it opened again to allow the entrance of a tall maid dressed all in brown and a deep forest green. She wore a headshawl that had been pulled forward to veil the lower portion of her face, but the long-lashed and kohl-lined eyes that remained visible were bright. She hesitated just inside the threshold and let her gaze take in the inhabitants of the room.

There were no familiar faces amongst the assembly of men, hobbits, and elves, but that wasn't surprising to her. The one individual, a hobbit, that she had come there to see had already sent word that she would not be there. Undaunted, Benia Nightshade had decided to go to the Inn anyway. She had travelled many miles up the Greenway to reach Hobbiton and now believed that nothing would suit her better than a cold pot of ale and a good tale or two beside the fire.

Stepping up to the bar, she noticed that the barmaid - she believed she had heard her introduce herself to another as Aman - was already engaged in conversation with two individuals, a Ranger, Benia guessed by the look of one of them. The other she took to be an elf.

She could wait. If her father, Old Jack Nightshade, had taught her one thing in life, it was patience.

[ May 18, 2003: Message edited by: Ealasaid ]

[Gorothlammothiel]

Soronume was talking to Aman when a stranger walked over and questionned him. "Good sir, pray tell me do you know the two maidens yonder?"

Aman was quick to answer on his behalf, though she was mistaken. Soronume turned to the man. "Indeed Sir, if you enquire of the star maiden and her friend, I do know them." He looked down to the drinks on the tray before him. "May I ask why you enquire of them at the bar, and not at their table?"

"I had thought I recognised one of them" he replied. "Oh?" Soronume sighed. The man laughed. "There is no need to seem so protective, I was only enquiring of the lady." "In that case my'lord, would you care for a drink, and to join us when I return to them in a few minutes?" The man nodded.

Aman brought back the fourth drink and introduced herself to the newcomer. The three shook hands. Aman tipped her head to one side, and mentioned a name that this time, Soronume was familiar with.

"Elentari Greenleaf?" she questionned. Soronume's expression changed at the sound of the name. "Yes lady Aman, Elentari is known to me. A good friend. She accompanied me, or rather led me and others to Cirith Ungol. She beholds great power, Elentari does."

Aman nodded with a smile, realising that it was the same Soronume she had heard Elentari talk of. "You have heard from her, in Mirkwood?" Soronume questionned, then continued. "I have not heard word of her since I left Mirkwood. I assume she is in good health and enjoying her new-found post of responsibility?"

[bilbo_baggins]

Ennesar thankd Aman for the ale, and payed his tab. He did not belong with good folk; he should leave.

When he left the inn, he felt better. His brother would follow him far away, out of Middle Earth.

He would not be seen for many years......

[Hilde Bracegirdle]

The news had reached her while she was washing up the supper dishes that Benia had been seen in town. It had been so long ago, another lifetime really since Gilly had any dealings with the foreigner. She didn’t particularly want to become ensnared again in the world outside the Shire, but still she was curious, though with deep reservations.

By the time she had reached the common room she was in an agitated state, hoping that she might go by unnoticed. She was a middle-aged hobbit now, respectable, married, graying. Benia represented the wilds, something dangerous, a way of life that still held an inexplicable draw to Gilly.

But she had traveled so far to reach Hobbiton. Gilly simply couldn’t let her own misgivings interfere with Burrows hospitality. It wasn’t right. After all the past was the past. What could happen?

[ May 19, 2003: Message edited by: Hilde Bracegirdle ]

[Nerindel]

Lóthaniel saw that Waen was holding back, but he was never any good at drawing people out, his twin sister was the better at that sort of thing. He decided that if the elf wanted to share her thoughts with them she would in her own time?

Estella had tried to comfort the elf, but when Waen had told her that she was fine the halfling turned and ordered them a fresh round of drinks. Lóthaniel thanked Estella for his drink and raised his glass of wine to her saying 'So what news is there in the shire this fine evening?'a boyish grin spread across his face, he knew how much the halflings loved to gossip and tell tales of the Shire and it's history. He was sure this halfling would be no exception.

He put down his glass and decided to light up his pipe again, for he also knew how long hobbit tales could go on for. Chuckling inwardly to himself he packed his pipe with some long leaf he had in a shabby old green pouch, He lit it up and took a couple of puffs, then sat back in his chair making himself more comfortable to listen to the hobbits tale.

[ May 18, 2003: Message edited by: Nerindel ]

[alaklondewen]

Estella graciously thanked the bartender for serving the fresh round of drinks. The elves thank her and she held up her mug in a toasting fashion.

She sat back and took a large drink of her ale as Lothaniel enquired about the Shire. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she started, “Well, we’ve had some strange folk coming across the borders, since the rules have been relaxed.” She wanted to say such as yourselves, but she kept that to herself. “Tommy Hornblower, my second cousin once removed on my mother’s side, is a bounder in the north. He says there’s an abundance of non-hobbit folk traveling through. The Bolger’s, Bungo and Aldarida who live next door to me, said their son Ted told them…” Only taking an occasional break for a sip of ale, Estella continued to fill the elves in on current affairs in the Shire. Before she knew it, forty-five minutes has passed and her mug was dry.

[ May 19, 2003: Message edited by: alaklondewen ]

[Nerindel]

Lóthaniel sat blowing smoke rings and sipping his wine, while Estella filled them both in on the recent going on's in the Shire. He had been listening so intently to Estella's recount that he hadn't noticed his mug slowly draining dry. As she finnished, he lifted his mug to take another sip only to realise it was empty, looking to his companions he noticed that they too had finnished their drink's. He tapped out his pipe putting the unburnt weed in his pouch and his pipe in his breast pocket and Jumped up cheerily, grabbing the empty mugs "I think another drink is in order." he said in a soft melodic voice.

Still smiling he left them and made his way to the bar. As he looked about he saw that the innkeeper, Aman was in deep conversation with a tall male Elf, a Ranger by the look of his well worn attaire. Not wishing to interrupt their conversation he looked around for someone else to serve him. He saw no-one else in the bar area, but at the other end of the common room was a small well set hobbit woman but she too seemed extremely busy serving the patrons at that end of the room. 'It look's like I'll have to interrupt the good lady's conversation after all' he thought regretfully.

He turned to the innkeeper smiling politely "Excuse me, Dear lady, I am sorry to interrupt but I was wondering if I could have a refill for me and my friends?" he enquired, placing down the mugs in his hand and pointing in the direction of his new friends.

"And were is that sister of mine, I was lead to believe that she would be helping you out here" he added trying to hide his awkwardness at having interrupted Amans conversation, behind his mischevious smile. As Aman poured their drinks he looked about for his sister, he spotted her sitting by the fire with a tall grey haired man, 'another Ranger and a Dúnedain if I'm not mistaken' he thought to himself. He turned back to Aman laughing "It seem's she has been distracted" he said nodding in Léspheria's direction, "by a Ranger no less, I fear that it may be some time before you have her help again, she has a great fondness for the Rangers and their..er.. tales." he continued.

He then turned to the Elf that Aman had been talking too saying "I must apologise for my Manners, I have been rude enough to interrupted your conversation with this fair lady and I have not even introduced myself. My name is Lóthaniel Dëafea and I am from Rivendell, it is a pleasure to meet you" he said extending a hand of friendship to the Elf. As he looked at the elf he thought there was something familiar about him, he wondered if this elf was from Rivendell or if he had passed though.

[ May 19, 2003: Message edited by: Nerindel ]

[alaklondewen]

Lothaniel politely offered to acquire fresh drinks for the trio, and Estella was grateful as her mouth had become quite dry from her long tale. The Innkeeper was engaged in conversation, and the elf looked at a loss at first as there was no one to help him at the bar. Eventually, Estella watched as he interrupted the conversation and spoke to the Innkeeper for a few minutes.

At her side, Waen had grown quiet, and Estella was worried that trouble was on her mind. Such a pretty girl, she thought. I do hope everything works out for her. Nodding in agreement with her own thoughts, Estella looked at the elf, then turned her attention to the rest of the room.

She faintly remembered hearing the sweet melodies of a flute earlier, and she looked intently for the source until she found three women who looked tall and strong. The flute was on the table and the women seemed to be discussing it. Estella just wished they would play it again. The soft melody was a comfort to her.

[Amanaduial the archer]

"Aye, I have heard from Elentari a few times since then, though not as many as I may have liked- it seems she does not have time for us mere mortals." She grinned to show Soronume that she was joking, for he seemed a little bashful. "She is travelling around Mirkwood at the moment, I believe, or so I was told by a friend of hers; Cet." She nodded in the direction of Cet, and Soronume turned.

Another took advantage of this break in the conversation, and she recognised him as Lothaniel. "Excuse me, Dear lady, I am sorry to interrupt but I was wondering if I could have a refill for me and my friends?" He inquired politely.

Aman nodded, smiling back and began to fill them up, as Lothaniel talked. She laughed with him, and he seemed gratified, so awkward seeming had he been before. She half expected to see him twisting a hat in his hands! Aman placed the drinks on the bar.

"Thankyou, Lady." He grinned again, dipping his head slightly, then turned to Soronume, still seated at the bar, waiting politely and patiently, introducing himself. Aman listened, and her eyes strayed around the bar. They came to rest on the people Lothaniel had been sitting with before. One looked so worried, as if the weight of the world rested on her shoulders. Beside her sat another, looking anxious for her friend. Their eyes met, and the latter smiled, then shrugged. Aman frowned slightly, asking what she was looking for, and Estella mimed playing a flute. Aman took a moment, puzzled, then worked out what she was saying. Nahai's flute. Yes, it would be nice to hear it again, and the beautiful sound would gladden anyone's heart, human, elven or hobbit.

She looked around casually but with a purpose, until she saw Nahai, Morwyn and Nanna. She stared at Morwyn's back intently, wondering if she could make her turn around just by the power of her eyes, but instead Nanna looked at her. Aman had had doubts about this strange elf, but she seemed to have improved, and was getting along well with the other two, much to Aman's relief. Aman motioned, as Estella had, making out she was playing a flute, and after a moment, Nanna's eyes lit up. She nodded at Aman, then said something to Morwyn and Nahai. Nahai turned and Aman raised her eyebrows, asking silently. Nahai turned to the others, then back to Aman, and nodded.

And so, without Aman or Estella saying a word, it seemed their wish would be granted, as Nahai picked up the flute once more.

[Katt b]

Waen was brought out of her thoughts by a beautiful sound of a flute playing,she let the sound wash away all the unpleasent thoughts thou it was hard to forget,all she could hear was the sound of laughter and the wordsDwarf! Dwarf! we do not love you,why are you here!

She began to imagine that all these people were just talking to her so eventually the could cut her down and make her feel like nothing again,just like when she was a child.

Her Father had perished when she was still young,and her mother had raised her. But when she began to get older and she stopped growing,the other elves began to make fun of her calling her Dwarf and excluding her from her favorite things such as learning to use her bow.

Her Mother decided that she would never learn to fight,instead she would learn to be lovely,so that maybe one day someone would learn to love her.

Waen began to fall in to depression. Not wanting to wake in the morning,only hoping she would perish from a broken heart.

Then one evening when she was 999 she decided that she would run away,she would learn to fight all by herself if she must.She packed her bag and some food vowing to never let anyone tell her who she should be or how she should act again!

[Ealasaid]

Benia had been waiting at the bar to place her drink order for only a short while when another elf approached and interrupted the ongoing conversation between the bar mistress, the Ranger, and the other elf to place his own drink order. Observing, she raised one black eyebrow.

"Ah!" she reminded herself. "One must speak out in a tavern or forever go thirsty!"

Among her mother's people, it was considered rude for a newcomer to speak first without having been acknowledged or invited to speak by another. The custom had been well-ingrained in her, and, not being around other people much, she had to remind herself that not everyone had the same customs. Behind the veil, a smiled danced on the corners of her lips. She might have stood there all night!

In the attempt to get Aman's attention without disrupting the flow of her conversation with the others, Benia raised her hand, forgetting that she had already removed her gloves. In doing so, she exposed the intricately tattooed palm of a nomadic tribeswoman from the deserts beyond Harad. Quickly, she closed her hand and lowered it again, cutting a quick glance at Aman and her companions to see how they had reacted, if indeed they had even noticed. It did not seem to her that they had. She breathed a sigh of relief. Generally, her kind were regarded with suspicion in Middle Earth as the majority of her people had fought on the side of Sauron in the War of the Ring. Her own clan, the Painted Sand clan, had refused and been hunted nearly to extinction as a result. Once numbering in the hundreds, her clan had been reduced to a mere handful of uncles and distant cousins. The Red Eye of Mordor may have been defeated, but there were still those in the world who reamined loyal and who still desired vengeance.

She leaned forward instead, speaking through her veil. "Pardon me, lady, I am sorry to interrupt you and your friends, but I have travelled far and am in dire need of refreshment. Might I trouble you for a pint?" She had worked hard to eliminate the accent from her speech, but a small trace remained. She trusted that no one would notice that either. She was tired of trouble and sought no quarrel with anyone. All she wanted was to find the Hobbit who had rendered her a great kindness many years ago when she had been nothing more than a gangly black-haired teenager.

[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman eyed the newcomer with discreet curiosity. The veil was surprising, Aman hadn't seen one of them in years. A group of men and women had come to Rohan, the women's faces veiled so, but they had been driven away by the Rohirrim, as if they had done something terrible. Something about Sauron...She tried to remember where they had been from, when the woman gave her a clue. The tattooed palm- Aman had heard about these people. The nomads of the deserts beyond Harad.

The woman came over, but it was impossible to see her expression behind the veil.

"Pardon me, lady, I am sorry to interrupt you and your friends, but I have travelled far and am in dire need of refreshment. Might I trouble you for a pint?"

Aman smiled and nodded, and sensed the woman was doing the same behind the mysterious veil. "Of course. Ale?"

The woman nodded again.

"Where is it you are from?" Although Aman had a good idea of the answer, she couldnt resist asking.

[Maegaladiel]

Nahai nodded at Nanna, glad she no longer felt such anger towards her.

"Apology accepted, Lady Nanna," she said. "Of course you may sing along, if you like." Morwyn seemed nervous about this, but Nahai pushed her to try the song.

Nahai listened to Morwyn's halting version of the tune. For a first try, it was very good. She definately had a knack for this kind of thing.

No sooner had the thought passed her mind than the flute let out a shrill sqeal of protest. Morwyn, extrememly embarrassed, pushed the rebellious instrument back to Nahai.

"I can't," she said quickly. The Beorning placed the wooden flute back in her hands.

"Of course you can," she said stoutly. "You're doing fine. When you fall off of a horse, you get back on again, yes? This is the same thing. You cannot give up because one time you think you fail. Play." Nahai looked at her expectantly, waiting for her reply.

[Katt b]

Waen stretched her legs and looked up at Kitathas who had fallen asleep in the rafters.*She will be alright for a moment if I get up.I wonder if those maidens would let me try playing that flute I think it sounds so beautiful.*

Just then a loud squeak came from one the the ladies that was playing,she sat down quickly,embarrased.The others reassured her and she began to relax.

*Maybe they will let me play even if I'm not so good,well here goes.*Waen excused herself politely from Estella."I will be right back!"

She made her way to the Maidens."Excuse me I was sitting over there and I heard you playing would you mind terribly if I had a try?"

[Gorothlammothiel]

The newcomer had distracted Aman's attention and Soronume realised he had possibly been keeping Aman away from her inn, and her customers, for far too long. Picking up the three drinks and standing, Soronume spoke to the man sat at his side. "My'lord? Do you still wish to join us?" "Certainly" was his reply as he too stood and they walked across the floor.

Soronume noticed Cet, who Aman had made him aware of, sat across the room and thought that he would enquire of Elentari and the others in Mirkwood later on.

Nearing his table Soronume noticed that his company seemed to hesitate a little. Noticing the look on Soronume's face he continued without again stopping. The maidens noticed them coming, and Niniel's face lit up a little.

"Welcome back" smiled Elwen as Niniel blushed slightly. "Thank you" replied Soronume as he placed the drinks down on the wooden table top. "My'lady" he said softly as he pushed Niniel's drink carefully towards her. She smiled with gratitude. Soronume then turned away from the table to collect another chair and seated it facing the maidens.

"Niniel, Elwen, I hope you do not mind me bringing back company" he asked softly. Neither seemed to show any objection to the necomer so they both took seat. "Elwen, it seems you are known beyond the walls of this inn" he continued with a smile "I found this man asking after you at the bar." Elwen smiled, she seemed to be familiar with this man.

"Let me introduce my company my'lord. This is Elwen," he looked towards the star maiden whose light was growing though not yet distinguishable to those without the knowledge of its existance. "And this is the fair lady Niniel" He smiled as he looked upon the maiden who took a sip from her cup. "I believe I introduced myself at the bar?" The newcomer nodded. "In that case" continued Soronume, "I believe you remain to tell us of yourself?" he questionned.

[Sophia the Thunder Mistress]

Morwyn smiled despite herself. Nahai could have chosen no better comparison for a woman of Rohan. "Like falling off a horse, eh?" she asked her friend wryly, picking up the flute once more and arranging her fingers painstakingly over the holes.

Morwyn didn't remember the first time she fell off a horse, she suspected her pony had likely thrown her a few times in her childhoood, but she had been a rather determined young woman, when she learned to train them for war.

The first time she was thrown from one of Alric's stallions she'd landed in a disgruntled heap and her husband had nearly died from worry. 'I'm fine,' she'd told him, through clenched teeth, and without a second thought she remounted. The next day she'd had some sore muscles and a vicious bruise on her backside, but she'd won. Morwyn smiled at the memory. Alric had been so proud, her tall blue eyed husband. She pushed the troubling thought of another fall from horseback from her mind, and glanced up at Nahai.

"I've forgotten the tune." she said. "Will you show me again?" Nahai took the flute and repeated the song slowly, her finger movements exaggerated so Morwyn could see them more clearly.

When Morwyn took the instrument back she was more confident, her fingers finding their places easier. She raised the flute to her lips and played. Still haltingly, but a little clearer, the melody began to come out. Nahai grinned.

[Nerindel]

Lóthaniel picked up the drinks and turned to make his way back to their table, he noticed that Estella was now sitting on her own he scanned the room to find Wean. He found her sat at a table with four other women, three of which were distintivly Elven.

"Evening ladies" he said inclining his head and smiling warmly as he set down Weans ale. " I am going to keep Estella company, it was nice meeting you and maybe we will speak again Ere I leave," he whispered to Wean. She thanked him for the drink.

He returned to the table were Estella was sitting alone, "I hope you were not alone long" he said to her setting down her soda.
He sat down beside her and took a long sip of his wine, waiting for her to reply.

[Elora]

Vanwe shot out of her room and hurtled down the hallway on the second floor with considerable haste. She had lingered late the evening before, lulled by the warmth and ease of the common room which had been a comfort rare upon her road and indeed within her short life. When the soft bed and coverlets were added to that score, Vanwe had settled into a deep rest that had resulted in her squandering a goodly portion of the next day away. She descended the stairs into the common room on feet made fleet by her dwindling purse, having further loitered to brush the road out of her dress. In her experience, free lodgings generally only extended to one night at best and she had been surprised to have not been tipped out on her ear. As she glanced out the window she was also relieved.

A quick inspection of her pouch found she had only 3 coppers left. It was certainly not enough to cover meals or another night. The only other things she possess was a thin cloak, a nub of a pencil she accidentally purloined from it's rightful owner and a scrap of paper with potentially incriminating notes. As a result, Vanwe arrived in the common room with a healthy determination to avoid drawing attention to herself.

The elf maiden tucked strands of hair behind her ears that had been dislodged in her flight from over-sleeping and more calmly moved through the tables which were filling. Many preferred a dry roof and victuals to the weather that was closing in without. She certainly would to, if she had the means. Aman smiled at her brightly, which Vanwe returned as she wandered through the room. Some faces she recognised from the night before. Still more were new to her, yet noone had arrived in a uniform and relief skated across her senses at that small mercy. Vanwe was still expecting the owner of the pencil to catch up with her.

"Good day, Aman and my thanks for a night's rest in a warm and dry bed," Vanwe said as she approached. Her face was earnest and shone with gratitude that said more about her vagabond status than perhaps the maiden would have wished. Despite what she could see through the window, Vanwe kept her smile in place as she continued on. "I am sorry to leave, but my road carries me on and I cannot impose upon your hospitality any longer."

Aman blinked at her wording, a reaction that Vanwe had not expected. She had heard someone else say that, and it had sounded good and been well received at the time she observed it. She still had much to do if she was to learn the easy interaction of the wider world and not make herself conspicuous. "Perhaps next time, I can stay longer," Vanwe finished. She spread her cleaner and less dusty skirts in a curtsy which she executed with grace as Aman studied the young Elf. "May your road be safe and kind, Vanwe," she kindly responded. Vanwe fervently wished it would be so.

She collected her cloak from where it hung by the door and cracked it open a notch. It was just enough to catch a water logged gust of wind. Vanwe reluctantly shrugged her cloak around her shoulders, pulled it tight with one slender hand and pushed her way out the door proper. She shivered, for the drop in temprature was sudden. The rain was heavy, piercing through her cloak and dress effortlessly as she stepped off the covered porch of the inn. Aman's words circled in her head and the elf sighed.

Then with a determination that belied her tender years, she stepped away from the inn and into the storm proper. She managed to remain upright until she arrived at the stables, some 20 paces. The sanctuary of the partially opened door dragged into that and she stood just within the stable and peered at the heavy clouds. Vanwe felt a trickle of icy rain water course down her spine and sighed ruefully. Behind her the warmth of stabled horses glowed and she turned to breath them in. The straw looked soft.

She would not find a hedge thick enough to bunker down under in this weather. Surely noone would object if she waited out the storm in the stable. She would do no harm. Vanwe drifted further into the stable with each passing thought, the breathing and nickering of the horses surrounding her. She pushed her sodden cloak back from around her shoulders as she walked, curiosity pulling her from stall to stall as she examined the horses.

How wonderful it would be to own one of these to save your feet and give you warmth and company on the road. Her face was wistful as she surveyed each horse. Some tossed their heads imperiously as she passed them by. Others twitched ears and studied her in return. She extended a hand to stroke a velvety nose and a smile came unbidden to her face. She wouldn't hurt anything if she shared a stall.

Vanwe slipped through the stall gate and along side the horse she had stroked. Liquid eyes calmly inspected her young, rain soaked visage and nuzzled her for an trace of food. Her stomach made the absence of any such treasure audibly known and the horse abandoned its search. It heaved a sigh as her hands ran lightly over it's coat. Vanwe sank into a corner near a front fetlock, soft straw cushioning her. The horse bent to sniff her golden hair and it was the drumming of the rain on the roof that finally lulled her into a restive sleep once more. She ignored concerns of what would unfold if she was found near a horse that was not hers. There were no soldiers and noone knew her mother's name. She had establshed that last night. All she would do is wait out the storm. That's all. Vanwe sighed nearly as heavily as her equine stall companion had as her eyelids flitted down to veil sapphire eyes.

[Sophia the Thunder Mistress]

Morwyn's eyes widened as she heard the last notes of the song emerge from the wooden flute. She pulled it away and looked at it. Had she really just played that herself? Nahai was still smiling, and she shook the little garland of bells around her wrist. The glad tinkling sound made other patrons of the in glance up and smile. Even the normally somewhat downcast elf Nannaliel was looking more cheerful.

A soft but clear Elven sounding voice spoke from beside Morwyn's shoulder. She turned to see a very small petite elf woman standing there. Morwyn thought she was the same woman who'd come in earlier with a hawk on her shoulder. She looked a little uncomfortable. "Certainly, you may play for a bit!" she answered Waen. "But do be gentle with it, it was a gift from a very dear friend." She shot Nahai a meaningful glance.

As she passed the wooden flute to the tiny elf woman, a male elf came by and dropped a drink off for her. The woman of Rohan nodded to him, then raised her eyebrows jokingly at Waen. "My, he's handsome!" The four women laughed, and Waen began to play.

[alaklondewen]

After some interesting communication with Aman, the sweet music from the flute could be heard throughout the common room. Estella mouthed the words ‘Thank you’ to Aman and then turned around to enjoy the music.

The melody seemed to have a positive effect on Waen, because she excused herself and went over to try her hand at the flute. Estella was glad to see that she looked like a weight had been lifted off her chest. Smiling at this positive turn of events, Estella turned back toward the table and began searching for Lothaniel. He must have passed behind her as she turned around because she didn’t see him until he appeared from behind her and placed her drink on the table. "I hope you were not alone long," he said and sipped at his wine.

“No, not long at all. Thank you for the drink, kind sir,” she took a sip of the soda and put the glass back on the table. “You’ve had a long journey from Rivendell…What brings you to the Shire?” She knew she’d talked his ear off about the Shire and was interested in hearing about a journey. This kind elf may have an interesting tale to tell.

[Tinuviel of Denton]

Niniel watched Soronume come back with a stranger, though she barely noted his presence before returning her gaze to Soronume. The stranger seemed more interested in Elwen anyway.

Soronume introduced them to the stranger. Niniel's heart beat very fast when he called her fair. She could hardly keep from staring at him, as rude as that would be.

As the stranger started to talk, Niniel paid no attention. She had eyes only for Soronume. Had anyone asked, she could have numbered the breaths he took and how many times he blinked his eyes. Had she the ability, she could have drawn every movement he made. She watched the way his eyes stayed on the speaker, giving the man his full attention. She memorized his unconcious grace and the way he turned his head.

Niniel was well and truly infatuated.

[Dorelnar]

The people in this inn were indeed friendly.

"I am Dorelnar, may the star people bless and guide you." smiled the man nodding his head as a gester of greeting. Soronume noticed he named the star people, what dealings had he had with them he wondered. Soronume glanced at Elwen, she was listening to the stranger, never taking her eyes from him. "I have travelled over many mountains in search of someone i lost long ago. She was a star maiden, but few remain so upon this earth that is why I was surprised by the lady's light. seldom do people of the stars retain what is theirs, most become simple elven people."

Te stranger paused to take a breath and noted that the other maiden had not taken her eyes from Soronume since he had returned to the table.

"This maiden i was searching for went by many names. She was in the sky a brillant star and her people were sad to let her leave but you see they had no choice. For she was dieing. She had fallen in love with a spirit tied to the earth and the pain she was carring was slow killing her spirit from the inside." Dorelnar smiled, he glanced at Elwen but she avoided his eyes, tears forming in the corners of hers.

"I met her when she had first fallen but she had lost much of her memory of the sky."
Dorelnar sat back sighing. "And so you see, i have travelled ever since looking for this maid."

[ May 20, 2003: Message edited by: Dorelnar ]

[Hilde Bracegirdle]

Now Gilly was not in the habit of frequenting the Green Dragon, so upon entering she thought she had stepped into some more exotic place like Bree. Flutes playing…so many strange folk had been passing through lately! What their business was in the Shire she just couldn’t figure, but Benia was another matter. True, she looked the stranger’s part, but she had a noble heart, as good as the best of hobbits. And her family had paid for their principles, more dearly than Gilly cared to recollect. They were a good lot, even if they were decidedly different.

So what is all this silly nervousness Gilly? This panic? She lectured herself. Do what you’d come for, you goose, before you work yourself into a jabbering fool, as you’re like to do soon enough!

The room was crowded as the hobbit worked her way around trying to discover which person might possibly be Benia. A cursory inventory of the patrons showed two likely candidates, a slight dark haired woman seated in a group to one side and a veiled one who somehow seemed solitary despite the crowd round her. Although the former looked more like the girl Gilly remembered, but she knew it was the later she sought. The evident reserve betrayed her history and lineage. And it was for her that Gilly made, ernstly hoping that no evil would befall as a result.

[ May 23, 2003: Message edited by: Hilde Bracegirdle ]

[Nerindel]

“You’ve had a long journey from Rivendell…What brings you to the Shire?”

"yes, indeed it was long," he said smiling at Estella who was sitting patiently waiting for him to speak. " Myself and my twin sister have come from Rivendell bringing a shipment of Miruvor to the inn, it is a gift from the Lords of Rivendell to the Lady Piosenniel to celebrate the birth of her new born twins." He took another sip of his wine before continuing "My sister is to stay and be a representative of our people at the naming ceremony of the twins, But I myself am here for other reasons."

Lóthaniels gaze shifted to were Fawain was seated her long dark hair held back by an emerald clip that he had once given her, as he looked at her fair slightly tanned features he could see the worry of the burden he had laid apon her. His usually sparkling eyes were full of guilt and worry of his own and his smile faded away, with a heavy heart and a sigh he turned back to Estella and continued his tale.

"I came here to tell my very dear friend Fawain Isilmeleo a ranger from Ithilien, that I knew of her father and had kept it from her per his wishes, Do not think badly of him he had many enemies and wished only to keep his family safe. But I also had to tell her that the same Orc that had killed her mother now held her father." Lóthaniel sighed again " and tomorrow we must leave to meet up with the Rangers of Annúminas to attempt to rescue him, for not only is he her father he is also a captain of the Rangers." as he spoke his heart grew heavier and heavier, He had fought beside Fawain many times and knew her to be a competent fighter, but some how he felt that this time would be different.

He took another sip of his wine and looked to the hobbit woman trying and no doubt failing miserably to put on a warm smile, to stop her from worrying too.

[Ealasaid]

"Where is it that you are from? asked Aman as she poured Benia's ale.

Benia hesitated an instant before answering. Was this a friend or a foe? Wary of strangers' questions, Benia studied Aman's face. The eyes seemed kind and the expression one of merely friendly interest. Benia decided that Aman was probably a friend and in the long run could prove a valuable one at that. Initially she had been wary of Aman's two companions, war-toughened, the both of them, but as soon as she had spoken the two men had left. Benia instantly felt more at ease. Lowering her veil, she revealed a dark-skinned oval face with arched black eyebrows and kohl-lined dark amber eyes. Her left nostril had been pierced and a fine silver chain ran across her cheek from the stud in her nose to her filigreed silver earring. Tiny silver coins ornamented the chain.

She smiled at Aman. "I was born in the land of the shifting sands, but now I am from nowhere."

After a short pause, she continued. "I've only been to The Shire once before, in what I would call another lifetime. Someone here, a hobbit, rendered me a great kindness. I was hoping to find her. Do you know a hobbit called Gilly? Gilly Burrows was the maiden, but I imagine that name has long changed."

[Maegaladiel]

Nahai felt as though she would swell up like a baloon with happiness. Morwyn had called her a "very dear friend", a title she had not held in many long years. She looked around at the small group of unlikely friends; a Beorning, a Rohan woman, and now, two elves whom she hoped she would soon be able to call friends.

Beaming, she patted Morwyn on the back as she finished her song.

"I told you that you could do it. You're a natural. All you needed was to believe in yourself." Yes, it sounded very hokey, but Morwyn didn't seem to mind. In fact, she looked as though she felt as happy as Nahai did.

The Beorning watched as Morwyn handed the flute to the elven woman who had recently joined them. A hawk perched up in the inn's rafters watched her intently. It was a beautiful creature, an animal of both grace and power.

"Is that hawk yours?" she asked the elf. The bird regarded her as though to say, "Nay, SHE is MY elf. Not the other way around." Smiling to the fair elven maiden, Nahai waited for her to reply.

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

Along the road of life, one faces many challenges. The road of an immortal life is agonizingly long and painful, paved with thorns and tears. The lone traveller did not need anyone to tell him that. His boots worn and mud-spattered, the signs of his true age showed plainly on his fair elven face, making him look strangely like an elder mortal trapped inside an ever-young form.

His tattered green hood cast a despairing shadow across his handsome visage, warping his stoic expression into one mixed with the same sadness and pain that dwelled deep in his heart. He seemed tired, as though he was forcing his body to walk when it had not rested in days. Fatigue did not worry him any longer. Neither did pain, he reminded himself as his bandaged calf sent shocks of white fire careening up and down his leg every time he walked. He touched the scar that decorated his right cheekbone. The sweat running down his face had made it sting and smart. This mere physical pain could not match that which he felt tearig apart the very depths of his soul. She was gone. He had lost her forever.

Biting his lip, he adjusted his quiver of arrows to divert his thoughts from her deep green eyes. His bow, after which he was named, was made of a highly polished wood and inlayed with mithril, giving it the impression of being a weapon wrought of silver.

He forced his mind to the road ahead. He was somewhere in the hobbits' lands now. The little folk had given him several odd glances, but seemed to be used to 'Big People' coming through these parts. A kind farmer had directed him to an inn where he could spend the night, the "Green Dragon."

"Plenty o' your types there, Mister elf," he said. Whether "His types" meant elves or dirty strangers, the traveler didn't know or care. The road goes ever on and on, he thought, and I shall follow it until I find her, whether in this life or the next.

[Amanaduial the archer]

The woman seemed to relax as Soronume and Lothaniel left for their own reasons, and to Amans relief, she lowered her veil, showing off her exotic face, silver shining from her nose and ear, her skin olive and face oval. Two deep amber, kohl rimmed eyes looked back at Aman and the Innkeeper smiled. To her relief, Benia smiled back.

"I was born in the land of the shifting sands, but now I am from nowhere." She carried on after a pause, seeming to be putting her trust in Aman. "I've only been to The Shire once before, in what I would call another lifetime. Someone here, a hobbit, rendered me a great kindness. I was hoping to find her. Do you know a hobbit called Gilly? Gilly Burrows was the maiden, but I imagine that name has long changed."

"Gilly...I can't say the name rings a bell-"

"My name was called?"

Benia spun around to see a cheerful, if a little nervous looking, hobbit standing behind her. Aman grinned. "Well, talk of the devil- a hobbit that appears when you speak its name, like a genie of the sands! Can I get you a drink, miss Gilly?"

[Arestevana]

Her response was cut short as the door creaked open, revealing a young, wide-eyed hobbit lass. Many of the guests, disinterested, returned to their discussions. The young hobbit crept up to the inkeeper, who was chatting with a guest near the fire. She stood silently, nervously, for several minutes.

When he saw her, the inkeeper crouched down to look her in the eye. In response to his gentle query, she whispered her name, Hannah. She handed him a small brown envelope with her mother's name penned in blue ink on the front. Hannah tailed along as the innkeeper crossed to the bar. She thanked him shyly when he handed her a mug of warm milk. Moving back to the hearth, the young hobbit crouched in a corner, sipping at her drink.

Hannah watched the other guests from her look out by the fire. She, naturally skittish, flinched whenever one of the "big folk" sauntered past. She could see all sorts of people at this inn, obviously a very popular one. She stared, awed, at each person. Listening to their stories, she soaked up the words. She loved the travelers' tales of adventure, but shy, remained alone.

[Snowdog]

Silvanis looked about the innas the din of converse and the soft caress of the flute drifted about. He nodded toward a woman inquiring at the bar and sipping an ale, with a carfully placed veil upon her.

'Lady Léspheria, see the one who stands at the bar with the veil, it is a land where ones such as she comes. I was there to a place amid the sands, called the Oasis. it was at times filled with people, and at others none. The dancers were captivating and the traders both tough and fair, yet one such as I from the north was watched warily. I would go through Ithilien on my way there, for it was easier to cross the Poros than the mouth of the Anduin.'

Silvanis drained his ale and stood again, looking about and noting the stablehand had not done as he asked, so he nodded to Lady Léspheria and said,

'I have to tend to my horse and give her free range for the night, for there will be trouble if left in the stables. It has been pleasure to converse with thee, and I will return shortly, and if you are still free I will return the favor of refreshment.'

He bowed to the lady and made way toward the door, looking over at the veiled woman who had taken to converse with a hobbit lass. Silvanis turned away when her eyes saw his, and he pushed his way out the door.

Silvanis made way to the stables, and Blackveil was being antsy and troubled. It was her way not being used to the enclosed spaces. Coming to her and taking her free, he paused, listening to the sounds of the stables...

[ May 20, 2003: Message edited by: Snowdog ]

[Alatariel Telemnar]

An elf appeared over the horizon as the sun was setting over middle-earth. Another day gone by, Alatariel thought, her dark blue shawl was towering above her face. She rode up to the Inn on her mare, which was pure white. Climbing off, she lead her into the Inn's stables. Making sure she had a decent stable, she left her there. "Be back shortly, Aranel," Alatariel said, calming the mare. She walked towards the Inn leaving Aranel behind.

Walking back to the entrance, she looked up to see the Inn's sign, The Green Dragon Inn. She walked inside. She saw several people sitting around tables and at bars. They were all lost in conversation, except for a few, who sat by themselves. She saw all different kinds, from elves, to dwarves, to hobbits. She walked over to the bar.

"Hello, may I have a glass of wine?" Alatariel said. The person walked away for a second. They came back with a glass of wine. "Thank you."

Alatariel walked over to an empty table in the corner. After settling down in the chair, she began sipping her wine while contemplating over life. The fire light was crackling as it bounced off the walls. Alatariel got something out of the pouch that was her mother's. It was a gold chain, with a pendant at the bottom. She was thinking over her life, her journey in life, how far she had gone, how far she has to go.

[ May 21, 2003: Message edited by: Alatariel Telemnar ]

[Alatariel Telemnar]

Alatariel rubbed her finger along the heart locket. A lovely pattern on the locket. All of the sudden, a breeze blew across her face, which was pleasant compared to the heat of the fire. Someone had opened a window to let in the cool night air. Alatariel put her hood down on her back to feel the cool air, which let you see her long, dark brown hair that shined in the firelight. Her soft, green eyes gave off a glint of light. The breeze blew across her soft. fair skin, which reminded her of some of her good times in the past, soft summer breezes, warm sunlight.

She looked to see who it was that opened the window. A young hobbit-lass, who had apparently thought it was a bit too stuffy in here. Looking back down to the locket, she opened it, revealing a picture of a beautiful, woman with soft, green eyes and flowing brown hair. Alatariel knew that what once was, is now lost. She was left to wandering middle-earth, but she did not mind. She felt something special in this place, a warm welcoming feeling.

She saw a bit of a ruckuss over near the open window. The young hobbit-lass' mother came over. "Don't open that window, you might give some of the other guests a chill." The mother said, closing the window.

Alatariel, disapionted in the window being closed, put her hood back over her head, leaving her face to be covered in shadows. She sat back in the chair and watched the other guests.

[ElenCala Isil]

The wind rustled in her ears, her vision keen as ever. By now the young elf-maiden could see the inn, and she sped up, longing for rest for a while. "Noro lim" she told her mare, dark as a whisp of midnight. As the time wore on, she had finally reached the inn. She slowed down, and dismounted her horse.

Eruanna drew her cloak of the most magnificent hue of silver about her, and strolled swiftly into the inn, her long dark hair flowing as she walked. As soon as she had entered, she slowed down. Scanning the area with her eyes, she looked on at the people all around her. Hobbits, and elves, and men all intermingled enjoying themselves. She was pleased with the sight, and decided to sit a while and rest, watching the others.

She drew back her cloak, revealing her raiment of deep majestic blue. She was a fair elf, with brilliant gray eyes, and light skin.

[ May 20, 2003: Message edited by: ElenCala Isil ]

[alaklondewen]

As Estella listened to the elf her heart was moved by his tale. She didn’t know the places he was talking about, but she was filled with compassion and wanted to reach out and comfort him. Although she had never had children, her maternal instinct was strong and she wished she could help. With a soft smile, she watched is eyes and followed his gaze to the blond woman across the room. Before he continued and told her, Estella knew where his heart was.

She picked up her mug again as he finished and drained it. Poor fellow, she thought. He was putty on a brave face, but Estella could see right through it.

“I am sorry you are going through this. You are such a nice man…elf…person,” she stammered. This brought a smile to his face and he chuckled. “You know this reminds me of story. Old Seredic Boffin, who’s now well in his 80’s, was orphaned as a young hobbit lad. Sad it was. First his mother was trampled by a mad cow, and then his father was bucked by the same cow when he tried to put it down for killing his wife.” She nodded as in agreement with her own words. Thinking this was a comparable event to what was happening to poor Fawain, Estella waited politely for Lothaniel’s approval.

[Kates Frodo Temp]

The pair entered the inn, smiling and laughing merrily. "Not boisterous," Elhor thought as he watched from his corner, "just full of happiness!" He couldn't imagine how anyone could be so completely content; he would watch, as always, and learn their secret.

They continued in their own world, standing in the doorway chatting pleasantly. Finally the young hobbit mentioned something to her companion about letting in the night air, and they moved to a table.

Elhor couldn't hear them anymore, but that didn't matter. They weren't saying anything of importance, just enjoying each other's company. The boy had said the name "Rosemary" when they first came in. He could have been talking about anyone, but the name certainly fit the blue eyed hobbit lass.

While he waited for a chance to move closer, (Elhor didn't want to seem as if he were eavesdropping) he busied himself by noting every detail concerning the new arrivals. Rosy cheeks, large blue eyes and reddish-brown hair for the lady...no, not a lady: she could have been no older than fifteen summers! She was wearing a sky blue pinafore, dusty from travel, and looked eagerly up into her companions face.

Mostly the boy returned her gaze with an indulgent expression, but his mind was elsewhere. He managed to keep up a steady flow of small talk, so the girl, Rosemary, was satisfied. His raven black hair, which badly wanted cutting, contrasted sharply with pale skin and blue eyes. Everything about him was small, but not in a way that made him look frail or sickly. Quite the opposite! He was the picture of health and beauty.

He was no older than Rosemary, but was, Elhor could tell by his look and collected manner of speaking, very "old for his age." A smile hovered constantly on his lips, and glinted in his eye.

Rosemary did most of the talking, but one could tell that she would have been silent if not for her friend. The looks he gave her, the few words he spoke, were full of the things she longed to here, and as she talked she was soaking up his pleasure.

Elhor could tell she adored him, and that he relished it, but they were only friends, partners in some childish frolic that had brought here, and would take them right back out the door.

"Why should it matter to me?" It didn't! Surely he was only watching them to occupy his mind! Why, then, did his heart ache for them to stay?

[Annalaliath]

Annalaliath tired of waiting for the new one walked over to Morwen," what do you have in mind?" she asked. Looking at he in a quisical way because of the flute that Morwen had Annalaliath laughed, "What have you two been up to?"

Then pushing her hair behind her ear again she sipped at some more coffee and looked from Nahi to Morwen. "Mischief is the word of the day and mischief it shall be."

[Elora]

Vanwe woke somewhat confused and startled. She had no idea how she came to be in possession of the horse blanket that was presently wrapped around her. Nor could she rightly say how she had come by a partially stale loaf of bread. Nearby rested an open saddle bag that did not belong to her. She stared at it in befuddlement until again she heard a sound that came from nearby. Through the cracked stall door she had tucked herself behind she peered into the darkened stall. The storm had lent a murky cast to what little light managed to struggle through their veil.

She could make out boots, a man's if she judged the size correctly and her heart sank a little further into her stomach. Daring not to push the blanket or saddle bag from her and beneath the straw, Vanwe did as best she could to uncurl her legs from beneath her. The comfort of being dry was now distant from her mind. This was all too familiar for her liking. Eyes fixed on the pair of boots she could see, Vanwe crouched as her mind spun. She could be quiet. It was a skill she had come to depend upon when she found herself in such predictaments. She had chosen the stall furthermost from the door so as to avoid any rain blown through the door. It meant no likely route past the man that stood in the stables.

Vanwe dared glance around her. There was no door in the back of the stables. Her cheeks coloured faintly at her foolishness. What had she been thinking to move into the stables and appropriate other people's blankets and stale bread. Where she came from, theft brought a harsh and sudden penalty and she flexed the fingers of her right hand as she recalled witnessing such justice as a child. Another sound of boots moving in the straw brought eyes that gleamed with finely honed fear sharply back into focus.

Above her was a ladder which lead to the overhead hay loft. If she was fast, and she could be, she could climb and use the upper loft as her path to the door. The drop to the door could be managed if she rolled correctly. The man circled as he looked around the stable, his horse nickering softly. She had not time to disregard the blanket, and so with it still hooked over her shoulders Vanwe rose when the man had turned away to examine the other corner.

She fled lightly up the ladder in a swirl of hair and skirts and dove behind the nearest bail of hay. Dust plumed towards the rafters above her and tickled her nose as she landed. But what was worse than that was the sound of a faint thunk as her pouch dropped to the stable floor. Vanwe sucked in a startled breath and froze. Below, the sound of feet crossing to her pouch sounded and she risked crawling forward on her stomach to peer from the loft. She got to the edge just in time to see the man bend and retrieve her pouch.

Her eyes went wide as he straightened, for within it was all her worldly possessions. She watched him open the strings and tip the contents into his outstretched hand. The pencil fell to the floor, her three coppers landed on top of her notes and a sick feeling spun in her stomach with the bread. She could not leave without the notes. The coins she would make do without.

She glanced towards the stable doors through which freedom tantilisingly beckonned and then back at the man below. With shock she realised he was staring up at her. Their eyes met in a flash. Vanwe opened her mouth and then closed it again as she shook her head lightly in dismay, blonde hair swaying around her face in a pale curtain dotted with straw.

"Please," she began.

There was nothing else for it. She could not go without the notes for they represented all she had. The names of her parents were everything she could call her own. Not even could she call the village in Harad her own home, for it had never been. The villagers themselves had seen to that. With memories of desert hardened men pressing close to her, Vanwe sighed and slowly got to her feet. Not so quickly did she now descend the ladder and she hesitantly turned to face the man who waited below.

Her dress had lost any advantage of the airing of the night before, and tousseled and dusty Vanwe slowly advanced to stand just out of his reach as best she could judge. She knew better than to speak first. Wide eyes in a grave youthful face steadily watched him as she waited for him to speak.

Her left hand was wrapped around her slim right wrist as though to guard against the axe's bigght which would surely follow, for she was thief, she had no kin to buy her reprieve and worst of all she had been foolish enough to allow herself to be caught. It was never as safe as it seems, even at nice inns like this, when you had no business in the wider world. As he studied her crumpled appearance, Vanwe braced herself for what would follow.

[Tinuviel of Denton]

"I met her when she had first fallen but she had lost much of her memory of the sky."
Dorelnar sat back sighing. "And so you see, i have travelled ever since looking for this maid."

Niniel started at this apparent end to the stranger's tale. She had only caught bits of it. Why was Elwen weeping? She shook her head, as though clearing it of cobwebs. She looked between Dorelnar and Elwen. There seemed to be some sort of rapport there, one she envied.

She felt out of place again. There was no real reason for her to remain, but she did. Idly, she began writing on a scrap of paper that someone had left on the table.

I was alone in a cold, cruel world.
And I feared to have my story told.

Then the Moon stepped down from the sky,
And I tried so hard to catch his eye.

But I couldn't see very far.

[ May 20, 2003: Message edited by: Tinuviel of Denton ]

[Hilde Bracegirdle]

“Can you get me a drink! You know your moneys no good with me Miss Benia!”

Gilly’s fears quickly subsided as she saw the familiarity of gesture and glance. Perhaps the face was broadened by age, but the young girl had grown into a woman possessing the strength and elegance of those who carry a their troubles in silence. It was good to see her again, and under less pressing circumstances.

The hobbit reminded herself, caution would be wise. She had noticed a man look at Benia and quickly depart. It was likely nothing but served as reminder. The war was long since won but those seduced by the power of corruption still remained, and a dwindling number of refugees. Taking the tattooed hand in hers Gilly guided Benia to a table facing the door.

“I don’t expect you’d have eaten yet?”

“No. No not yet.” Benia replied.

We’ll soon fix that now won’t we? Make your self comfortable and just give me a minute.” The hobbit said as she went to see about some food.

[ May 20, 2003: Message edited by: Hilde Bracegirdle ]

[Katt b]

Waen finished playing the small flute and handed it back to the maiden."Thank you I have not played an instrument in at least..Oh 3 years,the sound always puts my mind at ease."

Is that Hawk yours? The maiden asked."Yes,she is mine so to speak,just as I am hers.We are kindred spirits,our lives are intertwined,we were ment to find each other."

"Would you like to met her?" The young elven maiden smiled and nodded. Waen let out a short whistle and the bird flew to her shoulder. "Her name is Kitathas, I found her hurt when she was young and unable to fend for herself. I took her and cared for her,now we are life long friends. She comes with me to give me strength."

Kitathas began to get restless."Please excuse me ladies but Kitathas tells me she needs some fresh air." Waen strode back to the table where Estella and Lothaniel were deep in conversation. "Sorry to interupt." Waen said with a smile. "but would either of you care to join me on the steps outside for a breath of fresh air?" Waen smiled again and waited for a reply.

[ May 21, 2003: Message edited by: Katt b ]

[Nerindel]

Lóthaniel lifted his mug it his lips trying to hide the grin that spread across his face, he didn't wish to offend the hobbit. He of course knew what she was trying to do in her own hobbitish way, but hearing Skaikrish the maimer being compared with a cow almost made him burst out laughing. Composing himself he put down his mug and nodded for her to continue.
--------------------------------------------

Fawain had grown tired, It was getting late and they still had to finnish packing. She thanked Daethaur for his help and said "If you still wish to come with us you are more than welcome, we leave at dawn." Daethaur nodded his understanding, so she folded up the map carefully and looked around the room for Lóthaniel.

She spotted him sitting at a table with a small Hobbit woman, so she walked over and placed her hand on Lóthaniel's shoulder, turning to the hobbit woman she smiled pleasantly saying "I am very sorry but I am afraid that I have to steal your company from you, we have a long journey ahead of us tomorrow, the hour is late and we still have much packing to do." The hobbit woman nodded her understanding, smiling knowingly at Lóthaniel. Lóthaniel then spoke to Estella saying "It looks like your story will have to wait, perhaps you could tell it to me the next time I pass through? It has been a great pleasure speaking with you my dear lady." He then took her hand and kissed it gently.

As he was about to stand to leave Wean had appeared and was asking if either of them cared to join her for some fresh air, he turned to her saying "Alas dear lady I am just leaving, but I'm sure that Estella would love to join you." and with that he took Fawain's arm gently and escorted her to her room.

[Nerindel]

After Silvanis had left, Léspheria suddenly remembered that she was supposed to be helping the inkeeper. She lifted the empty mugs and silver tray from the table and made her way back to the kitchen.

The two hobbits she had seen before were now busily trying to tidy up. As she entered the cook looked up from the floor were she was busy scrubbing and glaring at Léspheria's dirty boots she said "Can I help you miss?" Just then the other hobbit, who she remembered had been called buttercup turned around to look at her and recognising the elf from earlier she said "Oh, you didn;t find miss Archer then." Léspheria smiled and slipped out of the boot saying "Indeed I did find her and I shall be helping out around the inn for as long as I am needed or until my brother returns which ever comes first" she laughed warmly.

The two weary hobbits were now beaming and looked more than a little relieved to have a fresh pair of hands. Cook got up from the floor and literally dragged the elf across the room to the sink, next to this sink was a large pile of very dirty dishes. Léspheria's smile faded as she realised what the cook wanted her to do, "Cami has been promising us dishwashers all week but as yet none have arrived, so do you mind," the hobbit said smiling hopefully up at her. How could she refuse these two hobbits looked exhausted, her smile returned as she looked to the cook saying "not at all, not at all, it shall be my pleasure to help you out," and with that she pulled up her sleeves and plunged her hands into the warm soapy water and began washing.

[alaklondewen]

Lothaniel seemed to understand Estella’s story about the Boffin’s, and that satisfied her. It had been a long while since she’d had a willing participant in listening to her talk. Taking a deep breath, Estella realized that she almost didn’t leave her hole that evening. She had felt anxious at first, and was now filled with relief at how the evening had taken shape.

Being always thirsty, Estella looked around again for the Innkeeper. What a nice girl, she thought as she watched the pleasant woman behind the bar. She was beginning to feel quite pleasant herself after three drinks.

When she looked back at Lothaniel, the beautiful woman from across the room was approaching their table. It look as though her wonderful company was going to leave, but she understood in her own hobbit way. All of these adventures to go on…why, they should just stay here in the Shire, she thought as she smiled warmly at them. Lothaniel reached out and placed a kiss on her hand. Estella was not used to being treated like a lady, and she blushed turning her eyes away from him for a moment.

“Would either of you care to join me on the steps outside for a breath of fresh air?” Estella heard a voice behind her and was startled a little. Turning around in her chair, she found Waen. This was a pleasant surprise and Estella answered, “Fresh air sounds wonderful.”

She pushed her weight off the edge of the chair, then smoothed her dress before saying, “I heard your flute playing. Very nice. Very nice.” She nodded up at Waen giving her approval and a little admiration.

[piosenniel]

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[Envinyatar]

Elora

Please check your PM's.

[Ealasaid]

"My name was called?"

Benia recognized the voice instantly. She whirled so quickly in the direction from whence it had come that her elbow barely missed the fresh pint of ale that Aman had just placed on the bar for her.

"Well, talk of the devil - a hobbit that appears when you speak its name..." Aman chuckled behind her, but Benia barely heard her.

"Gilly!" she exclaimed. "It's been so long."

"Can I get you a drink, Miss Gilly?" asked Aman.

"Anything she wants." Benia told her excitedly. "Please. It's on my bill."

"Can you get me a drink! You know your money's no good with me, Miss Benia!" Gilly scolded her cheerfully. She then took Benia's tattooed hand and led her away to a table near the door. Benia found herself following, or rather allowing herself to be led, all the while wearing an amused smile on her face. How little Gilly had changed!

The last time Benia had seen Gilly, the hobbit lady had been but a mischievous lass, barely out of pinafores. Now she was a rosy-cheeked and no doubt respectable hobbit matron, but the warmth of her heart and the generosity of her soul were exactly as Benia had remembered them. She had needed that warmth and generosity so desperately back in the old days when she and her parents had been on the run, so closely pursued and so close to death. She wondered if Gilly ever imagined how much her friendship had meant to her. Tears of remembrance glistened at the corners of Benia's exotic eyes. She, herself, had never forgotten.

Gilly, however, was preoccupied at the moment with settling Benia into a chair and, in true hobbit fashion, obtaining supper. Benia watched her bustle away toward the kitchen. She hadn't really even had a chance to say hello! She had had so much she planned to say to Gilly when she found her again. In fact, she had been writing speeches in her head for years, but now that the time had come to deliver them, she was at a loss for words. She simply watched the retreating back, thinking to herself, friend. This is my friend.

As Gilly vanished into the kitchen, Benia found herself alone again on the fringe of the crowded common room. She glanced toward the door. Had she imagined it? It seemed to her that just as Gilly had appeared and spoken to her, she had turned and seen a man standing in the doorway, watching her. As soon as her eyes lit on him, he had turned and vanished. She wished she had paid closer attention. The old question began gnawing at her again. Was he a friend or a foe?

[ May 21, 2003: Message edited by: Ealasaid ]

[Alatariel Telemnar]

Alatariel saw several of the guests, get up and leave to the rooms. Looking towards the entrance she saw a few hobbits walk in. They seemed very jolly folk, very happy. She looked down at the gold locket, then quickly put it away in her pouch after seeing a person walk closely behind her. She took the last sip of her wine. She pulled her hood down more over her face, which hid her face almost entirly, then slowly dozed off, leaving one eye partially open like a cat.

Something startled her, she fluttered her eyes open. Someone, apparently an innkeeper, had walked by and noticed the empty glass.

"Shall I refill this, or would you just like me to take it away?" she said.

"Oh, yes, you may take them away. Thank you," Alatariel replied with a smile.

She looked up again to watch all of the people. She saw that many of them had left to go to their rooms. Wondering how long she had been asleep she got up out of the table. She yearned to feel the fresh air, so she decided to take a walk outside.

She kept a quick paste, until outside. Relieved to have some fresh air, she drew back her hood. Her soft, green eyes shone in the moonlight. She looked up at the moon to see how long she had been asleep. The moon was straight above her head. Alatariel was amazed at the time. She felt Aranel was getting lonely, so she walked over to the Inn's stables.

She walked in to see Aranel wide awake. Alatariel took her out of her stable to calm her. She walked her out into the moonlight. Her coat shone bright in the light. The wind rustled their hair slightly "You will be alright by yourself," she said to Aranel, stoking her soft, silky mane.

She left her there and walked back into the Inn. Strolling back to her table, she saw a few hobbits chatting together at a table. They continued to talk about a birthday party they had attended the other day, how it was one of the best birthday parties they had seen in a few years. Alatariel reached her table unoticed by the several groups. Her hood still hung down from her shawl. After sitting back down again in the wooden chair, she put her hood back over her face, then slowly dozed off, keeping one eye partially open, a trick she had learned in her younger days.

[ May 21, 2003: Message edited by: Alatariel Telemnar ]

[ May 21, 2003: Message edited by: Alatariel Telemnar ]

[Katt b]

Waen smiled at Estella."Thank you,Kit needs some fresh air and I think I do too!I thought you might like to join me."

As the hobbit woman rose off her seat, Waen noticed she was not too much shorter than herself,she could not help but smile.She liked this Hobbit and hoped they would become friends.She stroked Kits feathers as they made their way to the door.

As she opened the door the fresh evening air blew her hair out from it's tie,Waen stepped out and held the door for the hobbit."Thank you"she replied. Waen walked down the steps and held her arm out.The hawk flew majestically from her shoulder off into the evening sky.

Waen turned then to the hobbit."I love the outdoors in the evenings, so refreshing,so full of life." Waen tipped her head back and inhaled deeply."I love this place,Estella will you tell me more of your people and this beautiful land,Kit will be gone for a while,she was hungry.If you would like to sit for awhile till she comes back I would love to hear about them.

Waen pulled her bow off her shoulder and fiddled with it while she sat on the steps beside the hobbit and looked at her waiting for a reply.

[Envinyatar]

‘So, the sleeper awakes at last. Fortunate for you, you chose ‘Falmar’s stall. Her mistress is Elven, too.’ His grey eyes flickered with pleasant memories.

Derufin kept the patter going, soft phrases, soothing tones. He half expected her to bolt like a wild filly as she stood there before him, one hand clasping the wrist of the other. Her dress was rumpled, travel stained, and worn. Bits of straw clung to it. In the tangles of her hair were pieces of grey threads from the horse blanket he had placed over her.

‘May I be of some small service to you? I have some small skill with healing.’ He reached for her right hand gently, bringing it close for inspection. ‘You’re wrist, m’lady, have you injured it?’

He let it go, feeling her hesitancy at his touch . . .

[ElenCala Isil]

As she sat, she slowly began to sing a sweet melody. There were no words to it, moreover a mere vocalization. She sung it only to herself, and it became a sad, sad lullaby. It came natural to her, and yet seemed as though she was singing from afar, watching herself sing, if such a thing were possible.

A young hobbit lass walked up to Eruanna “My, what a lovely song,” the hobbit started, “but,” she paused “but it sounds so sad.”

Eruanna awoke from her trance, and looked upon the hobbit. She felt a tear welling up in her eye. “Yes,” she said slowly, “Yes, it does, doesn’t it?” and with those words, a tear tore down her silken complexion. The hobbit proceeded in asking what the matter was, but little words could Eruanna think of, without producing another tear. Eruanna drifted off again, reaching within herself, and thinking of her homeland. Never before had she missed it so much, until now.

The hobbit prepared to leave Eruanna, in her sulking, but stayed. For once again Eruanna lifted her voice, quietly, and began her melody again. Her voice did not break, but remained strong, as if tainted with anger, except for another tear that was streaming down her face. As she sung, she felt a chill run through her, and draped her cloak close about her, once more hiding her royal blue raiment. Before she knew what she was doing, the hobbit had asked her why she had stopped singing.

“If you’ll please excuse me,” she said, her voice faltering, “I must go” She immediately began to run out the door, and stopped just outside the inn. Eruanna sat for a moment on a nearby bench, crying.

Eruanna felt a tap on her shoulder, and looked up, there was no one there, but there was a letter addressed to her. She opened it slowly, and read it. It had been a letter from the love of her life. Upon reading the letter, she understood her sorrow. She was in love, and she was separated from the one she loved. One day, I vow to thee, one day, I shall return, she promised secretly, but for now she was stationed in The Shire, at the inn, and she had decided to make the most of it.

Once again, she walked into the inn, and ordered herself a drink. Yet again, she sat, not sure whether she felt relieved, or stressed, and watched again- she searched. The hobbit lass was no where to be found.

[Tinuviel of Denton]

Mardath strode into the inn, brushing at his cloak and hair and muttering something incoherent under his breath about the rain. He was a tall, broad-shouldered man, black-bearded and weathered. His eyes were a surprisingly bright and merry green, the color of new leaves.

He stopped just inside the door and surveyed the tables, as though the inn and all it contained were just a part of a kingdom. His kingdom. Mardath clumped over to the bar and loudly called for ale. Then, when the innkeeper looked at him rather sternly, he sheepishly repeated his request, much more quietly.

When Aman delivered his drink, he tapped her arm and gestured to a table in the corner, where two men and two women were seated. One of the women looked familiar, like an old friend of his. Or maybe an old friend's daughter.

"D'ye think they'd mind 'f I were to join 'em?" he asked, still quietly. That , where had he seen her before?

"I don't think they would, but ask them," Aman replied.

"Think I will."

He strode over to the table in the corner and grinned. Without bothering to ask, he sat down next to the . "Heyla, miss. I'm Mardath." He extended his hand.

He didn't notice the way she shrank from him, or the way one of the men frowned at him. What he did notice was as near nothing as makes no difference.

Now, Mardath was not really the sort of person a mother would approve of her child bringing home. He was a hunter, coarse and rough. But he had a good heart and wouldn't hurt a fly. Unless someone attacked him or someone whom he considered under his protection.

[arelendil]

Elwen smiled and brushed the tears away. She looked up at Dorelnar. He smiled at her waiting for her to speak. Elwen sighed, slowly untying her hair, shaking the now free waves back into place and smoothing down her midnight blue tunic.

She sighed again, moving forward in her chair. "Yes." she began, "I have indeed heard that tale before. But though i was she, i can not claim that her name to myself anymore. I am Elwen, i was named that long ago by someone." Elwen smiled, placing her hands on the table.

Dorelnar looked deep into Elwen's eyes, searching them. A silver ring flashed on his finger as he placed his hand on top of hers. "i can only apologise for that. My knowledge of your people was then limited and you took me by surprise." He laughed.

Elwen shook her head. "Don't apologise. it was the name I was destined to receive."

Elwen glanced at Niniel and Soronume and then back at Dorelnar. He squeezed her hand, then let it go. The others at the table seemed bored. Others, someone new had joined them.

Elwen laughed, she been so consumed she hadn't noticed him. Elwen smiled at him asking, "Who are you?"

[Gorothlammothiel]

"Who are you?" asked Elwen noticing a stranger had sat himself at their table. "I'm Mardath," he repeated extending his hand a second time, "did you not hear my first introduction?" he asked with a chuckle.

"On the contrary Sir," replied Soronume, "you spoke so loudly I would not be surprised if the entire inn hadn't heard your name." he finshed without a smile, staring straight into Mardath's eyes. Soronume noticed the appearance of this man had made Niniel quite uncomftable. "If I spoke so loudly, elf, why'd the lady ask me my name again?" Soronume's eyes narrowed at this last remark from Mardath.

Before Soronume could say anything back to the man who sat comfortably at their table, Dorelnar spoke. "Perhaps, Mardath, the lady Elwen did hear you, but was busy enough in her own thoughts not to realise that you had introduced yourself?" Mardath took his gaze off Soronume and towards Dorelnar. "Aye, maybe" his voice softened.

"Well," Mardath continued, shrugging away the tension that had consumed the table, "you now are all aware of my name, but I only the fair Lady Elwen's." He extended his hand and took hers. "Will you not introduce yourselves to me?"

"Yea, Mardath" Soronume was the first to reply and he forced a smile onto his face as he reached out and shook Mardath's hand. He did not take kindly to being called 'elf'. "I am Soronume, sir, and would rather the use of my name than that of my race"

[alaklondewen]

“Estella will you tell me more of your people and this beautiful land,” Waen asked her sincerely. “Why, I would be delighted,” Estella replied. She pulled her skirt up just enough to sit down on the step beside Waen, then smoothed and arranged it appropriately. The air had a wonderful fragrance this evening, and Estella took several deep breaths enjoying it thoroughly.

“Well, hobbits are simple folk. Yes, simple is the right word,” she nodded in agreement. “We don’t go on adventures, or at least the decent folk don’t. The old tales say we used live with the big folk, like they do in that Bree.” She threw her arm out it a vague direction that was supposed to be toward Bree. “Old Marcho and Blanco’s the ones that founded the Shire. That was a long time ago…” Estella continued to tell the elf all about the history of the Shire, or at least as much as she knew and if she didn’t know it…she made it up. The story, of course, included precisely how she was related to everyone she named.

After an inappropriate amount of time talking, Estella finally stopped and turned back to Waen. Putting her hand to her mouth, she coughed twice. “Please, tell me how you found the Shire?” She figured she’d talked the poor elf’s ear off and wanted to hear some of her tale.

[Hilde Bracegirdle]

It struck the foreigner as amusing to have a small and relatively sheltered hobbit adopt the self-appointed role of her protector in Bywater's inn. It was very much like her friend though, to rush out and take up a project with out thinking it through properly. Their friendship been a direct result of the trait.

Benia rose to lend assistance to Gilly after she spied the hobbit threading her way around the myraid tables, arms ladened with a dish, cutlery and a tea cup.

"Oh that cup is hot!" exclaimed Gilly. "I thought I'd save some time by providing our own service" she explained with a wink. "Hope you like the food, it's not like Mother's, but I hear it's quite good." She began wiping off the cutlery carefully examining each piece. "But like they say, 'best way to stay well is to eat at home'. I guess you never know who might be washing the dishes at a place like this...."

After her ritual was completed, Gilly seated herself behind the teacup and gazed at Benia not knowing how to begin. There were so many things she wanted to ask, but she was acutely aware of the cultural differences, and dearly did not wish to offend Benia by bring up anything that might be concidered delicate.

[ May 23, 2003: Message edited by: Hilde Bracegirdle ]

[Alatariel Telemnar]

Alatariel was suddenly awoken by the sound of a plate hitting the hard wooden floor. She jerked open her eyes and looked towards the place the noise had occurred. She saw a young hobbit-lad. He had apparently been taking the food back to his table when it slipped out of his fingers. He was exactly 24 and a half, with short, curly brown hair. Alatariel could sense his age. She had always been able to sense things, ever since she was little. She felt his embarrassment as several people turned and chuckled. She felt sorry for the young lad, and decided to help him. She got up from the wooden table, and walked towards him. She bended down onto her knee, her dark brown hair tumbling over her shoulder, “Here, I will help you,” she said starting to pick up the food on the floor.

“No that’s okay, you don’t have to. I’m fine,” he said. He looked up at Alatariel’s face. His dark brown eyes met hers. Suddenly there was a flash of light only visible to the both of them. They saw into each other’s lives, knowing all the pain both of them had been through. Then, they were suddenly jerked out of the daze.

“Please, allow me,” Alatariel continued to help pick up the food. They soon had all the food on the plate. Alatariel stood up back on her feet. She reached out her hand gently, “Here, let me help you up.”

The hobbit grasped her hand firmly. His hands were damp from sweating. They were very warm. She pulled him up gently. “Thank you,” he said gratefully, still embarrassed about the incident.

“It’s no trouble, just helping out,” she replied.

“Well, thank you. See you around,” the hobbit said taking the plate up to the bar.

Alatariel was pleased at the thought of helping someone out. She walked back up to the bar, feeling quite a bit thirsty. She looked out the window to see what time it was. Rain poured outside, making her unable to find out what time it was. She put her hood down, and then put back her shawl, revealing a sky blue gown. It flowed all the way down to the floor. Strolling to the bar, she saw several people leave the Inn. She walked up to the bar, and sat on a stool next to what appeared to be an elf. She had dark, brown hair, and soft grey eyes. She seemed to be enjoying her drink, which Alatariel could not recognize, but it looked tasty. The bartender walked over to her, “May I help you?”

“Yes, I’d like what this lady hear is having,” she pointed to the reddish liquid in the container.

“Okay, I’ll have you one in just a second,” the person said walking away. She arrived back shortly with a glass of the reddish liquid.

“Umm, excuse me, but what is this called?” Alatariel asked.

“It’s a homemade thing. Fairly knew. No name yet.”

“Oh, okay,” Alatariel began to sip at the beverage. She slowly drifted away from reality. She was thinking back to her past. She reached into her pouch, and pulled out the gold locket, and then began to feel the patterns along it.

[ May 22, 2003: Message edited by: Alatariel Telemnar ]

[Elora]

When Derufin stepped past Silvanis and changed the odds considerably, Vanwe had all but abandoned her strategy to try to talk her way out of the predictament. Her expression became one of startlement as he stepped forward and took her wrist into his hands. He held it easily and gently probed. There was no anger in his hands and confusion whirled around Vanwe.

"No," she softly replied in surprise. At least, not yet. Derufin released her and she grasped to make some sense of events. Why had he named her a lady when it was clear to see her rank was far from such lofty heights? He had given her the blanket and food? Perhaps she would not loose her hand.

"I... I can pay for the bread," Vanwe added as he studied her. Her eyes slid to where Silvanis still held the contents of her pouch. He was watching intently, having read the names and notes on the pape he had. Self consciously, she plucked at some of the straw that had remained with her after her tumble through the hay in the loft above. The idea that a beggar had anything of value with which to pay for food should have had Derufin amused or puzzled.

"I have three coppers," she said in a firmer voice, straightening a little. They were her last three, but if it kept her hand attached to her wrist then it was a small price to keep herself whole. "And I would not have left with your blanket."

In demonstration of that statement, she removed it from her shoulders and noted the state it was in. Vanwe's cheeks coloured faintly as she shook at it and she offered it to Derufin with an earnest smile, taking a small step forward. Silvanis still had not moved. He was looking carefully at her face and fear lanced through Vanwe that like many others he had mistaken her for her mother.

Yet even as she stood uncertainly in the stable with two men who could easily haul her away for squatting, theft and her mother's crimes, something else occured to Vanwe. He had given her the blanket and bread. Puzzled, she gazed at Derufin with her head cocked to one side. Such kindness mystified Vanwe.

"Thankyou, sir. I really can pay," she said. "If three coppers are not enough, then I can work."

Vanwe had no idea how much bread cost, for she had never purchased it before which was why she had thought she had not purchased the current loaf in question. And she could indeed work. Despite her slender size, the villagers had soon learnt how their elven fosterling could be put to use and so kept from the mischief her mother found.

She tried as best she could to smooth her hair into some semblance of order, remove the straw and dust from her cloak and dress and somehow create the impression she was more reputable than her appearance may suggest. From beneath the detrius of the stables and a hard road from Harad, Vanwe endeavoured to smile as best she could for sometimes people responded well to her smile and Derufin did not seem angry. That little she could understand. Yet her eyes slid to Silvanis who had remained silent and motionless. He had an intent expression on her face and Vanwe could not but wonder whether she was again to run afoul in a wide world that was no longer an elven demense and dangerous for the cast off daughter of one of Sauron's most notorious allies.

Perhaps, if all else fails, she would need to run. In storm she could try to loose them. Another study of Silvanis faded that hope somewhat. He did not look to be someone easily lost in storms or wilderness. How could she have come all this way to be cornered in a stable? She should never have left the village.

[ElenCala Isil]

There was something mysterious about the hobbit lass, but Eruanna did not let on. There was a myriad of hobbits at the inn on this particular time, but there was no way that the hobbit could have been lost in the crowd. For one, she had beautiful blonde hair, like a stream of flowing gold. Her eyes, green as emeralds. And moreover, there was a connection between Eruanna and the hobbit.

Eruanna was shaken from her search when she heard a clatter. She looked up slowly, half-expecting to see the hobbit-lass, but instead it was another hobbit, and an elf maiden aiding him. She went back to her drink, thinking no longer on the subject.

Slowly, her hand reached across the table, and picked up the letter. She opened it up, and read it to herself over and over. She gazed longingly at the golden ink, and beautiful calligraphy spelling out “My Dearest Eruanna,” deep, deep in her thoughts she heard the melody forming. It became louder, clearer and clearer. Eruanna raised her head, awakening from her thoughts, and she could hear the melody beside her.

There stood the hobbit, singing the song that Eruanna sung a while before.

[piosenniel]

smilies/biggrin.gif ~*~*~*~*~*~ smilies/smile.gif The Summons RPG smilies/smile.gif ~*~*~*~*~*~ smilies/biggrin.gif

Burzdol, owner - The Discussion Thread is open to take on characters.

3 Rangers, male, are still needed.

Check it out!

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First Posts must accompany your Character Description forms for this game. It is a requirement of the owner.

This means that Character Descriptions without First Posts on them will not be considered for the Game. They will be returned to the writer – and can be resubmitted later with the First Post on it.

~~ Piosenniel, Shire Moderator

[Alatariel Telemnar]

She rubbed her fingers across the locket, and began to daze off... She thought about her past, her mom, her life, her journey from the time she left to know. There was a flash of light. Alatariel was sitting in her old house, in front of her mom. She was short for an elf, with long flowing brown hair, and stunning green eyes. Alatariel's hair was being brushed by her mom. She was only the age of 15. They were talking merrily. Alatariel saw another flash of light. She was now in the woods, by herself, only 16. She wondered astray from the house, leaving it behind unintentionally. She walked in the opposite direction of the house. Soon she had wondered into a completely different place. Lost....

There was a sudden flash, and Alatariel was back into reality. She looked down at the locket and put it around her neck. She looked around her. The elf that was sitting next to her had opened an envelope and started to read the beautiful gold letters. Alatariel continued contemplating her past. She remembered never seeing her father, not knowing who or what he was. She longed to see her family again, but did not know where to look. All her life she had been endlessly searching for something she did not even know was real. But we put our past behind us, she thought and began to sip her drink. Somehow she could not get her mind off of her past.

[Envinyatar]

She has a pretty enough smile, he thought, looking closely at her face. But there is no warmth in it. And her eyes are cold, and wary. Curious how her eyes slide toward Silvanis. Some old business, perhaps. And none too pleasant to her.

He took a step beyond her, blanket in hand, moving toward the stall. Derufin shook the loose straw from the old blanket. Folding it in thirds, he hung it over the edge of the partition, smoothing some non-existent wrinkle from the wool.

Not a word passed between the two others, who stood looking at one another a few feet from him. He would have laughed at the incongruity of the silent tableau amid the ongoing noises of the beasts in the stable, high and low, save for the fact that the woman seemed perched on the edge of some hidden precipice, and the man had a keen, wolvish look which flickered through his eyes – a hunter, his quarry brought to bay.

Derufin stepped back to her side. ‘I had not thought you would take the blanket. And what of it if you should? The stable is warm, there are not many horses boarded here at present. We can spare a blanket for a guest . . . or for a worker.’ He raised his brows in query.

‘My stable boy has gone off to Waymeet. Hand-fasted to his sweeting just this past week. Won’t be back either, if I have the right of it. Her parents like to keep their children close.’ His gaze traveled over her thin, wiry frame. ‘You look strong enough, and I could use the help. I have carpentry work to get done, and I fear that both the animals and the roof and walls are getting short shrift from me. What say you?’

[Tinuviel of Denton]

Mardath grinned at the uptight elf. "Calm down, Soronume. I meant ye no harm. So, ye're Soronume, she's Elwen, who're the rest of ye?"

Niniel shyly slid a little farther away from this loud stranger. He seemed harmless enough, but he was far too...exuberant for her liking. She thought he could have asked first, rather than seating himself without a by-your-leave.

Mardath didn't seem to notice her reaction, though he had come to the table because of her. He absently lit up a pipe and turned to Dorelnar, "And ye would be?"

"Dorelnar."

"Dorelnar. Rolls easy off the tongue. Na like Mardath. Tha's a name I'd na wish on me worst enemy. Sounds a bit devilish, think ye, Soronume?" He grinned, and wondered if the fellow even knew how to smile.

Niniel blushed a bit, and half hoped that the stranger would go away. Unconsciously, she was leaning toward Soronume, like a flower follows the sun. Mardath's coarseness of manner only emphasized the innate grace and charm possessed by Soronume. Besides, Mardath was too big, too loud, and too...uncouth for her liking. He was too much like the rowdy bandits among whom she'd hidden for a few years.

Finally, he noticed her reaction, and to whom she was looking. He chuckled silently. So, it was that way, was't? Well, mayhap she could lighten him up a bit. Teach him to laugh. Though, she didn't look like much of a one for laughter herself. More like one for tears.

[Katt b]

Waen was surprised to hear how many relatives the hobbit had, but was gladdened to hear of them.The woman coughed twice,and asked about Waens coming to the Shire.Waen winced but she knew if she asked about Estella's land, she would want to know about hers.

Waen sighed, "I left my home in lothlorien about..oh..4 years now, I just wanted to see the land and be free..."As she said free her brow knotted.She figured this woman was from a race that was inheritantly small, so it would be ok to continue.

She closed her eyes and began again. "My mother was ashamed of my size,and forbade me to learn to fight. I was only to learn of supperficial things like songs and poems and how to be a lady.....I chose another path..So I decided to leave,I have been wandering ever since.Then I found Kitathas wounded,she has become my friend and close companion since then."

Just then just as if she heard her name Kitathas flew down from the sky with a cry and landed smoothly on Waen's shoulder.Waen slowly stood to her feet. "Excuse my abruptness, but I must sleep.I hope to see you again soon...I think I might stay here for a little while...and Maybe fall into n adventure." Waen smiled a huge grin,her eyes shone in the moonlight.She took the hobbits hand breifly and hurried back into the Inn.

[Alatariel Telemnar]

Alatariel could not keep her mind off her past, she had to talk to someone, do something, but there was no one hear she found that she could talk with. They all seemed caught up in their own lives. She finally gave up hope. She walked outside into the rain. She began to sing a melody, an indistinctive melody. It had no tone, not sad, not angry, not joyful, just a melody. How can that be? A melody without tone? She waited as she sang, looking long fully into the rain.

Then, her horse, Aranel, appeared out from the rain. Her white coat soaked from the rain. "There you are. I was beginning to get worried," she said leading the horse into the stables to dry her fur. She left her into an open stable and ran back into the inn to get a towel.

She arrived back with a dry towel, and began to dry her. She went from her dripping mane, to her tail. Alatariel did not want her to get sick, for she cared for her and she was also her only way away from the Inn if something were to happen. After Aranel was completely dry she went to the other end of the stable, and sat down on a stool. She thought about her past again. She remembered back to that day she got lost. She had kept the secret hidden inside of her for so long, never admitting to the truth, but finally she did. She meant to get lost that day, just a young elf wanting to see the world, wanting to be free. Alatariel buried her face into her hands, finally admitting to it made her fall into kind of a shock. She left, left her home without saying goodbye, without know when she would ever see her family again, and now she missed her mother. The only friend she has in life now is Aranel. Living her whole life lost.

Alatariel lifted her head out of her hands. She listened to the pitter-pattering of the raindrops.

[piosenniel]

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+* NOTICE OF NEW RPG OPENING *+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*

Durelin invites you to play in the new game: Dark Seduction.

~*~ Please see Dark Seduction Discussion Thread for a description and instructions. ~*~

A character description and a First Post must be submitted together for this game. NO EXCEPTIONS.

The Discussion Thread will open Friday, 05/23.

Until then, read the storyline and Durelin’s First Post.

Create a believable character AND a First Post to submit with it.

~~ Piosenniel, Shire Moderator

[Elora]

Vanwe did her best to remain still beneath the appraising gaze of Derufin but his offer of work not able to be resisted. Her brows arched before she could still them and lips parted in surprise. Carpentry and horses he spoke of. Horses shifted in their stalls, creatures that still held some awe for Vanwe who had such little experience with them. Yet she had always been at ease with the livestock of her village, even the ill tempered geese that terrorised the rest of the residents had responded well to her hand.

But it was the carpentry, the wood, that most appealed to her. Wood was a rare commodity in Harad and it had not been often that she had managed to come by it. Yet she loved the feel of it in her hands, and the forests of Ithilien when she had come there had stolen her breath away. She loved the scent of it, the feel of it, the way it seemed to respond to her hand.

"You would retain me?" Her voice was incredulous. First the blanket and bread, and now the offer of legitimate employment. It wasn't like the last employment offer, where her light feet had been used to transport stolen goods from warehouses to docks in Umbar. There was nothing nefarious this time. Her smile transformed into something else entirely, a rare thing seen on her face in recent times.

Derufin blinked at the change, unsure as to whether it was the same elven maiden he was looking at. Vanwe nodded before he could change his mind. "Yes, sir! I'll do anything." Her statement was for the most part true. Vanwe had done whatever she had needed to in order to make her way. The offer of legitimate employment was a blessing unlooked for and she was young enough to not question such rare good fortune.

Silvanis shifted his weight, snagging her attention and renewing her recently overlooked anxiety. One word could bring this crashing into a pile of rubble. Derufin had not so much as asked who she was, where she came from, why one so young was abroad alone. With all that uncertainty, the announcement of her parentage could make the arrangement untenable for him.

"I will work very hard. I will not disappoint you." Vanwe tucked pale golden hair back behind her ears and gave up the faintly pleading glance she had directed at Silvanis. "I could start now, if you wish sir."

She tugged her skirt a little straighter whilst she was at it, steadfastly ignoring another piece of straw that detatched from the fabric and floated to the the ground in the process.

[piosenniel]

Please note: There are new rules for Game Discussion Threads going up as we open the new Games in the Shire. Please read them carefully - All Gamers will be held responsible for following them.

A Discussion Thread Reminder

Fellow Shire Gamers:

Our gaming comes with a cost; it is time to reflect on this fact and make some changes to how we run our games.

We RPGers are the most voracious consumers of Barrow Downs resources. We use a game thread, a discussion thread, PMs to plan games, and are constant visitors to the site, often returning more than two or three times a day to keep up with developments in the game in order to prepare our own posts.

Our gaming comes with a cost; it is time to reflect on this fact and make some changes to how we run our games.

We RPG’ers use the most Barrow Downs resources. We use a game thread, a discussion thread, PMs to plan games, and are constant visitors to the site, often returning more than two or three times a day to keep up with developments in the game in order to prepare our own posts.

Why is this a drain on BD resources? Please take some time to read carefully and reflect seriously upon the Barrow Wight's recent posts in the "Announcements >> The Barrow Downs" forum concerning storage space and bandwidth, chat and discussion, and the costs of running the site, and then change your posting habits.

What this means is that our Games, because we need to be so active in them, and because the Shire has so many going at once, cost the site much more money that other topics and forums on the Barrow Downs. In order for us to continue to have a good number of quality games for Shirelings to play in we need to make some changes:

What you, as participants in this game can do, personally:

What are the most beneficial changes in our posting habits? For one, we need to stop using the discussion threads for off-game-topic chatting, for personal comment. We need to restrict our posts to discussion of the games only, that is, to issues of plotting, character interaction, clarification, and notification of absences.

For most occasions, we don't need to make multiple posts about why we are absent or how we are doing and we don't need to make a string of 'see ya' posts in reply.

For personal comments, we can use the chat room or PM’s. (It’s ok to say a short ‘Nice post!’ or ‘Great post!’ if it is included with a post that has some other on-topic game information/requests on it.)

Please take the time to do several things:

Keep on topic for the Game.

Delete posts or run of the mill comments in the discussion thread that have no bearing on the game.

Refrain from such posts and comments in future discussions of the games.

Limit your daily visits to the thread.

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

READ THIS SECTION CAREFULLY. ALL GAMERS WILL BE HELD RESPONSIBLE FOR UNDERSTANDING THESE CHANGES.

What we, as Shire Moderators, will be doing to insure these changes are being made:

We will be following the discussion threads more closely now. When we see an off topic post – we will give the poster a warning by PM and place a post on the Discussion Thread with the poster’s name on it and a request to remove that post.

Once the warning is given, all future off-topic posts by that poster will be deleted, and that poster runs the risk of being asked to leave the game by the Moderator if such behavior continues.

The Moderator also has the option to close the Game and Discussion thread if gamers cannot stay on topic in the Discussion Thread. It will then be up to the Owner and the players to sort out problems, by PM or email, and make an agreement to keep on topic. Owners may then contact the Moderator to reopen the Game.

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If we all help out, we can ensure that our games remain treasures in the Barrow Downs.

Thanks for being responsible gamers and conscientious members of the Downs!

[Ealasaid]

Was he a friend or a foe? Benia asked herself, still watching the door where the mysterious man had been standing. Probably neither, she reassured herself. Probably just someone whose eye had been caught by her facial jewelry, nothing more and nothing less. After all, she did look quite different from folks in these parts. She shouldn't be bothered by the occasional casual stare.

She pulled her gaze away from the busy door and looked to see where Gilly had gotten off to. Just as she did, Gilly reappeared toting a variety of crockery, cutlery, and food, not to mention a hot cup of tea. Benia got up to assist her.

"Oh! That cup is hot!" exclaimed Gilly. She carried on for a moment with some similar -- obviously nervous -- prattle about the food before finally settling down in her chair. She cupped her hot mug between her hands, looking at Benia with an expression that told her as plain as words that she was fairly bursting with questions, but just wasn't sure where to start. Or whether or not etiquette would allow her to bombard a guest and a foreigner, no less, with so much conversation before they had even had dinner.

Benia gave her a warm smile. "Remember," she said merrily. "I may have been born in the desert, but my father was a Bree-man. Under the surface, I am as fond of friends and a good tale as the average hobbit! So, tell me, Miss Gilly, how has the world been to you since we last met?"

[Alatariel Telemnar]

Alatariel was listening to the raindrops hitting the roof of the Inn's stables. She was sitting on top of a stool, her shawl shielding her from the cold wind that blew into the stables. Aranel neighed to get Alatariel's attention. She was cold. Alatariel got up off the stool and walked towards Aranel. "Hey girl, you look cold. I'll go get a blanket," she said stoking her damp mane, "Be right back."

Alatariel walked out of the stables into the rain, making her way towards the Inn. When she got inside, she saw several people around the fire to gain some warmth from it, and to dry off. They had come in from the rain to rest along their journeys, and who knew what type of journey they could be up to. She walked to the back of Inn, to get a blanket out of the closet, which was in a very dark corner of the Inn.

Back at the stables she put the blanket over Aranel. She neighed in thankfulness. Alatariel walked over to the corner of the stall, and then lied down on a pile of dry hay. She covered herself with her shawl and tried to fall asleep.


Her attempt failed. She could not get her mind off her past even long enough to go to sleep. It was hopeless. So she just lied there. Off somewhere in the stable she heard someone talking, but it was indistinctive chatter. She listened to the voices, one of which sounded a little frightened. She slowly drifted off into her sleep listening to the voices.

[alaklondewen]

Estella watched as her companion left and went back into the inn. The evening air was cool, and a slight breeze ruffled her hair as she sat on the step. Reflecting on her evening, she smiled and was glad in her heart that she came.

Standing up she straightened her skirt and turned to face the Green Dragon. She thought about reentering and maybe finding another interesting soul, but then Estella turned her face toward her home. A comforting feeling came over her, and she knew she was ready to leave.

Glancing once more over her shoulder toward the inn, the middle aged hobbit walked down the steps and onto the road that lead to her cozy hole. She felt like a changed woman, and there was a slight hop in her step. Soon she had disappeared into the darkness and from the memory of the merry spirits that filled the Green Dragon.

[ May 24, 2003: Message edited by: alaklondewen ]

[Envinyatar]

Derufin laughed out loud, a low rumble that started deep within and burst out in pure delight. ‘I’m sorry to frighten you, m’lady,’ he said, seeing her step back from him. He took a deep breath and rubbed his hand across his still grinning mouth. ‘Your eagerness caught me by surprise!’

‘Come. I’ve had naught for breakfast yet. And you’ve not eaten all the loaf I left you.’ He turned slightly and motioned with a sweep of his hand toward the stable door. ‘Cook will have made eggs and a stack of thick, crisp toast. There’ll be sweet cream butter and gooseberry jam, thick with fat, sweet berries. And cups of hot, sweet tea to wash it all down.’ She stood there an indecisive look on her face.

He cocked one eyebrow at her. ‘At least come have a cup of tea while I eat. It’s the kitchen where we’re starting today, the pantry to be exact. Needs new shelving put in – the boards are old and bowed from the long years of foods stacked on them. Cook has been at me for weeks to get it done.’ Derufin smiled warmly at the still hesitant Elf, beckoning her toward the door with a nod of his head.

He started toward the door. ‘It shouldn’t take long,’ he called over his shoulder, ‘if we work together. And after that, there are the cedar shingles to replace on the roof. That should fill the rest of the afternoon.’

His voice grew fainter as he walked away from her. He turned back once to look at her. The sun, behind him, lit his dark tousled hair with its brightness, framing the now shadowed features of his face with light . . .

[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman opened the door of the Green Dragon, nudging the doorstop under it with a foot. She had not locked it last night- people had been coming in all night, seeking shelter from the rain, which had started late last night and carried on until the early morning, and many of them had decided to stay the night. Aman rubbed her tired eyes with a hand and stepped outside, hugging herself against the breeze, and was glad to see that the tempestuous weather of the night had left with the moon, leaving a bright, if breezy day. But some of the angry, dark clouds looked to be only biding their time- Aman hoped it wouldnt rain again before nightfall.

She yawned and, hearing the sound of feet coming from the stables, she turned and smiled at the familiar face of Derufin coming from the stables.

"Good morning, Derufin. Sleep well?"

The man smiled slightly ruefully at her. "Better than you, I'll wager, Aman. Long night."

The Innkeeper waved this away with one hand, then focused on the figure coming from the stables. An elf, squinting against the sun, was following Derufin, nervously straightening her skirts, and took half a moment to recognise her.

"Vanwe? I thought you already left?" She inquired. Derufin smiled enigmatically, and Aman raised an eyebrow at him. "But I'm guessing a certain stablemaster could tell me different?"

Derufin's smile broadened. "Aye, Aman, I offered Vanwe work- you know, what with that stable boy being off and all, and well, I could do with a bit of help." He winked at her. "You don't mind?"

"Would I turn down the offer of having another pair of hands in this Inn? My my, two elves in as many days, both offering to help at an Inn in Bree, of all places." She laughed, then cocked her head towards the Inn door. "You will come in for some breakfast?"

[Hilde Bracegirdle]

Benia’s smile had had as much a calming effect on Gilly as her words. Yes, Benia’s father, Jack Nightshade was a native of Bree. And true as it was, the hobbit couldn’t imagine Mr. Jack claiming any town as home. He had lived in so many regions. But he did love tales and had a large store of them himself. Gilly had remembered sitting with Benia by the fireside listening to him tell of his time among the Rohirrim and how his patrol had captured Benia’s mother, Benia the Fair, and her brothers, a remnant of a powerful clan from the southern deserts. It was an event that shaped the rest of his life.

But Benia and her family had been living in Bree before arriving in the Shire searching for a safe haven. Gilly had brought them home to her family’s farm hoping that her parents would allow them to stay until the danger of their discovery by their southern pursuers past. It had caused quite on uproar at home but they had been allowed to stay, Gilly’s parents rising to the cause after much deliberation.

How could Gilly’s recent life compare to that? Her stories these days revolved around her children. Such as how her two sons picked all the vegetables in Primula Tunnely’s garden and she had to stay up all night helping her to can them. Or when little Sandy played postman with her love letters delivering Carl’s masterpieces up and down the street.

Gilly had returned Benia’s smile. “Oh, you might be as fond of a good tale as an average hobbit, but I’m just a good hobbit with and average tale! But still I have married and have been raising a few children among my cabbages and potatoes. I’ve three boys to keep me on my toes, and Carl, my husband. He’s a shopkeeper here in town. I’ve been a Banks for 19 years now and haven’t seen a real adventure since your family left. Well, we did have a few unwelcome visitors come calling for the Nightshades soon after your father had decided it was time to head out. They didn’t trouble us though, and we sent them on down the road.”

“ But it’s late enough without me making you doze off with my life story! How are you doing? I have heard the sad news about your mother and can’t help but wonder how your life has changed. And how is your father taking it? It was obvious they were deep feelings between them. Come let us find a quieter place to catch up on these matters.”

Having said this the old friends had adjourned to Benia’s rooms, to spend the early morning hours in private conversation.

[arelendil]

Elwen was not sure how she felt about this newcomer. He seemed nice enough but something put her on edge. Perhaps it was the reaction of the others at the table. Elwen had always been sensitive to the feelings of others close to her. Well he had done nothing wrong yet so she would be nice.

"It is nice to meet you." Spoke Elwen out loud. Then turning to Soronume she said quietly, "Amin dele ten' ho."

Soronume nodded glancing at Dorelnar. Dorelnar shrugged his shoulders, "Manqué?"
he looked at Elwen, "He has done you no wrong, yet." he answered in a whisper.

Elwen looked at Niniel and laughed inside, she wondered if Niniel would ever act on her affection for Soronume. She have to be more forceful if she wanted a reaction. Elwen knew that Niniel feelings for Soronume had not gone unnoticed by him, he could not have missed them.

Elwen moved her eyes back to Dorelnar, taking his hand back in hers. Her laughed rang out like tiny bells, as she once more played absent-mindedly with her hair. "So, we three have heard our stories, but we have not heard yours, perhaps you would like to tell us why you came to this inn?"

[Dorelnar]

Dorelnar liked this character as little as the rest of the table it seemed. But why, he could not work out.

"Yes," Dorelnar added to Elwen's question, " i think it would be nic to hear what brings you to our little table by the fire, Mardath."

He looked at Elwen, her hand felt cold in his but then again that was normal, he remembered, Starmaidens, surprisingly are not warm people, even though they were once real stars burning brightly. How odd, Dorelnar thought to himself, looking directly at Mardath, waiting for an answer.

[ElenCala Isil]

Eruanna looked up from her position, right at the hobbit-lass. She perceived the situation, but her thoughts bewildered her. “Who are you?” Eruanna asked, but before she could ever get an answer, the hobbit was gone. She knew inside that this would be the last time she saw the hobbit, at least for a while.

Left in suspense, she lifted her hood over her face, and tucked away the letter. Suddenly, it seemed as if all noise had stopped. The laughter, and the music, and people chatting along about recent happenings and what-not had subsided. Quickly she stood up, and walked towards the door, intending to end her stay in The Shire right then. Yet, every step became harder, she was straining. She had got to the door, and could go no farther; she leaned against a wall, and slowly slid down to the floor.

Eruanna sat, unable to move, she felt as if she was becoming hard of hearing and her vision clouding over. When all felt like it was about to shut down, the letter slipped down, and glided gently to her feet. She picked up the letter, staring at it once more, fingering each ornate letter. Slowly she read each word, and she saw it. A fold in the letter! What could it be? She opened the fold, which she could not see before, and read aloud. “Wherever you may be, stay. For I shall come for you…”

Stay, stay, stay; the word was replaying over and over again in her mind. Surely this is the reason for her strain. At once, she felt a burden lifted from her heart. He will come she knew it, she felt it! Suddenly, she could see, sharp as ever as if she had new elven eyes. And she could hear, she heard the laughter, the music so quaint and lovely, and she heard all about her people talking amongst themselves. No longer did she miss her home, for she perceived, this is why her path led to the Green Dragon Inn.

She lowered her hood, and sat down once more; awaiting the hour that she would find her love again. Merrily she pranced over to the bar, and ordered a fine wine. She sat down, sipping her drink, and enjoying the commotion of the inn.

And for the first time since her journey, she laughed.

[Envinyatar]

Derufin stepped up closer to Aman and, leaning in, took a deep breath. Somewhat ruffled, the Innkeeper moved back a pace, a perplexed look on her face. ‘Just checking,’ he said, an impish glint in his eyes as he drew back and grinned at her.

Aman raised her brows at him, and lifted her chin in a defiant manner. Her eyes narrowed at his grinning visage. ‘What?!’

He chuckled, raising with his right hand in a gestured of feigned drinking from a tankard. ‘Thought you might have been hitting the ale early, m’lady. You called this place an inn in Bree. Too fond of the Prancing Pony, I think!’ He winked, and moved past her, stepping into the kitchen.

‘Cook!’ he cried, his voice ringing loud in the high beamed room. ‘You’ve a hungry carpenter here. No, make that two hungry carpenters. Best feed us well, else we drop from hunger in the midst of doing your pantry!’

[Alatariel Telemnar]

Alatariel was awoken by sound of tiny footsteps, barely even a noise. She peeped out form under her shawl. She looked to see the young hobbit lad from earlier. He was stroking Aranel's soft mane. He had a carrot at hand, wanting to feed the mare. "Please. Eat this. I won't hurt ye," he said.

"Tis you!" Alatariel stood up quickly, throwing her shawl back. The young hobbit got startled. He dashed out of the stable, dropping the carrot onto the ground. "Wait! I meant you no harm!" she yelled after him, but it was no use. "I've got to find him! There is something strange about that little hobbit, but I'm not sure what."

Alatariel ran into the same direction as the hobbit, the mud splashed up around her. She saw a door close on the Inn's storehouse. Creeping up quietly towards it, she creaked it open a crack revealing a long blonde haired hobbit lass getting out some ingredients to make supper. Alatariel closed the door, and walked towards the Inn. That hobbit has to be around here somewhere, Alatariel thought. She walked back to the Inn, in search of the hobbit lad.


At the door, there was a young elf-maiden sitting against the wall. There were several hobbits at the tables. Alatariel wandered among them, searching for that one young hobbit lad. No where around the tables. She searched through the hobbits sitting at the bar. Still no trace of the hobbit. She went to the back, where the rooms were. Knocking on all the doors, she searched for him. The ones that there were no answer to, she opened a crack, to reveal either emptiness or someone in a deep sleep. Alatariel just could not find him. She walked out of the back of the Inn, and sat down onto an empty table in the dark corner, waiting for him to pass.

[ElenCala Isil]

Eruanna laughed as if she were a child again. And for no particular reason either. It didn't matter who was watching, for she was at ease once more. She drank up her wine, and looked about for nothing in particular. She noticed an elf-maiden walking about, as if searching for something. She seemed so familiar.

Eruanna recalled in her memory a figure walk past while she was planning to make her permanent exit of the inn, that elf-maiden must have been the same figure

Thinking no longer on the subject, Eruanna went out back to the stables to check on her mare. She saw her, a dark shadow. "Oh, Istel," she said, "You are noble to take me here" She slowly stroked her silky mane. Eruanna uttered out words to Istel, as she often did while thinking about events.

[Alatariel Telemnar]

Alatariel sat and waited patiently for the hobbit. She thought about how strange he had been. There was something about him... but Alatariel did not know. She saw his past, what a horrible past, but so very similar to her's. She could not understand.

She got up form the table and ordered herself a drink. Then walking back to the table she spotted him. He was trying to sneak out of the Inn, quietly creeping along the wall. She left the wine at the bar, and watched him. He slipped out the door, and Alatariel quickly followed.

[Ealasaid]

Having retired to Benia's rooms and settled in before the fire, Benia folded her hands in her lap and thought for a moment before answering Gilly's question.
"My father is dead as well," she said softly. "It has everything to do with my mother. She was slain but weeks after we left the Shire. As you know, when we departed your hospitality, we took the road north in the hope of throwing our pursuers off the track. Then we planned to double back to the south and cross the Brandywine at the Sarn Ford. From there, our intent was to make for Rohan, where my father still had many enemies, but he had just as many friends who were willing to assist us. We were overtaken barely a day short of reaching the ford."

Her amber eyes darkened. "My mother was killed there. My father fought hard but he was only one against many. They left him for dead. The only reason I was spared was that, being very young at the time, I had wandered off in a sulk. I was tired and my feet hurt. Foolishly, I wanted to slow down and stop running."

She leaned forward, holding one of her tattooed hands toward Gilly. A wide silver band adorned the middle finger. "Do you remember this ring? It's all I have left of my mother." Wide-eyed, Gilly nodded. Benia's mother, Benia the Fair, had worn it on the same finger.

"My father was grievously wounded," Benia continued. "When he was well enough to travel, we returned to his family in Bree. They hid us until he had recovered the majority of his strength, but the danger was too great for us to stay any longer. We were constantly in flight after that, but he never recovered from the loss of my mother. Eventually, he took to drink."

"He was killed two years ago in a drunken brawl," she ended abruptly.

Gilly made a sympathetic noise in her throat and reached out to pat Benia's hand. "That's sad news indeed" she said. "I was fond of your father."

"Thank you." Benia smiled. "But, really, we should try to get a little sleep. Maybe the rain will let up by morning." She stood and, with much protestation from her guest, finally managed to deposit Gilly into bed in the bedroom. Benia, herself, spent the remainder of the night in the chair before the fire, watching the embers die into darkness and remembering darker days. Finally, she slept.

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

[Tinuviel of Denton]

Niniel looked at Mardath. Something about him tugged at her memory. Not the bandits, something else. Something she didn't really want to remember. Something about her...father.

The big man smiled at Dorelnar. That smile, where had she seen it before? Only then, he had been angry and trying to hide it. Now it was only good humor, with not an intentional hint of malice. Not an intentional hint of malice, that was the key. But a bear would probably look menacing no matter how friendly.

Soronume didn't seem to like Mardath very much. But then, calling him "elf" without even a "mister" preceding it was very rude. The thing was, Mardath seemed harmless enough, but he was just so loud and boisterous. He seemed to have never been in civilized surroundings before.

"Well, Dorelnar, 'tisn't much of a tale. I grew tired o' the forests and me hunting, s'I decided to take a bit of a jaunt, see more of th' world. Ended up here."

The forests...hunting...it seemed so familiar, just within her grasp, but the memories still eluded Niniel. Then Mardath looked right at her.

"Excuse me, miss, but ye havna introduced yeself yet. Might I be asking ye name?"

Niniel looked rather frantically for help. No, no, no. She didn't want to be the recipient of any attention from this stranger, friendly or otherwise.

Soronume came to her rescue. "The lady is called Niniel." He frowned at Niniel's obvious discomfort, and pointedly leaned toward her in a gesture of protection.

[Elora]

Vanwe trailed along behind Derufin, with a backward glance to Silvanis.

"Please, later... the notes," she whispered as she passed and hurried off after the Stablemaster before he thought she had reconsidered. She smiled shyly up at Aman as they arrived.

"I did leave, in a fashion," she offered to the innkeeper but was soon ushered indoors and towards the kitchen before she could explain further. The warmth of the busy kitchen enveloped her, the scent of hearty food redolent on the air as they entered. Vanwe sighed appreciatively. Derufin had mentioned something about the shelves in the kitchen, and so she turned her attention to the pantry amidst the traffic of the room.

He seated himself at the end of a long table, out of the way of the cook and Vanwe darted from the doorway when she realised she was blocking traffic. In the better light she could make out still more of his face. He was not like the men of her village, and that cheered her considerably. His laughter was infectious and soon even she was smiling as she examined the room in unveiled curiousity. He had mentioned another Elf, and Vanwe could not help but watch for her. What she would say should the other Elf speak to her, she had no earthly idea. The only Elf she had ever spoken to before was herself.

Soon enough, a hearty breakfast started to accrue before them and Vanwe gave off her inspection of the kitchen and stared in amazement at the wealth of food.

"Are there other people," she asked Derufin who was reaching for a plate of eggs. He smiled and shook his head.

"No, just us, and we have a lot to do today so no sense letting this go cold," he replied. Vanwe smiled and reached for another plate. No sense at all, she concurred. After scant meals on the road, if indeed any could be gotten, the breakfast was to her a feast. Eggs, she recognised. Bacon was new to her, as were the mushrooms. It was a morning of discoveries for her and her eyes held her smile.

As they ate, Vanwe's mind whirled with thoughts on the morning's events. At some point she needed to find a way to get her notes back without drawing attention to them. She also needed to prove to Derufin that his offer was not one he would regret. As she explored something that was called a tomato, she looked across to where he sat. Without her layer of dust, straw and thread from the blanket, he looked to be the carpenter he named himself. On the other hand, she was nothing other than an urchin even though she could hold a piece of lumber and sense the shapes it held within.

"Sir, have we wood for the pantry," she asked and then something else occured to her. He called her m'lady, and that was not right. It was far too nice. She set down her fork and sipped at her water. "And what shall I call you?"

Through the kitchen wafted the smell of freshly baked bread that had been set down on the other end of the long table to cool. She breathed it into her lungs deeply, eyes closing as she did so. She had many other things to say also, but now was not the time. She opened her eyes again and looked at Derufin in the bright morning light with clear eyes of startling blue colour, her only link to her father.

"Is Sir correct? I do not wish to offend you."

[Gorothlammothiel]

"The lady is called Niniel, Sir" Soronume replied on her behalf, noticing her obvious discomfort at Mardath, though he himself hadn't seemed to have picked up on it.

The more Mardath spoke to them sat at the table, Soronume realised that his earlier mistake had probably been unintentional. Even so, there was something about Mardath that made Niniel uncomfortable, which was enough for that little doubt in his mind to remain. She shifted in her seat, akwardly. "My'lady?" he questionned, "are you alright?" Niniel forced a smile back to him but no words escaped her mouth.

Mardath interupted, "so that's the way it is with the two o'you is it?" He chuckled at his own comment. Even Elwen seemed to find this mildly amusing and tried to hide her smile behind her glass. Soronume shot a glance back at Mardath and Niniel blushed and turned away...

[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman pushed Derufin playfully. "Like I said, a long night! Honestly young man, if you continue with that rude nature, I will be forced to put you out of a job!" She wagged a finger at him mock-seriously. Derufin raised an eyebrow, grinning, and walked in, followed by Vanwe, who smiled bashfully at Aman as she scurried past.

Aman stood for a moment more on the step, letting the sun warm her face. As she surveyed the yard, she saw a figure standing near the stables. Silvanis, and rather shifty he looked as well. Aman wondered about it, and about the way Vanwe had seemed to uncomfortable about it, but for now she put it out of her mind as what Derufin had said came back to her. Something in it was nagging at her...

‘Thought you might have been hitting the ale early, m’lady. You called this place an inn in Bree. Too fond of the Prancing Pony, I think!’

She clicked her fingers together sharply. That was it! Barliman Butterbur had said he would come later on, with a few barrels of wine to discuss, for the naming ceremony. Now what time had he said he would come? Aman was sure she had written it down somewhere...with that, Aman turned back into the Green Dragon to begin another busy day.

[steve]

Aproaching slowly toward the Green Dragon Inn trots a old, thin horse, looking as if it had been suffering from malnutrition for some time. Upon the creature's back sat a cloaked figgure with his head down.

As the figgure approaches the inn he dismounts and walks the horse into the stables. "Take good care of him, and feed him... if thou would" he said with a low trembling voice that sends a shiver down the spine of the stable hand. The shrouded man turns and walks toward the entrance to the inn.

He takes the doornob and turns it slowly opening the door. Stepping inside he removed his hood, revealing his pale jaded face, which looks aged far beyond his years, and a head of long straight white hair. The stranger walks up to a stool at the end of the bar and sits down and opens his pack letting his, which seemed oddly out of place with him, very rotund cat out of his pack, and allows it to climb up onto his lap.

He raises his hand and calls over the barmaids. "Would it be possible for a traveler to get some food and drink?" "Yes Sir" she replies, and walks away.

The Barmaid returns with his food and drink and he begins to eat when he feels someone pulling on his cloak. He turns around to see a young hobbit, no older then 12. He looks to the hobbit "yes, what is it child?" The little hobbit looks up at him "What is your name sir? My name is Dudo."
The man replies "One who is traied by death himself needs no name, but if you must, call me Cygnus." "ok" the hobbit replies, "Can I pet your kitty?" Cygnus looks down at the hobbit lad "alright."

He sits back as the young hobbit plays with his cat.

[Katt b]

Waen was awakened from her elven sleep,when a female elf quietly opened her door,she peeked in the door perhaps looking for someone and closed it again quietly.

Kit was beside her looking alert and Awake."Good morning,sunshine!"Waen reached over and caressed Kit's feathers."Well what shall we do today? Would you like to go and get a drink of water? I know I would."

Waen quickly got ready. She tied her long golden hair back out of her face and strapped her small bow and quiver of arrows to her back. "Come on Kit lets go."Kit ruffled her feathers and flew on to Waens shoulder.Waen headed down the hall to the commonroom.

When she approached the bar she saw Aman tidying up,she leaned over "Excuse me M'Lady could I trouble you for a glass of cold water?"Aman nodded and smiled.Waen thanked her and sat for a moment at the bar.

At that moment Kitathas squacked loudly from her shoulder."What is it?"Waen whispered to her,then something caught her eye,a man and a small hobbit boy were beside her playing with a cat.

Waen looked over at the man,who had looked at her when Kit squacked.

"Hello Sir,please excuse Kit she does not particularily like cats."Waen looked over at the feline."If you do not mind me asking,what is the name of your lovely feline?" Waen leaned over waiting for the man to reply.Kitathas screech quietly in Waens ear and she too leaned over,but to drink from Waens glass that she held in her hand.

[steve]

Cygnus Looks up at Waen, "Trag'oul is her name, and your little friend need not worry, she does not eat the living." Cygnus takes Waen's hand and kisses it "my name is Cygnus, it is a pleasure to make your aquantence."

He lets go of her hand and turns to the food that had been just recently plaed infront of him. He picks up what he thinks to be bacon starts to nibble on it.

Tran'oul starts to purr lously at all the attention. She stands up and rubs against the hobbit's hand then jumps up onto the counter and engages in eating Cygnus' food.

[ May 25, 2003: Message edited by: steve ]

[Tinuviel of Denton]

"So that's the way it is with the two o'you is it?"

Perhaps Mardath was more observant than most gave him credit for. Niniel blushed and looked away. She hadn't planned to tell Soronume, for fear of embarassing herself and him as well. She had no idea if Soronume shared her feelings, and certainly had not intended for some stranger to comment like that.

"Whoops! Seems 'twasna quite th' time for tha' remark, eh? Begging your pardon, Niniel was't? I dinna mean t'embarrass ye."

"I--it's all--all right. I--I--excuse me!" Niniel blushed furiously and hurriedly left the table. She slipped out of the front door and leaned against the wall, berating herself for her hasty exit but seeing no way to correct it without further embarrassment.

Behind her, she could hear Mardath saying confusedly, "Was't somethin' I said?"

[ May 25, 2003: Message edited by: Tinuviel of Denton ]

[Alatariel Telemnar]

Alatariel burst out the door, running fast behind the hobbit. "Wait! I do not wish to harm you! I want to ask you something," she called after the hobbit. He ran around the side of the Inn and into the stables. Alatariel stopped, knowing that there was only one way out of the stables, besides jumping out a window. She walked inside. "You can't hide from me. I will find you!" she yelled into the stable.

She heard a noise over on the west end of the stables, but she was not easily fooled. Alatariel walked over to the west side of the stables, where Aranel was. Then, she crept over to the east side and crouched down in a dark corner against a stall. The young hobbit lad slowly crept out of a nearby stall. He scanned around looking for Alatariel, not noticing the small bundle against the stable. He quietly crept away. Alatariel jumped up and grabbed him by the shirt. "Got you!"

The hobbit yelped in shock. "Please, M'lady, I meant ye no harm. I-"

"What did you want with my mare?" Alatariel interrupted, not letting go of his shirt.

"Nothing, M'lady. I was jus' feedin' her. That's all. I like to stay at the Inn. The horses..." the hobbit was at a loss of words.

"Follow me," Alatariel said, not giving the hobbit much of a choice as she pulled him along with her. She took him into the Inn, and over to the darkest table in the darkest corner. She sat him down on a chair against a wall, leaving him with no escape path. "I saw your past. I know what kind of pain you went through," she said to him.

"M'lady, it is awkward talking to ye, for I do not even know your name," the hobbit lad said.

"The only name I can leave you with at this moment is, Marya," she answered, "What about you?"

"I'm afraid I can't leave ye any name."

"Very well then, I wanted to say that I have shared a similar past as you. When I helped you the other night, I saw your past, and I have had one so very much like it," Alatariel said.

"Well, them I'm sorry for what ye have gone through. I saw it too, and it was the same as mine. Now isn't that odd," the hobbit said.

"Yes, 'tis. Well, since we know each other’s past, why not talk about the present."

"Yes, so, Marya, what brings ye to the Inn?"

"I dun' really know. I guess my heart. What about you?" she answered sighing

"I stay here, I love the horses. I enjoy feedin' them. That's why ye startled me. I'm not used to the owner's coming up out of nowhere, as ye did," the hobbit said sighing.

"May I ask, if you saw my past, and you knew who I was, then why did you run away from me?" Alatariel asked.

"I dun' really know. I guess I thought talking to you would be like facing my past, and I wasn't sure if I could do that," the two continued in conversation, as the rain thundered down on the Inn's roof outside.

[ May 25, 2003: Message edited by: Alatariel Telemnar ]

[Tinuviel of Denton]

Mardath looked around the table very confusedly. He had no idea what he'd done to make Niniel leave so quickly, and was at a loss for words, especially when Soronume gave him a glare that could very possibly have thawed Caradhras. He smiled a little, deprecatingly unlike his usual grin, in an effort to placate the elf.

"Was't somethin' I said?" he asked, in an effort to alleviate the silence that had descended on the table following Niniel's exit. Soronume frowned at him again, and got up, heading in the same direction as Niniel had gone.

Mardath watched him go. People were so complicated. He much preferred the animals of his woods and the simplicity of the woods. He'd not really been around civilized people before and now wasn't entirely sure he wanted to stay there. The last time he'd been around people had been twenty-two years ago, when his friend's wife had died.

That was who Niniel'd reminded him of. Jaron had had the same dark hair and Lenna had had the same big blue eyes. Only their daughter hadn't been called Niniel, so 'twas surely some other family. What was her name? Miri, yes, that's what 'twas. She'd only been four at the time and couldn't understand why her mama wasn't coming back.

'Tis odd, thought Mardath. That there should be twa such maids in th' world.

[Envinyatar]

The mug of tea was halfway to his lips when the memory hit him.

Sometimes, as he sat in the kitchen in the morning, the familiar sounds and smells of it sent his senses reeling back to those times he had spent here with her. He recalled the sunlight from the doorway on a day much like this, and how it had caught in the curly tangles of her long, black hair. Her brow furrowed in concentration as she spread the jam thick with berries across the surface of Cook’s sweet, dark bread. Taking her time as if it were the only task in the world she need get done. Her smile, how it inched up her face to crinkle at the corners of her grey eyes as she brought the bread to her waiting lips. Delight filled her at this simple repast and he had laughed as she offered a bite to him, her slender fingers brushing a sticky crumb from the corner of his mouth when he accepted . . .

Derufin’s thoughts were miles away when he heard the voice at the edges of his day dream. He brought his mug back to rest on the table as the pleasant memories receded.

‘What shall I call you?’

The words wavered and ran like ink on paper left to the mercy of the rain. Then coalesced, as if by some magic, tugging at his attention. His grey eyes darkened as he shook the memories from behind them and saw, once again, this Elf who sat before him.

He smiled as he brought her into focus, and the present reality slid firmly into place.

‘What should you call me?’ he asked, rephrasing her question. ‘Derufin, m’lady.’

He struggled to recall what else she had asked him. ‘And yes, we have some good oak planking for the shelves. It needs only to be cut to length, then sanded smooth, and waxed when once it’s pegged in place.’ He took a deep breath, returning to the business at hand. ‘When we’re done here, I’ll fit you out with tools and set you to planing and smoothing the planks once I’ve cut them to their proper length and drilled the peg holes in them. We’ll wax them once we’ve secured them, then help Cook put back the containers and sacks and jars as she wishes.’

Derufin pushed away from the table and leaned back in his chair. His long legs were stretched out comfortably in front of him, one ankle perched on the other. His hands rested on the flat of his abdomen, fingers interlaced. He cocked his head at his breakfast companion, regarding her closely.

‘And you, m’lady, since we will be working so closely together. What shall I call you?’

[Nerindel]

Léspheria, Lóthaniel and Fawain Slowly walked down the stairs together, it had been a long night for Léspheria the hobbit buttercup had showed her everything from allocating rooms to washing dishes and the dishes! they had seemed never ending.

"you will be staying for breakfast" she asked sadly as they reached the bottom of the stairs. They were both packed and now and their finery was now replaced by rangers clothing of greens and brown, they had already been down before the sun rose and prepared their horses while the rest of the inn slept. Lóthaniel smiled sympathetically at his sister saying softly taking her hand in his,"I am sorry but we have already eaten and we must be on our way we have already tarried to long."

She pulled him in, embracing him tightly whispering in his ear "do be careful brother, and promise me you will return." a single tear escaped her eye as he pushed her gentle back, raising her head in his hands and wiping the tear away. "Look at me, you know I can not promise that, but I will promise you that I will try." That being enough to satisify her, she turned to Fawain pulling her friend into the same embrace she had just given her brother, "I shall miss you," she said pushed her friend back slightly. Tears streaming down Fawain's face, but Léspheria looked into her eyes, searching her heart to find something to comfort the young woman she called her friend. "Remember you are strong, in heart and strength. You will face this evil and you shall prevail I know this in my heart," and she found that she really did. Léspheria watched them leave, as she turned back to the inn tears streamed down her soft pale cheeks, she now knew in her heart that they would return, but it did not comfort her grief at their departure.

She entered the inn and went straight to the kitchen thinking that no-one would yet be there, she had not even noticed Aman as she made her way to the kitchen. Apon entering the kitchen she was suprised to see people sitting at the long table having breakfast. She quickly wiped her tears away on the sleeve of her dress, as she did she saw more clearly who sat at the table, the Stablehand she had met the night before was sitting relaxed with his feet on the table chatting to a young Elf woman, she could also hear cook in the pantry. She took a deep breath to compose herself and took a seat quietly at the table not wishing to disturb their conversation. She then spied a pot of wild strawberry jam and warm bread, Fawain had introduced her to this comfort food long ago. A happly smile played across her face as she reached for the bread and jam, spreading it merrily and savoured the taste as the warm jam ran down her throat.

[Amanaduial the archer]

OCC: Bekah, it doesnt work like that, or didnt last time I tried it with a different thread- once you've asked for notifications you can't stop them, I think.

[Alatariel Telemnar]

Alatariel enjoyed talking to the young hobbit lad. It was a change from only Aranel. 'Twas such a horrible past... well, anyways, 'tis so lonely here at the Inn, everyone is off in their own groups, you just can't cut in,' Alatariel said to him.

'Yes, I know the feelin'. So very lonely. 'Tis amazing how I can stand it, for ye are the first person to talk to me in a very long time. There are other's like us who are by themselves, but they are caught up in their own lives, much to worried to talk to common folk like myself. How 'bout a drink? On me,' the hobbit walked away from the table, Alatariel watched him closely. He walked up to the bar and ordered to mugs full of ale, a drink Alatariel was not to fond of, for she did not like it that much. He walked back through the crowd, trying not to spill the ale. 'Here ye go, m'lady,' he handed her a mug. She thanked him, and they sat there in silence, rain pouring down from the sky and thundering upon the Inn's roof, deep in thought.

Alatariel took a sip of her ale. She was thinking of her past. It wasn't so bad once I think about it. Nothing horrible really happened. All I did was leave, and never saw my mother again, and it's not like I knew who my father was, Alatariel thought, the hobbit's past wasn't so bad either, there were those embarrassing times, but who really cares what people think? Still... She took another sip of her ale. An image appeared in her head, it was of an elvish man, brown hair, dark brown eyes, and he was outside, riding away from his home. It was then that Alatariel saw him; he was walking into the Inn. She felt some weird connection with him, but she did not know what. He walked across the Inn's floor and over to the bar. He put back his shawl, and ordered a drink. Alatariel watched him as he sipped his wine. Not knowing what it was with him she left the table, "Excuse me, but I must leave now, namárië."

"Goodbye for the present, m'lady," the hobbit said. After she had been gone for quite awhile the hobbit, got up and left to the stables to feed the horses.


Alatariel walked over to the man. She sat next to him at the bar, and ordered herself a drink. The man looked over, but paid no attention. She noticed he was short for an elf, much like Alatariel herself. He was at least twice as old as Alatariel. He drank down the whole wine in one gulp. Alatariel sat there, and waited.

[ May 26, 2003: Message edited by: Alatariel Telemnar ]

[Elora]

Sometimes, Vanwe thought, it was like clouds passed over his face and he was far away from where he was. It was a bold assessment to make and one she kept silently within her as she watched Derufin re-settle into the kitchen where he sat. And there was a sadness too, that she could easily sense for it was something that was not unfamiliar to her. Her blue eyes were keen as she studied him and immersed as she was with trying to understand this most unusual man she did not immediately notice Léspheria when she entered the kitchen and sat at the table.

So much of what she knew and expected of others was not, it seemed, applicable to Derufin. She mouthed his name, letting the sound of it settle in.

"Derufin..." It was a soft murmur. Not even his name was like the names she was accustomed to. He had asked for her name, and the memory of the last time a Man had asked her name heated her cheeks. She still remembered how he had chuckled as she related it to him shortly after being unwillingly apprehended as a smuggler. "Vanwe! Gift," he had snorted as he reviewed her toussled appearance as she had warily crouched. "Aye, make no mistake! The King would consider another scoundrel curtailed a gift indeed to his coffers!" And with that he had hauled her off to a dark place with bars and a stench of desperation that had eaten at her very soul. Her name was bitter, but it was the only thing her mother had given her aside from life. She could still hear the guard's sarcastic inflection that carried the strong accents of Gondor now, echoing through her memory.

She offered her name now quietly to Derufin, not exactly sure what to expect this time.

"Not m'lady... that would not be right. I am named Vanwe," she said as she glanced at his face for some hint of his reaction. She set her knife down and tucked an errant strand of golden hair back behind her ear.

"I will not need many tools, Derufin, and I can start whenever you wish, now even," she finished, his name feeling new yet good as she pronounced it. With a bright flash of exuberance, she smiled into Derufin's grey eyes as she spoke.

Léspheria's presence did not go unnoted very long by Vanwe. She shifted in her seat to regard the woman, a little unsettled by her failure to note her appearance but unsurprised as for Vanwe the world was on a shapr kilter around her and filled with newness.

Her surprise was replaced with a shy smile. Was this the other Elf that Aman had spoken of, she wondered? Utterly at a loss as to what to do upon encountering another Elf, Vanwe remained where she was reaching only with a smile towards Léspheria. Where did she come from? Did she know her mother, or Finarfin's kindred? Notes scratched hastily upon a piece of paper held now by Silvanis cropped into her already crowded mind.

"There is honey too," Vanwe said as she passed the pot down to Léspheria. "It's very good," she added by way of encouragement. Honey was something else Vanwe had discovered only that morning. She had eaten enough in one meal that would normally have kept her going over the course of several days. A full stomach was yet another novelty. Discovery after discovery, and the promise of Oak to fill her hands also. It was a morning that was overflowing with unlooked for bounty.

[ElenCala Isil]

Eruanna stopped to listen to the rain, and decided to head inside. She stroked Istel once more, caressing her. Then she picked herself up and headed back to the inn. There were a great deal more people inside, but she still managed to find a lone table. She sat back, relaxed herself and watched the commotion. Again, she saw the elf-maiden.

Her eyes widened as she saw the elf-maiden chase a young hobbit-lad. To and fro they ran, under and around tables. Quite a sight indeed, thought Eruanna. Alas, after a vivacious trifle, the elf-maiden seemed to have caught up to the hobbit. The time had passed since the encounter, and Eruanna stay motionless, seated in some strange world of comfort. She got up and went up to the barkeep “Another wine, if you will,” she told the bartender. “Aye, here you go.” he said in reply, handing her a glass of the finest wine he had. “Thank you” she said.

Eruanna did not return to her seat, but instead stood. Towering over most around her, she listened to the rain, as it lulled her into a soft enchantment. It even seemed as though she could hear her song again, smooth and flowing, sad and graceful ‘twas. She opened her eyes, realizing that they were closed, and suddenly was jolted. The hobbit! Could it be? Of course, there was no doubt it was. Yet Eruanna made no attempt to find the young lass, not yet, not now. She looked around, hearing her song ever the more sweet to her ears, and she pondered if anyone could hear the song. Slowly, she took another sip from her drink, and set her glass down. She then leaned against a wall, and gently closed her eyes, listening to the distant music as if she had never heard it before.

Gently, as if unaware, she lifted her voice ever slightly. As if in a whisper, she sung once more, following the voice of the young girl. Together, they entered a world beyond imagining, their own wonderland, away from all else. They sung, louder and ever more graceful. Oh, how they sung, and as they did their very souls intertwined, and they knew everything about each other. They saw their past, and their presents and even the immediate futures were foretold to each other. They sung, louder and stronger, until alas, there remained only one voice.

Eruanna opened her eyes, and was back at the inn, and she stopped singing.

[Faye Took]

The sun was high in the sky lighting up all of Middle-Earth. Elrie walked quickly down the road. Her cloak pulled tightly around her slim body, and hood over her head. "Just a little further." she spoke in a soft voice to herself. Her breath soon began to quicken and her heart pounded for every step she took. Elrie quickend her pace as she heard the squeeking of the Inn sign in the soft breeze. "Ah, here we are." Elrie said grasping the handle to the Inn.

Voice filled her ears. The Green Dragon Inn had surely been a popular place this morning! Laughing and talk filled the room. Elrie walked in and quickly shut the door. She threw back her hood and pulled her long blonde hair from underneath her cloak. Elrie made her way to the bar. "Ma'am? Could I get an ale, please?" she asked taking a seat. "Coming right up, miss." The Inn keeper replyed. Soon after, she set a pint of ale infront of her. "Here you go, miss. The finest ale in Middle-Earth!" the Inn keeper giggled. Elrie quickly gulped down her ale. "Good to be back."

OOC: Fixed smilies/biggrin.gif ! Sorry about that!

[ May 27, 2003: Message edited by: Faye Took ]

[Envinyatar]

He sat up, and smiled at the newcomer to the table. The Inn was overrun with Fair Folk, or so it seemed these days.

‘Ah,’ he said, his attention drawn to the young woman who sat at the table eating bread and jam, ‘you must be Léspheria. I think I heard something from Aman concerning your offer of help to her.’

The pot of strawberry jam was almost gone. Derufin excused himself and rose from the table, making his way to the cupboard where Cook kept her extra jars of jam. ‘Try this,’ he offered, breaking the waxen seal on the clay jar. ‘It’s a special jam from Miz Amaranthas’ kitchen, sweet berries from her own patch mixed with tart chunks of rhubarb.’ He placed the jam, a spoon stuck handily in it, on the table near her.

As he was up already, he brought the kettle of hot water to the table, and throwing a few more leaves in the teapot, he poured the hot water in and set the tea to brewing. ‘Have one more cup, the two of you, before you begin your work day.’ He nodded at Vanwe, who stood to follow him.

‘Let me fetch the wood from the shed behind the stable,’ he told her. ‘And let me get the tools and supplies rounded up that we’ll need.’ He poured both the women a fresh mug of tea, and pushed the honey within their reach for sweetening. ‘Come out and find me when you are done, Vanwe. I’ll be in the yard, at the east side of the stable.’ He pushed his chair up against the table and cleared away his dishes to the stone sink. Cook smiled at him and he winked broadly at her, saying she would soon have the finest shelving in all of Bywater.

She laughed and waved him off, watching as he strode out the door, whistling some old air he had picked up in his travels . . .
_____________________________________________

Faye Took: - Some of us are playing out a set of scenes that take place during the daylight hours at the Inn. It is still early morning, we have just had breakfast, and there is a whole day of work and discovery ahead of us, before night falls.

Can you modify your post to reflect that?

-- Envinyatar

[Nerindel]

Léspheria smiled warmly at the elven woman offering her the honey jar.She put the jar down saying "I've never tried it on Bread before, only in the strong tea of men and hobbits." She then took another slice of bread,spreading it thickly with the honey. Then without hesitating she took a large bite, then turning back to the elven woman she nodded saying "Hmmmmmm, your right this is delicious."


Just then she heard Derufin addressing her, she turned to him, her mouth still crammed with warm bread and honey, so she just nodded. He then excused himself and rose from the table and got something from the cupboard, it was another pot of jam.Try this,’ he offered, breaking the waxen seal on the clay jar. ‘It’s a special jam from Miz Amaranthas’ kitchen, sweet berries from her own patch mixed with tart chunks of rhubarb.’ He placed the jam, a spoon stuck handily in it, on the table near her. Léspheria thanked him politely smiling.

He then poured them both a cup of tea and told the elf sitting next to her to meet him in the yard at the east side of the stables when she was done.

Once Derufin had left, Léspheria turned to the elven woman, smiling broadly and wiping her sticky hands on a napkin that was next to her, "I do not believe we have been properly introduced, my name is Léspheria and I hail from Rivendell, it is a pleasure to meet you," she said extending her hand out to the woman in friendship.

[Amanaduial the archer]

Note to all posters: Aman is FEMALE and HUMAN.

Thankyou.

[Snowdog]

(OOC: Pardon my days long absence. Real life and long weekend and no computer access, etc. I'll re-cap from where I left off to get current with it being morning.)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Silvanis checked mentally his satchels on Blackveil, and they all were in order. If this woman was a thief, she would have troubles with Blackveil and her spirit. The stabehand entered and confronted the woman, and Silvanis remained quiet thoiugh he did wish to thank him again for the tending of Blackveil. Leading her from the stables and letting her run free with a whisper, he knew she would return in the morn. He looked back at the woman, and listened to her converse with Derufin and said nothing, eyeing her and again thoughts ran south for again it seemed in the dim lamplight of the stables a familiar face. Silvanis stepped out of the stables and sucked on his unlit pipe and stood by the wall looking about the night and listening.

The skies were clearing and the uncommon northern blast of foul weather seemed to be running back north, leaving a breath of midsummer warmth that chased it off. It wil be a good day in the morn, and a day to ride to the Brandywine and across the barrowlands as he works his way south.

He stood unmoving as he watched the woman and Derufin returned to the Inn, and Silvanis thought also to return to rest for the night, though his thoughts kept remembering the eyed of the veiled woman, and now the face of this woman from the stable, and he wondered about why they seemed familiar. Was it because he missed being in the southlands? Maybe, but it was hard to tell.

As Silvanis returned to the bustling common room of the Inn and he stood aside by the doorpost, his dark leathers blending him with the wood beams. He looked about the place, and saw again the woman of the southlands, who was talking with a hobbit-lass at a nearby table. It seemed a sadness came over her, and Silvanis saw also his chair at the table across the room by the fire was yet unoccupied. His finger toyed with the roomkey he was given and also a small stone. It was only the size of a dewdrop and its deep red color seemed almost blavck in the cdim light of the common room, but in the bright sun it glowed deep red, and would leave a dot of red upon the surface behund it if held at the proper distance. How he came about it was a mystery that remains to be told, but it was at the Oasis Inn in the deep desert of Harad when he found it on him. He eyed again the woman talking with the Hobbit and it seemed for a moment a far off connection, but he wasn't sure. Silvanis hesitated for a moment before he took a step.

He thought instead he would sit and watch the common room before retiring to his room, and he started toward his old table where Derufin sat with the woman from the stable. Silvanis passed by the table where the veiled woman and hobbit talked, and with a simple twitch of his finger, the redstone landed gently unnoticed upon her lap.

Coming to the table where Derufin and Vanya sat, Silvanis said to him,

'Have you any of the Southern Star for sale? I could use a poke by the morn if you can find me some.'

His eye caught the eye of Vanwe who sat there, and Silvanis nodded to her silently while he awaited Derufin's reply, and as he sat he watched the woman with the Hobbitin case she noticed the stone upon her lap.

[Katt b]

Waen smiled at the man and decided to let him finish his meal.She turned in her chair to see what was going on in the Inn this morning.She glanced over at a table with elven folk eating. she looked around to see if Estella had returned,she had not.

Waen decided to stretch her legs and go outside.She gracefully got off her chair and made her way out the door.As soon as she had exited Kitathas flew off her shoulder with a screech.

Waen watched her go, then made her way down the steps.She sat down under a tree nearby and let her mind wonder.I wonder if my mother is worried about me? probbable not I was just a burrden to her.But must I be doomed to wander for the rest of my days?Will I ever find real true love?Will anyone really love me for who I am?She shook her head, she was being silly such thoughts were only for the young and beautiful.

Waen sighed and looked to the sky.I wonder where Kit has gone? Oh well she might be gone for awhile.I might as well go back inside,she knows where to find me.

Waen got up off the ground and began to make her way back into the Inn.Waen thought maybe Estella would show up eventually,so she decided to sit down and inspect her Bow.Maybe some of the Elven folk would approach her and she would have a chance to show off a little with her skill.

Inside Waen craved for friendship,something she had never known and even deeper she craved for someone to love her like she had heared in the stories her Mother used to tell her.She looked up from her Bow and sighed looking troubled she just stared at her hands.

[Maegaladiel]

Nahai grinned at Annalalaith.

"I see you have returned to us!" she said. "Did you hear the lady Morwyn play? She's a natural!" She jabbed a thumb at the Rohan woman with her flute. "They were meant for each other, I tell you!" Morwyn laughed.

"I shall have to dedicate that song to memory now, since it's the only thing I can play. Does it have words? Perhaps it would sound better if I had someone's voice drowning out my playing." Morwyn said, mocking her own performance. The Beorning laughed and nodded.

"Aye, it does. But I shan't ruin the song by having MY horrid voice tie its melody into knots. I believe I could write the words down for you. If you'll both excuse me, I have some parchment in my room." Nodding to the elf and woman, Nahai slipped upstairs to her room, searching for something to write on.
*********

The lone elf staggered to the Green Dragon's door. Hmm. Pain DID bother him more than he was willing to admit. Leaning on the porch, he touched his bound leg gingerly. The wound screamed in protest, bringing a pained gasp to the traveller's lips. He'd best stop in the Inn for a rest.

Slowly he pushed open the door and limped to the bar. The inkeeper looked up from her work as he eased himself into a chair, an agonized expression on his face as his battered muscles whined in further protest of their treatment.

"Are you alright?" she asked the stranger. Alright? he thought to himself. No, he was not alright. He was a mere shell of the elf he once was, before he lost his beautiful love.

"Aye," he lied. "I am well." The inkeeper raised an eyebrow, looking at his wound.

"'Well' isn't what I would call that." she said curtly. "I could have someone properly heal that, if you like." But her words fell like silent raindrops apon ears of stone. For the elf had seen what a human maid across the bar from him held in her hands. A wooden flute.

[Elora]

Vanwe took up Léspheria's hand, unsure of the proper manner of greeting and added her own name to the score.

"Vanwe am I, and I hail from... Harad," she said with the slightest of hesitation towards the end. " I am very pleased to meet you." Léspheria's brows only rose a little as she named Harad.

Derufin rose to get the day's work underway, bestowing more tea for them to enjoy. It seemed that his earlier pensiveness and sadness had never been. Vanwe struggled to keep up with her newly found and unpredictable companions. Yet before he could leave, Silvanis arrived and spoke of Southern Star.

Vanwe shot up in her chair as he arrived, sapphire eyes widening in her face. He seemed relaxed and confident, but he held a wariness in him that Vanwe knew well. Such wariness was in hunters, warriors, the men she grew up with and now many men she had been forced to elude on her long road into the north.

In the brighter light of the inn, she had a better chance to observe his face as he spoke with Derufin. A distant memory came to her of a night in her village. The fire leapt high into a clear, bejewled desert sky. Women sang and a voluptous music drifted in the air. Vanwe was not at that gathering of the village, that feast, but she watched because of the music. Closer she had crept, between the small houses and huts and through the yard that the livestock were kept in at night. A stranger had sat at that feast, admist the laughter. Some trading was occuring.

Vanwe remembered a joke about trading the village's Elf, made by a man she had always had a strong dislike for. She had crouched behind the fence of the yard and peered at him through the firelight. His companion added that they would pay the visitor, both for taking their weak northern Elf and for being so gullible as to accept an Elf left to rot in the desert by her own kin. They had laughed but Vanwe well remembered a hot anger and shame rising within her.

It had taken her from the yard to the hut where the food was being prepared. She took an earthenware dish, made her alterations and whisked it from the kitchens before those within could protest her very presence. Straight to the laughing pair she took it, head bowed and covered by her rough veil. They barely paid her any attention, helped themselves and pushed her on around the circle. Vanwe obliging had served the others, but a hint of her actual identity had been let slip by the time she reached the stranger at the feast that night.

A strand of hair had slipped free then as it still did now, and delicate gold shone in the firelight. She caught sight of it as she bowed before the stranged before which she had been humiliated, and startled had looked up. His face, the man who sat at the table now, had studied her own. She knew he understood who stood before him. One word would have had her strung up and beaten for showing her face. She was not to attend such gatherings. Her hair marked her stranger, just as her eyes and all else hidden behind her veil had then. And he had remained silent, allowing her to scurry back to the kitchen and then flee back to where she should have stayed.

The result was that the stranger had avoided her tampered food, the jokers had spent an uncomfortable night, and she had indeed been strung up and beaten when those in the kitchen reported her presence at the feast so as to avoid the beating themselves. Still, despite the consequences, Vanwe retained two things. The sense of satisfaction as she heard the men retch and groan, and the memory of the stranger's face.

She glanced back at Léspheria who was intently watching what unfolded at the table with a smooth expression most unlike Vanwe's own demonstrative one. Again her hair had slipped free and she tucked it back. She'd need to tie it back for the day. Yet as her fingers moved, Silvanis seemed to study it. Did he recognise her, she wondered... the look he had given her on that distant night was one of appraisal with his cool blue eyes. Yet, rather than flee the room in blind panic, she remained where she was, watching intently.

She would not run, not now, and she would have her notes back again even if she did have to steal them back. She glanced around the room as Silvanis and Derufin spoke.

Her heart skudded as all relaxation faded from her body. Vanwe's mind frantically scrabbled over her long flight. She had been as careful as she could as she trudged through the arduous desert and found a trade route leading north. Prior attempts to leave had been met with sound beatings and she was determined not to be brought back this time.

Silvanis, who had her notes, also shared memory and with that her identity. Was it all about to be taken away again and the hot sands swallow her once more? She realised her hands were slightly trembling and she clasped them tightly in her lap to still them. She drew a breath deep into her lungs. If it was about to end, this brief bright moment, then it would end in a manner she chose.

Iron purpose held her spine straight, and more like her kindred she could not be though she knew it not at that moment. Finarfin himself would have identified her as she sat in that inn, straight and proud, with her chin raised and eyes like bright, hard sapphires, deep with colour and strong with will.

She glanced back at Silvanis. It was unlikely her poor village had sent such a man after her. They'd have to sell their own sons to afford him, Vanwe noted, and no matter the deal they had struck with her mother they would not do that to get her back. Compared to Léspheria she was far from the "Fair Folk" as she could be, yet in her veins ran the true blood of House Finarfin that had been lost in shadow, grief and years uncountered and sundered far from her kin.

Yet her mind wheeled with all their agility. Silvanis was not sent to haul her back, but he could send rumour of her presence to those who would. If she was to emerge from this, she would need all her wits about her. Fleeing in blind panic would achieve nothing. Instead, Vanwe remained where she was, patiently waiting for her opportunity to speak to Silvanis without drawing too much attention to herself with suspicious oddities in behaviour, such as leaping through a window in escape.

She watched with Léspheria, as Derufin spoke with Silvanis and then departed whistling cheerfully to gather wood and tools.

"I should go ready myself," she said to Léspheria, as she indicated her loose hair. "I do not wish to delay Derufin as we have a full day of work ahead of us. It was a pleasure to meet you, Léspheria."

Vanwe smiled through her tension at the elven woman, wishing fervently she had some of the composure and elegance of her kindred. She stood, looking at Silvanis as she commented, "I will be in the laundry, washing my hands."

There was an unspoken plea in her eyes, much like the night of the feast. Her statement, though, was not artiface. She needed to clean her hands and comb her hair back and so, with a long glance at Silvanis, Vanwe walked as calmly as she could to the laundry to begin to prepare. Yet as she wove the delicate golden strands into a long gleaming braid, and plucked straw and blanket hairs from the fabric of her dress, her mind circled around whether Silvanis would treat with her, what he would ask in return and whether she'd simply find herself tied to a horse, again, on her way south before the day was out.

Through this all wound the music of that night she had poisoned the food in an impotent display of helpless anger and isolation. It faintly filled the laundry as she hummed the sweet, swaying, undulating melody in that unmistakeable southern minor key.

~~~~~~~

My apologies to Benia's writer, whom I both misplaced and misdescribed.
[ May 27, 2003: Message edited by: Elora ]

[ May 28, 2003: Message edited by: Elora ]

[piosenniel]

Green Dragon Inn Facts:

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

King Elessar is on the throne.

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

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

The Innkeeper, in the Green Dragon Inn of this forum, is:

Aman – a young woman from Rohan. Before her, the Innkeeper was Piosenniel, and before her it was Dwarin, the Dwarf.

Derufin, a Man from Ethring in the Ringlo Vale, is the stablemaster and general handyman/jack of all trades for the Inn.

Vinca Bunce, Hobbit – ‘Cook’ – widowed runs the kitchen

Ruby Brown, Hobbit – not married – server and maid

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

[Envinyatar]

He stopped his cheerful demeanor once he left the Inn, his face becoming somber. The song he was whistling ended on an off key note, as the memories crowded back behind his dark grey eyes.

No need to put up a casual front now, there was no one about to see him, save the horses and the occasional hen who wandered into the stable looking for spilled grain. He was safe with these companions. His bad dreams were not cause for comment among them nor did they care if oft times silence captured him.

It was an effort sometimes to play the easy going man that most in the Inn expected of him. But it was a convenient fiction that slid him through the social interactions his fellow creatures found so necessary for contact. Most wanted no more than this, and he was glad of it.

‘Well, now . . . to work,’ he called to a passing family of ducks waddling down to the nearby pond. The ducklings eyed him as he spoke, and were rewarded with a scolding from their mother, as she hurried them along with a disgruntled quack and a nip at their tail feathers, away from the man.

He carried the wooden trestles from the storage shed at the end of the stable and set them up in the yard. The oak planks he had leaned against the side of the structure already. He hefted one away from its resting place and placed it across the trestle. Retrieving his measuring cord and hard chalk from his vest pocket, he set about marking off the length needed for the shelves . . .

[Elora]

The laundry remained undisturbed other than by Vanwe's songs and her movements as she scrubbed her face and hands clean. The water was cool upon her skin, and swiftly she had bound her hair in a manner she had learnt in her childhood. The one larger braid was formed by the smaller braids she had separated her hair into, tying the thick mass off with her own hair in a quick knot at the end of the tail. She let it rest over her shoulder, a comforting and familiar weight.

Silvanis was still in the common room as she re-emerged, making the most of the pipe-weed he had obtained. Through a haze of smoke their eyes met and Vanwe actually managed a small smile as he nodded at her. Perhaps her fear of being carried off to Harad like a motley piece of luggage was unfounded, but until she could know rather than surmise she would keep her wits about her yet.

Her desire to prove Derufin right to trust her with work pushed her past Silvanis and Bernia and out into the daylight outside the inn. The storm was all but passed, and the sunlight was warm on her head and shoulders as she went in search of Derufin. She followed her keen hearing to where he had said he would await her, passing ducks and hens as she went. Their chatter was a familiar sound to her, at least the hens were. Ducks were altogether a mysterious creature that she had not seen until she reached the better watered coast and temperate climes in the north. They reminded her of geese, in a way.

Rather than further explore that, she continued on her path and found Derufin on the easterly side of the stable surrounded by lumber with chalk in hand. He was bent over the trestle and rather than interrupt him, Vanwe instead placed her hand against a piece of oak leaning against the stable wall.

It was still rough and warmed by the sun. Her eyes drifted shut as she felt for the shapes that raw length held within it. A shadow moved before her face as Derufin straightened and turned to find Vanwe standing with her eyes closed and hand held against the lumber in a manner most would describe as peculiar. Yet the dreamy smile on her face suggested something else was afoot.

Her eyes flew open as Derufin cleared his throat.

"I trust you'll be able to offer at least a little assistance before you retire for the evening," came his question. Vanwe nodded her assent.

"Yes... I was just getting a feel for the wood," she explained in a less than satisfactory manner. She sidestepped quickly away from the oak and dropped her hand back to her side.

"Are these the tools," she inquired, guesturing to a small gathering of equipment near the trestle. She crouched by them, taking up the hammer and testing its grip in her hand. It would be good to work again, she thought as she glanced up to Derufin. The shadows were there, faintly, she thought. Only faintly, but they were there. She blinked to break her study and stood again.

"I can help you mark out the width, or cut and smooth them... I would make the fences and repair the buildings of the village," she added. "I can make other things too, but I don't think you'll be wanting those," she finished humbly.

She picked up the saw in demonstration of her readiness and looked back at the wood Derufin had been marking out.

[Envinyatar]

He watched the way she hefted the saw in preparation for beginning the cuts and smiled to himself. So, she was honest in that – she had some knowledge of working with wood. He nodded at the plank he had laid out on the trestle.

‘Go ahead,’ he said, ‘make the cuts. I’ll take the ones you’ve done then and drill them on the ends for pegs.’ He pointed with a tilt of his chin to the boards now neatly balanced against the wall of the stable. ‘I finished marking those, so go ahead and work your way through them. Once we’re done with this, then we’ll sand and wax them, and put them up for Cook.’

They fell into an easy rhythm and the morning passed quickly amidst the sounds of sawing and the tangy smell of oak shavings, mixed with the lemony smell of wax. Time flew by in companionable silence, broken only by the low murmur of a short query here and there followed by the needed answer.

Derufin pulled the red handkerchief from his breeches pocket and wiped the sweat from his face. The sun was full on them now, and he rolled up the sleeves to his shirt above his elbows. Sweat beaded on the hairs of his arms, glistening in the light. ‘Break time, I think,’ he said smiling at her.

Cook had come out of the kitchen, bearing a pitcher of chilled water just drawn from the well. Sweat condensed, too, on the metal sides of it, and ran in small rivulets down its sides.

He poured two mugs of the cold liquid and offered her an apple from the basket he had brought out to the stable as treats for the ponies and horses. ‘Let’s sit in the shade for a moment, under the tree there.’ She followed as he walked toward the bushy maple and sat down, his back against the trunk. He looked up at her, a hesitant look on her face, and bade her sit for a while.

‘There are no benches, m’lady,’ he said, half grinning at her, as he bit into the apple in his hand. He chewed on it thoughtfully for a moment, savoring the sweet, tart flavor of it. ‘You have some skill with wood, I see,’ he said off handedly, his eyes following the duck family as they searched beneath the plant leaves in the Inn yard for bugs and grubs. ‘Though this is just rough work we’re doing today.’ He flipped the apple core to one of the guest’s ponies who shared the shade of the tree with them.

‘Tell me, those other things you mentioned, that you can make from wood -- what are they?’

[Elora]

Whilst the skirts of a gown were not the habitual garb of choice for woodworkers, Vanwe was glad of them nonetheless as she lacked a hankerchief. Instead she wiped down her hands on the folds of fabric at her hip and followed Derufin to the shade of the maple. Ponies snorted as they arrived and she folded down to sit next to him.

She accepted the apple with a bemused smile that only someone who had been raised as she had would perhaps appreciate. His question was the second surprise and she blinked at the apple in her hand.

"It very much depends on the wood," she started. Derufin chewed another mouthful of apple and hungry she started on her own apple. The fruit in her hand was prevalent in the north, and a rareity in her land of childhood. It was amazing how quickly she had begun to feel hungry, even after the large feast that had comprised breakfast.

"The wood knows what it holds. I simply set it free," she added after a moment's more thought. "Sometimes it is small things, containers, goblets, platters, small figures. Sometimes it is larger things, like tables, chairs, houses even. But I have never been able to make those larger things - it wasn't allowed..."

Vanwe took another bite as a thought occured to her. "And sometimes a whole tree has very large ambitions," she added. "Not even the largest tree could make a whole ship." As she chewed on her apple, she grinned a little until another thought dawned upon her. Had she said too much? She took a sip of the cool drink by her and ventured her own question.

"What of you? What sorts of things do you make other than shelves... m'lord? You are very good with the timber, and I can see that you know more than pantry shelves."

She threw the title in playfully, for she had not missed the m'lady he had tossed in her direction. She had, around her words, managed to devour the apple. The ponies only got from her a meagre apple core that she had flicked in their direction. A few slim strands that had escaped her braid drifted around her face in the shade as she wondered how he would respond to her own curiosity.

[ May 28, 2003: Message edited by: Elora ]

[Nerindel]

As Vanwe left, Léspheria rose from her seat, and lifting their breakfast dishes she wandered over to the large stone sink. As she washed them she contempleted her conversation with the elven woman. 'why would an elf live that far south?'she puzzled to herself, 'and why had Silvanis and the exotic woman in the common room troubled her so.' She was still thinking on this when she heard a loud thud and a high pitched yell coming from the pantry, she rushed over to see what had happened.

As she peered into the pantry she saw cook hopping about on one foot, cursing at a large jar that had obviously fallen on the foot that she was now holding in her hands as she hopped about."Are you ok " Léspheria asked, trying hard not to laugh at the comical scene before her. "Do I look ok" cook scolded, but seeing Lespheria's surprised look she apologised almost at once.

"Do you need any help" Lespheria ask, The hobbit woman looked back up at her shaking her head, "No, I am almost finnished here, but I am sure that Ruby would appreciate some help in the common room wiping the tables," she said pointing to a small basin of hot soapy water. Léspheria nodded and went to fetch the basin, as she made her way to the door leading to the common room she remembered that she had no idea who this Ruby was. "How will I recognise Ruby" she called back to the pantry, without looking up cook waved her hand saying "She'll be the hobbit with the mop in her hands." "Ok thank you she called back" she then took a deep breath, smiling as she pushed open the door of the common to start another day of work at the notorious Green dragon inn.

[Envinyatar]

Derufin laughed at her use of the term, and standing, brushed the covering of sawdust from his shirtfront. ‘M’lord! Now there is a term not often applied to me.’ He squinted up at the sky, checking the position of the sun, and laughed again, ‘Or ever . . . now that I think on it.’

He stretched his tanned and muscled hands out in front of him, regarding them with some amusement, as he turned them back to front, noting the thickened skin on the palms and fingertips, the small scars where he had been cut. ‘These are no lord’s hands. Just the working hands of a farmer, a fisherman, and one who was once pressed into service as a warrior.’ His gaze dropped for a moment to the ground. And the hands of a man who has buried his comrades and his family. . .

‘But you m’lady,’ he said, the smile back on his face, ‘you have a love for the wood. It speaks to you, does it not? My skill is limited to making sturdy, useful things. Though of late I have tried my hand at the finer tools I found in the stable’s workshop. A small attempt at crafting a gift for a friend.’

He held out his hand to her and pulled her to her feet. ‘Cook will be wondering why her shelves aren’t up yet, since I’ve found me such a fine assistant. Come! We’ll carry them in to the kitchen and get them pegged in place. She’ll want to restock them herself. She has a system all her own.’ He laughed and shook his head at memories of his first days at the Inn when he had put things back willy-nilly and Cook, barely half his height, had scolded him soundly, shaking her cooking spoon for emphasis - impressing upon him the need to ‘pay attention’ next time, or there would be no more foraging in her domain.

‘Once we’re done, we’ll just clean up here. Then you can have the rest of the afternoon to yourself. I’ll put the horses and ponies in the fenced pen beneath the shade trees. And there’ll be naught to do after that until we take them to their stalls in the late evening.’

Derufin picked up the stacked shelving, indicating she should bring in the sack of pegs and the hammers whose heads were wrapped in thick leather . . .

[Katt b]

Just then as Waen was staring off into her hands a lone Elf come through the doors,he looked like he was in pain. He sat down slowly at the bar.Aman approached him and said something to him,but he just shook his head.

I wonder where Kitathas is? I'm starting to get worried,maybe I should go and look for her.Waen stood up quickly,placed her bow in her pack on her back,and made her way to the door.She could not take her eyes off the elf that had just sat down,she was drawn to him for some reason.

Suddenly Waen heard in the distance a soft cry, moments later Kit glided into the Inn,she eyed the Elf at the bar,turned abruptly and landed gracefully off to the left side where the elf sat. She made a sound that was close to a coo and wobbled closer to the elf.

Waen was flabbergasted!Did Kit feel drawn to him as well? Waen was not sure how the elf would take a Hawk landing beside him.It might startle him.Waen let out a sharp whistle,Kit's head snapped back to look at Waen she hesitated,then hopped off the bar and flew to Waen's shoulder.

The elf turned and looked at Waen,slightly startled by the Hawk.Waen blushed at his stare and averted her eyes towards Kit.She was afraid this Elf would be like the others and dislike her for her 5" frame and the face of a young teenager.

Waen whispered to Kit and with one more glance at the elf she made her way hesitantly to the door and stepped out.

[Alatariel Telemnar]

Alatariel sat next to the elf at the bar. The connection she felt suddenly vanished. 'Twas odd... She took a last sip of her wine and walked away from the bar and out of the Inn. She went into the stables to check on Aranel.

Aranel was standing up in the back of her stall, with her head sticking out of the window. "Aranel, what are you doing?" Alatariel asked. Aranel jerked her head around to Alatariel, her head was dripping wet from the rain. "Do you want to go outside?" Alatariel said, laughing after she knew what Aranel was doing. Aranel neighed and walked over to the front of the stall. Alatariel took her out of the stall and walked out into the rain. She put her hood on. "Aranel, I think it's time to leave now. Something tells me we won't be gone long, but I have to go find something out," Alatariel said looking back to the Inn, "Namárië, for the present."

Alatariel rode away from the Inn, the rain whipping against her face. Aranel speeding as fast as she could, glad to get the feelings back in her legs, and glad to be able to ride fast.

[piosenniel]

Point of Information:

It is approximately mid-afternoon on a fine sunny day in the Shire.

The person who takes us to evening and night please post at the head of your post what time of day it is.

Also do this if your character is bringing us to a new day (and please don't hurry this process just because you need your character to come in darkness).

[Elora]

As he had stood in the sunlight, she seen something not so sunny in his eyes again. But Vanwe bit her questions. She had no right to question Derufin, when he had been so careful with her own doubtful past. She studied him. He was tall and she well knew the farmers and warriors of her village. He was stronger in more ways than his powerful build, she sensed. They did not seem as he did, although she had never rightly met a fisherman before. Scant work for such a profession in the Haradian Waste.

Vanwe let her natural questions bubble silently within her and merely nodded as he pulled her to her feet.

"A whole afternoon," she murmured. That meant she would be able to give her badly used dress a much needed wash, provided she found a stream. Up here in the north, she suspected she would not have to look far. She could patch some of the holes with the lining of her cloak too. And there was Silvanis too.

Vanwe collected the pegs and hammers and followed Derufin. "I can help with the horses and ponies too," she called after him. She did not wish to leave Derufin the lion's share of the work. Vanwe smiled at Léspheria as she passed her in the common-room. The Elven woman favoured her with a smile in return that was shortened when she noticed another table in need of wiping down and Vanwe noticed Derufin had already made it to the kitchen. She juggled the pegs and hammer back into position and hurried after him.

The kitchen was a hive of activity, and Cook seemed none to pleased in general. However, the lesser evil of having her pantry back in proper working condition seemed to outweigh the imposition of two more people underfoot. She waved them on impatiently, and they proceeded to install the shelving.

The pantry was filled with the murmurings of them both as they maneouvred the shelving into place one by one and then tapped home the pegs to afix them. Vanwe heard Cook mutter something about infernal noise as she checked on their progress. Derufin only smiled in response to her review of their work and the noise. Vanwe found herself wondering how the sound the leather encased hammers on pegs could possibly compete with the sounds of the larger kitchen. Judging from the look on Cook's face and Derufin's diplomatic smile, Vanwe decided not to venture that question either and carried on.

It was short work, made easier by the fact that two sets of hands were working together in the same companionable bond that had started in the morning. When they did step back after checking each shelf was level and properly supported, Cook swooped in and evicted them so as to get her pantry back into propper working order.

"I can help with the horses, if you wish Derufin," Vanwe repeated as they returned to where they had been working through the morning. Soon enough, Vanwe had managed to gather the offcuts and put them back undercover with the rest of the lumber. The trestles were also packed away and the tools and pegs stored. She dusted the thin pattina of wood dust from her hands as she watched Derufin move to the stalls in readiness to lead their occupants out into the afternoon warmth and breeze.

He worked as easily with them as he did with the timber, and her, she reflected. She studied how he went about leading the horses and ponies out, and replicated that herself. She had limited experience with such creatures, but they responded well enough. Silvanis' horse, though, she left to Derufin. Blackveil eyed her almost as closely as Silvanis had and she had the uncanny feeling she knew as much as much about Vanwe's background as her owner.

Well all was completed, and feed and water provided within the dappled shade of the pen, Vanwe leant against the fence and watched the horses and ponies move about, scenting the air and each other. Derufin latched the gate after Blackveil had been seen to.

"Thankyou, Derufin," she said as he set the latch in place. "You've been very kind. Although I do not know why, I am very grateful."

She smiled shyly at him and dropped a curtsy that although possessed the fluid grace of her race, was made incongruous by the beggared state of her gown. She spread her skirts nonetheless. When she had straightened, she added something else.

"I'll not keep you longer from the peace of your afternoon and I'll be on time tonight, I swear it... "

With that, her smile widened a little to light her face and she returned to where she had left her small pack in the stable to collect it. That in hand, with a wave to Derufin, she headed off to where she thought it likely a stream was. She had a lot to do in one afternoon and as she had thanked Derufin again she had added something else to her tally.

Soon enough, she was sitting in the afternoon light on a stream bank, wrapped in her cloak whilst her one dress, freshly cleaned and mended now dried. Vanwe bent over a small block of wood. Her belt knife moved with purpose and she hummed as what was within the wood started to emerge. She paused, blowing on the wood to clear some shavings away and smiled at what she saw, before she continued on again. Her song picked up as the sun moved overhead, lost in her work and her musings of all the conundrums she seemed to have found for herself.

[steve]

Cygnus sits silently at the bar feeding the reminants of his meal to his companion, Tran'oul, a cat. The young hobbit that had been petting the cat left to find something better to do.

Cygnus raises himself up slowly from the chair takes his room key from the counter and heads for the stairs. He starts to climb the stairs and stips and falls to the stairs with a bang, attracting glances from all in the inn. He staggers to his feet and limps up the stairs, looking very much like a skeleton.

He crosses the hall to his room and opens the door and collapses on the bed then slowly raises himself and opens his pack. Taking out a wilted dead rose he puts it in a vase on the night table and smells it, seeming to get a boost of energy he stands up and stretches and starts to unload books from his bag

[ May 28, 2003: Message edited by: steve ]

[Silmarien]

Amarantha headed back towards the inn after a long day of exploring this part of the Shire. She was staying with her cousins as it was one of their birthdays. But she was also here to meet people and generally have fun.

As she was nearing it she met a small lady with a hawk on her shoulder. “Hi” she said with a smile, “where do you hail from, Bree?” she asked not quite sure of her race. This woman (she could tell she was female) was only a little bit taller than herself, but didn’t seem quite hobbitish but seemed too small for an elf or man. But Aramantha didn’t mind, she looked like an interesting person to talk to.

[Sophia the Thunder Mistress]

Morwyn felt a chill in the room as Nahai hurried up stairs after a parchment and quill. The hairs on the back of the woman's neck lifted as if someone were staring at her. Annalaliath was chattering excitedly about all the trouble she'd gotten in as a child, and all the trouble the three of them would be able to make together.

Not wishing to alarm the girl, Morwyn listened with half her attention, while nonchalantly trying to survey the room. Her eyes wandered over elf and hobbit and man, but nothing seemed amiss. The chill persisted however, and she gently lowered the flute to the table. It rolled a few inches from her fingertips and she sighed.

Annalaliath looked up startled, as the story she was telling should have been extremely funny. Morwyn, realizing that her sudden fear was quite silly attempted to laugh. The giggle escaped her lips, high pitched and nervous. Annalaliath's expression became even more confused. Morwyn turned in her seat, half hoping to see hostile eyes behind her. She knew full well that she was being ridiculous but she couldn't help herself.

Just as she was about to settle back down, she met the eyes of a bedraggled creature sitting at a table near the door. His leg was bound as though it were injured and his face was heavily shadowed by the hood of his cloak. Morwyn gazed at him raptly, not able to tell if he were man or elf.

In an attempt to hide her nervousness Morwyn groped for the flute. Her fingers found it and she held it in front of her, as though she were going to play. The stranger's eyes locked on it. Annalaliath's puzzled gaze became frightened. "Morwyn? Who is that?" she asked. "Do you know this man?"

Morwyn shook her head in surprise. "No. I've no idea." The stranger stood and began to walk toward them. Morwyn clutched the flute like a weapon and hoped Nahai would hurry back.

[Katt b]

Waen stepped out of the Inn she felt a little silly for her reaction to the Elf, but she could sense a pain in him deeper then the wound on his leg.She wanted to help him, she did not know why.

Waen suddenly realized that Kit had also been sensitive to the elf,she wondered why.Then out of the distance she saw a Hobbit approaching, Waen thought it might be Estella,but it was another woman.

As she drew near she called "Hi,Are you from Bree?" Waen was a little taken back by the Hobbit's bluntness, but then she remembered Estella was like that as well,and it made her smile.

The thought of the elf left her mind for a moment, she brushed her hair away from her face,reveiling her long pointed elven ears."No,I come from fair Lothlorien.May I ask your name?" Waen said with a lovely smile.

[Tinuviel of Denton]

"My'lady?" called Soronume. When that elicited no response, he tried again. "Niniel? Where are you?"

When Niniel heard Soronume coming, she hid behind the shed. She did not feel up to facing any questions at the moment. She waited until he had gone around the other side of the building before slipping out of her hiding place. She did not go back into the Inn, however, and simply watched the people who passed her on their way in and out.

She envied the small elf with the hawk her ability to make friends so easily. Already she was chatting with the hobbit like old friends. And the golden-haired elf who wrote things was so lucky. At least she didn't stutter.

Whenever anyone came too near her, she moved, and found another spot to sit and watch the passersby, eventually ending up beside the stables. And it was there that Soronume found her.

She tried to bolt, but he stepped in front of her. "My'lady--Niniel, please."

[steve]

It was cold in Cygnus' room, the end-tables now cluttered with books, scrolls and tatered transcripts. All of these from diffent times and scripted in diffrent languages. Many of them written in a Sindarian by a skilled hand seemingly, and a few written in Dwarvish runes. One page stood out of the bunch tho, a tattered parchment written in the black language of mordor.

Cygnus, sitting on a old stool behind a long wooden table, has been suffling through the stacks of papers. Seeming to have found what he was looking for he gets up to his feet, folds the tattered parchment and places it in his bag.

A loud cry comes from inside his room as he starts to walk out, Cygnus turns around and engages in feeding Tran'oul, for which he frogot. Turning from the cat he walks back out into the hallway with a quick stride and procedes to go back down the stairs into the common room, slowing down greatly and falsley limping as he enters.

Crossing the common room and out the door, Cygnus reestablish his quick pace and walks speedly toward the stables and his horse.

[ May 29, 2003: Message edited by: steve ]

[Maegaladiel]

Nahai put her hands on her hips, somewhat frusterated. She KNEW that there was some paper in this room somewhere... She looked on the little table by her bed, disrupting a bar of soap and a quill pen in the process. Grunting in annoyance, she bent over to retrieve them from the floor. Her eye caught something cream colored under her bed. AHA!

Grinning triumphantly, the Beorning pulled the sheet of paper out. However had it gotten down there?

Humming the song she had taught to Morwyn, she struggled to recall the words as she wrote them down in her thin, scraggly handwriting.
*****

The stranger's eyes were glued on the flute Morwyn held in her hands. Nervously she brought it to her lips, as though to play. Annalalaith once again returned to drumming her fingers on the worn wooden bar in nervousness.

"Forgive me," the stranger said, realizing that his stare was making her uncomfortable. His voice was fluid and musical, bearing a deep, distinct elven accent. "But where did you get that flute? You see, I am searching for someone who once had an instrument such as that." Exactly like that, now that he got a better look at it. His heart skipped a beat as he realized the possibilities of the situation. Don't get your hopes up, he reminded himself. This could just be another wild orc chase.

He pulled the hood back off of his face. He was indeed elven, Morwyn noted. His face, although smudged with dirt and battered by the force of exaustion, had the characteristic beauty of his people. What suprised Morwyn was how old he looked.

At least, 'old' was the best word to describe it. He looked as most elves, young and fair, but something in his eyes made him seem like an ancient mortal was trapped inside this ever-youthful form.

He watched her now with an expression mixed with sadness and hope as he waited for her to reply.

[piosenniel]

ALL PLEASE NOTE:

The postal delivery man, Halfred Whitfoot, who is also the Shiriff for this section of the Shire, has just arrived at the Inn with letters for the staff and customers. He comes once a week or so, as the volume of mail demands, and the Inn is always his last stop. Loves the ale and Cook’s good food, as you can see from his substantial Hobbit figure.

I have mentioned a few names, but please, everyone who wishes to, feel free to come up and get a letter from Wilfrid, and share what someone might have written to you.
__________________________________________________ ________________________________________

It was slow this time of year. That is, as far as the postman was concerned. And to be honest, he was glad of it. The good Hobbits of the Shire were busy in their gardens and farming, too busy to be writing letters. It would pick up in the fall, when the harvest had been gotten in. The heavy season would be in the winter months, when writing a letter by the cozy fire, a warm drink at hand and a full pipe was a comfortable and pleasant way to pass a cold day.

In this season, the days were hot, and it mattered not how early he got up to ride his route, by late afternoon he was uncomfortable, drenched in sweat, his clothes chafing against his ample figure, and in a decidedly irritable state. Even his pony was dragging along this warm midsummer’s day, head down, hooves plodding slowly along the dusty road.

Halfred Whitfoot pulled the red handkerchief from his vest pocket and wiped the sweat from his florid face again. He pushed up the rim of his green cap and glanced at the sun.

‘Should be at the Inn in an hour or so, Dumpling,’ he said aloud to his pony. ‘There’ll be a trough of cool water for your thirst and a pint of summer’s ale for me.’

Dumpling, seeming to understand his rider’s words, picked up the pace a little. Halfred reached down into the worn leather mail pouch that hung from the saddle, pulling out his last fat fistful of letters. Lots of traffic through the Inn these days he thought to himself, seeing the exotic and fine papers the sealed letters were written on. He peered closely at the scripts on each, cyphering out the names of the people he was to deliver them to:

Morwyn, written in a bold hand

Waen, in a fine Elven script, a small drawing of a hawk perched vigilant on the shoulder of the ‘W’

Cygnus, on some dusty, rolled up parchment, tied with fine black cording.

Miss Gilly, a decidedly Hobbit hand had penned this name

Aman, a woman’s hand had written this one

There were many more, but his sweaty fingers were beginning to leave marks on them, and not wanting to smudge the inks, he put them carefully back in his satchel.

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

Dumpling picked up the pace to almost a trot as the scents of the Inn came in range. His ears twitched excitedly at thoughts of those apples the stableman kept in the basket by the door.

Halfred gave the reins to Derufin as he dismounted. He puffed up the stairs to the Inn door and went in to the cool interior of the Common Room, pausing for a few moments as his eyes adjusted to the darker interior.

Ah! There was Aman standing behind the bar, filling tankards from the great barrel.

‘I’ll take one of those, if you don’t mind Mistress Aman!’

She handed him a foaming pint, watching him with a smile as he gulped half of it at the first drink. ‘Top it off, if you please!’ he said in a satisfied voice. Taking a swipe at his upper lip, where the ale had left its mark, he turned round to face the customers in the room.

‘Mail call!’ he announced in a loud voice that carried over the conversations in progress, all the way to the farthest corner. ‘Now gather round, I’ve got a score of letters here.’

He pulled the first one from the stack and read off the name . . .

[ May 29, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Amanaduial the archer]

"I'll take one of those, if you don't mind, Mistress Aman."

Aman turned to see the red faced Shirriff cum postman standing behind her. She handed him a pint and smiled as he gulped away half of it immediately. "All is well, Halfred?"

The Shirriff put down his tankard for a moment to take a breath of air, smacking his lips contentedly. "Ah! I should say so, Aman, and it just got better with the intervention of this ale! Top it off, if you please!"

Aman smiled and inclined her head. It was an unwritten rule that the postman was given as much ale as he wished for when he came, so long as he was still able to stand upright and deliver whatever messages were needed. As she turned back to the barrels, Halfred cleared his throat importantly and addressed the denizens of the Inn, who looked up expectantly.

"Mail call! Now gather round, I've got a score of letters here, see..."

Holding out the first, a dusty parchment, elegantly tied with black string or cord, he announced the name. "Cygnus!"

A young man who Aman had noticed but had not been able to spend much time turned to look in the direction of the mailman from where he stood on the stairs, coming down from his room apparently, a small cat perched on his shoulders. He looked surprised, but crossed the room and, smiling, albeit a little puzzledly, he took the scroll, but didnt immediately unwravel it.

Aman's nosy nature got the better of her and she couldn't help peering into Halfred's bag as he took out the next letter as she put down the ale on the table beside him. He shut the satchel top, but not before Aman got a glimpse of her own name, written in a familiar hand. Halfred placed a finger to his nose, grinning boyishly. "Not yet, mistress, 'tis only polite to give your guests a chance first."

Aman rolled her eyes, feigning impatiency although she was smiling as well, and, deprived of her letter for the meantime, she began to busy herself with collecting cups from around the common room as Halfred 'announced' the name on the next letter...

[Mood]

From years of wandering, learning and exploring, of hunting, fleeing and merrymaking, this trio of
friends were drawn back to their starting point.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” an elven traveller, blond haired and eyes of striking blue, burst through the inn
entrance. “Elves and Dwarfs, Men and Hobbits, Salutations.” Behind him, stepped him two travelling
companions. One, looking very similar, his brother, and the other, an Elven maid of surpassing beauty
and grace, his brother’s wife. “I am Myguel,” he spoke on, “my brother, Enguel,” his brother stepped
forward, “and to his right, his blindingly beautiful better half, Ywen.” She bowed slightly.

The three were clothed alike, fir tunics of silver sheen, and warm cloaks of silver brown, they shimmered
in the soft sunlight that crept into the Inn common room.
“Begging your pardon master?” A small waitress tugged on his cloak.
“Myguel bend down to her level. “To the centre of the earth and back we have travelled. From the
Havens grey to Lothlorian the fair, from Harad to Rhun, and most recently to the beloved King of Gondor,
Estel, who is a dear friend of old. Of all the places, peoples and treasures I have seen, none is more dear
then our Hobbits.” He spoke grandly using his arms expressively. There was clapping from the other
guests, and a small “thank you” from the hobbits.

“Two rooms my dear, and a meal. But do not disturb us yet with such things, songs and stories from afar
wait to be song and told. Aa' menealle nauva calen ar' malta.” The elves in the room pricked their ears.
“Who are you master?” She asked.
“As I told you, I am Myguel the traveller, or if you like lady, High elf of Rivendell.” He moved to the bar.
“Enguel, Ywen, join me for a drink?” He called to the bartender. “Three of your finest, my good man.”
The three sat at a centre table with their drinks. Curious young hobbits circled around them.
“Tell us of your story, master, and news of Gondor.” Asked a hobbit, and an elf from the corner cried out,
“Kwentra lye i'narn!”
“My young friends, what do you wish to know?”
“How you came about here, sir, with your grand friends?”
“Why wouldn’t we lad? A special place in the hearts of all high elves resides in the Shire.” Elves nodded
at this. “And your beer is always good.” He winked at the waitress.

“Brother!” Enguel stood up laughing. “Stop this nonsense. Our audience is in need of answers.”
“Well them why don’t you tell them, most beloved of kin.”
“If you wish to know, my brother revealed we were high elves from Rivendell. We were prisoners of our
own wills there; fear was in our hearts to leave its valleys. Master Elrond, many years passed, made the
grand announcement of our triumph over the dark lord, and also of his near departure to the Havens.
With that knowledge, another fear struck our hearts.”

“For thousands of years, Myguel, Ywen and I have lived in Arda, only protected in the hidden Valley. We
have hidden from evil and we wished to seethe land of which we have lived. Weary of this land and of its
mortals, Master Elrond had said. We have not touched all the lands, nor met all of their mortals. How
could we be weary?”

“We left to do just that. We have been welcomed by Dwarfs, Men and Hobbits; Ents, orcs and evil
creatures. My brother has said, we will not depart for the sea until we know everything and tire of our
home here. Now, once again we visit the Shire. Estel sends his greetings!” Myguel stood up.
“Enough Brother, well told, but I would like to speak of the King. Mighty is his majesty. He protects the
lands and flowers their fields. The white tree blooms proudly the gardens of Minas Tirith.”
Myguel told of their visit. The Lady Arwen has now a son and two daughters, who grace the land. Elves
multiply once again in Ithilien, under the protection of the Kind and of Prince Faramir, and Éowen has
bared her love two sons. “It is a prosperous time for Men!” Clapping and cheering are heard from the
Inn’s Men.

The Inn’s guests are quite intrigued by these gay, happy elves. They are queer indeed, but welcomed for
their stories and songs. Late into the afternoon, they sing and talked. For Myguel, Enguel and Ywen are very
interested in all doings of everyone in The Green Dragon, and wish to hear their stories.

[ May 29, 2003: Message edited by: Mood ]

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

[Nerindel]

The three hobbit women that worked in the inn had kept Léspheria decidedly busy all morning, she had started the day aiding Ruby Brown clean the common room and serving the guests their breakfast's, then Buttercup Brownlock had dragged her upstairs to help make beds and freshen up the empty rooms and before she had had a chance to rest Cook had her in the kitchen washing the lunch dishes. She hadn't realised that there was so much work to be done to keep the inn running smoothly.

Vinca (cook) finding out she hadn't stopped all morning had given her a large slice of warm wildberry pie as way of an apology, but Lesperia really hadn't minded all the work it had kept her mind off worrying about Lóthaniel and Fawain.

It was now late afternoon and Léspheria had grabbed a cup of nettle tea and took it and her pie into the common room. the inn was now busy again so she pulled out a stool at the bar and sat down, she was just taking her first mouthful of pie when she heard,

‘I’ll take one of those, if you don’t mind Mistress Aman!’

She looked round to see who had spoken and there beside her sat a rather round, red faced hobbit, just as she was wondering who he was, the hobbit turn to address the whole room.

‘Mail call!’ he announced in a loud voice that carried over the conversations in progress, all the way to the farthest corner. ‘Now gather round, I’ve got a score of letters here.’

Léspheria nearly jumped out of her seat, she hadn't expected the hobbit to be quiet so loud, so he is the postman, then she thought to herself as she turned back to her pie.

She Did not expect that there would be anything for herself as a messenger from her home in Rivendell had only been yesterday, so she just sat eating the delicious pie and sipping on her tea listening to the silence of Man, hobbit and elf a like,waiting patiently to see if their name would be called.