The Green Dragon Inn - Part 8

[piosenniel]

Part 7 of the Inn was acting up, so I have closed it, and opened this new one.

~*~ Carry on, Shirelings! ~*~
_____________________________________________

Green Dragon Inn Facts:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Other ongoing characters in the Inn:

Ruby Brown, Hobbit – not married – server and maid

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

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

Ongoing characters from outside the Inn:

Halfred Whitfoot – local Shiriff and Postmaster; his pony’s name is Dumpling.
_____________________________________________
Please Note:

No 'SAVES' are allowed in the Inn.

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

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

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

_____________________________________________


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

_____________________________________________

It is now afternoon in the Shire.

The clouds have blown away, and the day has grown warm.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 10:35 PM December 24, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Melisil]

Melisil raised her head, a man, she wasn't sure where from, sat next to her. "You're mightily pretty to be sitting all by yourself," he said, "My name's Eruisto. What might yours be?"

"Melisil," she replied, smiling slightly.

"Well, m'Lady Melisil, welcome to the Green Dragon Inn," he replied, "What brings you here?"

"Hello, thank you for the welcome and the compliment." she said smiling, "I've been travling to many different places, I've stopped here for a few days rest. I came here to the Shire to deliver a message, but, now that I've done that, I'll probably be leaving for home again soon." Melisil replied, answering his question as best she could, "And what about yourself? Are you here often?"

[SonOfBombadil]

Lewis was about to order some drinks for his new friends and himself, when he heard the cry of "free drinks!" from an excited little hobbit.

Well that settles that, Lewis thought. Just then, a hobbit lass came and placed three drinks on the table. "Thank you" he said.

Lewis took a swallow of his ale, and said. "Ravon, if you don't mind me asking, where are you from? Eofeng here, and myself are both from the sweet plains of Rohan."

[Eothed]

Éothed were riding up the hill and looked down at a few small houses. He stroked his long darkbrown hair away from hes eyes so he could se better. It seemed like a very nice place. He jumped down from the horse back and walked beside the rest of the way. He saw a sign that said; 'The Green Dragon Inn' He slowly removed his dark green hood and walked over to the stables and left Roman, his horse, there. He walked to the Inn and thought;Seems like a very nice Inn, maybe I should stay here for a while. It was so long since I last were here, but this time my cause is different.

He left his Longsword by the door and walked over to a table. He still weared his breastplate that covered hes shoulders and breast and hes boots, but he had left hes helmet in the stable with Roman, he didnt whant to look like he were prepared to fight. He also wearded a pendant in pure gold formed like a horse. He got thirsty and orderd ale. His mouth were so dry and he could almost not talk. He looked around and saw two dwarves discussing some adventures they were planning and how much gold and diamonds they would found. But Éothed were not interested in the dwarves discussion, to him they seemed to greedy. He saw a few hobbits sitting around a table with ale and discussed something. They talked fast and almost whisperd to each other.

After Éothed finnished his pint of ale he looked around a felt for talking to someone after the refreshment in his dry throat. He looked around but everyone seemed busy. Éothed sighed and continued looking around for soemone to talk to.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 3:41 AM December 23, 2003: Message edited by: Eothed ]

[piosenniel]

Camlost, the crow

From his perch on the gutter of the stable, Camlost could see the comings and goings of the Inn’s patrons as they trudged down the muddied road. The rain had passed, and the traffic to and fro had picked up as the sun brightened in the sky, burning the clouds away.

Old Yellow Eye – that is what some of the Orcs had called it that he’d had the misfortune to meet in the Misty Mountains. They’d cursed it and shaken their gnarled fists at it as they scurried below - to the shadows and welcoming darkness of the caves at the mountains’ roots. Camlost had grown to enjoy this spectacle and praised the sun each time it rose. Orc-chaser, he called it. Its rising meant he was free to roam about the wooded hillsides, hunting for small animals when he could, or picking at the remains of what ever the Orcs had killed. Thoughts of food filled his mind. He had slept for a long while, and now his bird belly ached with its emptiness.

Gnawing hunger made him brave. He flew down to a small window that had been thrown open to catch the afternoon’s light and warm breezes. Landing on the shutter, he cocked his head and peered in cautiously. The two-foots were all chattering like magpies to each other and enjoying the liquid refreshments of the Inn.

He sailed in silently through the window, flying quickly with only a few hushed beats of his wings to the shadowed cross beam just above the bar. With any luck one of the diners would leave some scraps (and a swig of ale, he hoped), which he could partake of.

Camlost settled in. He was a patient bird once his goal was set in his mind. He could wait . . .

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 5:12 PM December 22, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Phervasaion]

"I have been to Rohan quite recently," replied Phervásaion. "But I only passed through it to get here. From what I saw of it everything looked peaceful and the people looked happy,"

Phervásaion turned to look out the window of the inn and the sun was shining through. "Ah, the clouds have cleared up. I may go for a walk around the Shire soon and you can join me if you wish. We could travel down to Bywater if you wanted, there’s some nice scenery there."

Phervásaion thanked Ruby when she brought him his ale refill and took a large gulp of it. "Or if there’s any where else you wanted to go I would happily go with you."

[The Perky Ent]

After telling the story of his lineage and adventures, Hamfast stared out of the window, realizing how much time had past since he met Eruisto. A greater crowd had poured into the Green Dragon, making it impossible for Hamfast to concentrate on what he was saying. Hamfast never blurted out the first thing that came to his mind (with the exception of insults).

Hamfast gazed at Ruby Brown, which would make him drool if his mouth wasn't filled with meat. Hamfast finally realized that half the time he wasn't paying attention to Eruisto, and marveling at Ruby's beauty.

"Hamfast? Hamfast? Hamfast! If you're just going to ignore me and stare at that hobbit lass all day, at least make some move. Ask her to dinner, or something." said Eruisto, rolling his eyes and drinking his 7th pint. It was amazing how little effect the ale had on him. Perhaps it was the fact that he was taller and was tired. Hamfast's father said that it takes a pint to get a tired hobbit up. Surely it would take more for a man. But surely not 6 pints more! And, as tired as he was, Eruisto didn't look sick.

"You're not serious...are you? I couldn't ask her out. She'd never say yes. Anyhow I'm not much of a ladies man." Hamfast said.

"I'll make you a deal..." Eruisto said, finally smiling as though the ale had finally got to him. "…If you ask her out for dinner, and she accepts, I'll spend the rest of your date taking her place, serving the Inn and taking orders and what not! But...if she rejects you...you have to work in the kitchen and volunteer to clean the dishes. "

"All right then, Eruisto! I hope you like being on your feet!" Hamfast said as he got up, said cheers, and walked on over to Ruby, who was on her break.

"Oh, Hamfast! You're back so soon! What has it been, ten minutes? What can I do for you? I'm most honored to help a fine gentleman like you!" Ruby Brown said with a modest smile.

"Actually, I wanted to ask what I could do for you. I was wondering...if you would dine with me at dinner. After all you have done for me, and the folk in this Inn, it seams only fair that you take a load off and enjoy the night. Actually, I have a friend who's always wanted to be a server at the Inn. He'd gladly take your place for the night! What do you say Ruby?"

"Well I don't know what to say. I'm flattered. Yes! I'd love to!" Ruby said to Hamfast as though they were the only two in the whole Inn.

"Alright then! I'll come for you later and my friend can start wading the tables!" Hamfast spoke turning away from Ruby"

Watching Hamfast go back to his table, and seeing his friend, Eruisto bang his fist on the table, drink the rest of his drink, and leave the table, Ruby muttered: "Until then..."

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 1:16 AM December 23, 2003: Message edited by: The Perky Ent ]

[Orual]

"And what about yourself? Are you here often?" Melisil asked.

Eruisto made an attempt to look humble and like he was trying to find a way around the question that would not force him to brag, but he was pretty sure it wasn't working. "Well, I'm a traveller as well, and I'm here myself for a brief respite, though it may be longer if I find myself comfortable here." He took a sip of his drink, and studied her face for a moment. There was something a little odd about it, but he couldn't tell what it was.

She was certainly pretty enough for two people, and young as well, but there was an odd quality about her, an aura, though Eruisto didn't use that word, an overlay of something that Eruisto couldn't define. Something older and wiser and sadder than her pretty face suggested.

He took another sip as he thought about it, then a thought burst over him, and he almost choked on his ale. She couldn't be...in all his travels...she was an elf! Well-travelled though he might be, he'd never met an elf before. "You're..." he began, still choking a little, and Melisil looked quizzically at him. He coughed, and tried to smile casually while he thought of a cover-up. "You're, uh, from..." Bad idea. "You're staying here at least overnight, then?" Inwardly Eruisto breathed a sigh of relief. Not his best cover ever, but it would do. He sat back in his chair and awaited her answer.

[Melisil]

"You're..." Eruisto began, "You're, uh, from... You're staying here at least overnight, then?"

"Yes." Melisil replied. Then for a moment she didn't say anything, but looked at him in a way quizingly, but yet still curiously. "Yes, I'm staying here at least untill tommorow. I wouldn't mind staying a bit longer though." she thought for a moment, staring at her half-full mug, wondering whether to ask how long he would be staying. She took a drink, then looked back to him. "Have you had dinner yet?" Melisil asked, changing the subject slightly, but mostly she was just getting a bit hungry.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 10:50 PM December 22, 2003: Message edited by: Melisil ]

[Nerindel]

Lúrëaelda

Lúrëaelda saw Cree sway and caught her as she fell, "What's wrong with her!" Durin cried. "I am not sure?" he whispered "But we should give her room. Together they gently lifted Cree into a nearby chair. As they did a cheer rose in the room.

"To the happy couple!" he looked up briefly to see a throng of people, elves, men and hobbits alike toasting his mother and his soon to be stepfather, he smiled warmly, then turned back to Cree.

She had told him that she was bonded to the crow in some way, perhaps the same as he was to Draug, Cree was older than him. 'is this the fate that awaits me also?' he wondered 'will what ever was done to me try to take over?' he looked up again to his parents and he saw Aman standing next to them.

"No!" he whispered determinedly seeing their smiling faces "I will not let it, I will never hurt those I love and I do not believe this elf would either."

Cree was right it would catch up to him eventually, but as he looked at the happy couple it pained him, how could he tell his mother he was leaving, just when she found happiness. But he smiled as he remembered the words of Celeborn when he had argued that he could not leave her, 'She will understand, she always has'. with that thought he resolved himself to leave on the morn.

Taking a small round tin from his pocket he opened it and waved it gently under her nose, "What is that?" the dwarf asked suspiciously, "Just smelling salts" he answered as Cree began to stir.

"I am Journeying to Rhosgobel on the morn, come with me Perhaps together we can find the answers we seek?" he asked helping her up.

As he waited for her answer, he planned to speak with Aman, he knew that she could help them with supplies but that was not his reason for wishing to speak to her. There was something between them he could feel it, and his mother saw it also and although he understood why she did not approve he could not go without first speaking to the young Rohirrim woman.

"You should never give up hope we may yet find your father!" he whispered Sensing the elf's hesitation.

[The Perky Ent]

The thought of Hamfast having dinner with Ruby Brown felt like a splinter. But nevertheless the best, and most enjoyable splinter he had ever had. Hamfast felt like butter scraped over too much bread. Each minute was an eternity...and then some.

With his friend Eruisto gone, and finaly stuffed from eating all day, Hamfast left the Inn for some fresh air. It felt so great. There was a breaze that brushed his hair with the utmost comfort. Hamfast saw shiriff Halfred on his horse, Dumpling. Hamfast had met Halfred before, but not on so happy an event. Apparently some fool had stole food from the Green Dragon Inn and the sheriff questioned everyone.

Funny thing is...the description of the theif matched Hamfast. It was very embarrasing. But not as embarrasing as his dinner date with Ruby. Panacking quickly, a million thoughs passed through Hamfast's mind, as he realized he wasn't prepared. The first thought being a giant stain on his shirt, Hamfast ran into the Inn, said hi to Aman, and dashed up to his room, where he'd change and prepare for dinner, which was in 3 hours.

[Kitanna]

"Any news of Rohan is well appreciated. I thank you for that." Kitanna took another sip of her ale.

She took a moment before answering the proposal for a walk. "As for a walk, I would love too. I've never been here so I'm leaving it up to you not to get us lost."

[Eothed]

Éothed sighed deeply again. He looked around and felt lonely. There were so much noise and different sounds in the little Inn. Éothed rised from his chair and walked to the bar to order another ale. He sat down again and started to drink.

Éothed thought it would be nice if some of the native people around here could talk to him. He had a lot of questions on his mind. Éothed looked around himself, but everyone seemed busy.

[Arothir]

The elf went and got another drink. He sat down. Looking over, he saw some hobbits drinking merrily. One came over and asked the elf to join them. He walked over, fingers on his sword.

"So," the hobbit said, "who are you? What brings you here?" The elf pulled back his red hood, revealing short, black hair. He had large, black eyes. Then he spoke, "My name is Taurnil. I come from the Wood of Green Leaves. I fought against Dol Guldur in the War of the Ring. I was on my way to Mithlond, so that I might sail to Valinor and join my kin. But now I think I might stay in Middle-earth a while longer."

The hobbits stared at Taurnil's sword. "So," said Taurnil, "Like it do you? It is called Glorthang, the Gold Iron. It is an old heirloom of my family, the House of Guilin, a noble Noldorin house. My father gave it to me the day he left for the havens."

Taurnil stares into space, recalling his father, a Noldorin lord, and his mother a Silvan elf. He shivers, though he is wearing a cloak, as he thinks of days past.

[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman turned away from the small crowd as Cree stirred and her eyelids flickered slowly open as Lúrëaelda held her gently, a look of concern and worry on his face. But as his eyes flickered and his face set into an expression of determination, Aman became sure it was not just for Cree he was worried.

Aman served a wary looking, cloaked elf a drink and he introduced himself, after a moment, as Taurnil of Eryn Lasgalen. He didn't seem to keen to talk just then but, after a few minutes and a drink of ale, he stood, gathering his nerve and approaching a group of hobbits, introducing himself. The Innkeeper nodded approvingly - it was always good to see people reaching out, especially to the Shire folk. Made them feel less overrun.

Looking down, the Innkeeper saw a long, soulful face looking up at her from thigh height. Raising her eyebrows, she regarded the hairy face for a moment, then slipped out to retrieve the dirty plates from around the room. When she came back, Taurin was deep in polite conversation and the yellow eyes were still watching her, from ground level this time. Taking a half eaten piece of toast, unbuttered, from one of the plates, the Innkeeper held it questioningly. Draug's ears perked up and he raised his head off his paws. Half-perching on a stool, Aman let the wolf take the toast from her hand this time, resting his paws lightly on her knees as he reached forward with his teeth. Aman thought of how many animals must have been killed by those jaws, but found herself not in the slightest perturbed - the wolf was as gentle now as Lúrëaelda - and as strange.

Standing to leave the wolf with his toast, the Innkeeper turned to find herself looking straight up into Lúrëaelda's face only a few inches from hers. Smiling after her initial confusion, the Innkeeper stepped back slightly to give him more room.

"I wished to speak with you..." he started, softly.

[Arothir]

Taurnil was deep in conversation with the hobbits. After telling of himself, the hobbits had begun telling Taurnil news of the Shire. Normally Taurnil didn't like this kind of idle talk, but after his long journey to Bywater, he didn't mind.

One of the hobbits asked him, "So friend, how was your journey here? Didn't have trouble or nothing, did you?"

Taurnil replied, "As a matter of fact, yes. I met a band of Easterlings a few miles outside Archet. No idea how any Easterlings got there. Of course," he smiled, "they didn't know that they were attacking a hardened Elf warrior. I slew their leader, raised my sword, and they all fled."

"That sounds must unpleasant," the hobbit said. Taurnil laughed, "Well friend, would you have had them kill me? By the way, what is your name?"

The hobbit said, "My name is Blongo Baggins." The other two hobbits introduced themselves as Tolman Took and Vallavo Baggins.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 8:48 PM December 23, 2003: Message edited by: Arothir ]

[Melisil]

Melisil asked one of the barmaids for some dinner as she waited for his reply.

As she waited for her dinner to be ready, she looked to her other side and saw a man who looked very sadly lonely. "Hello there. Come, move closer so you may have dinner with myself and Eruisto here." she said to him, "My name is Melisil, and yours?" she said to the man whom she would later call Éothed.

[Arothir]

Taurnil got up from the table to get some dinner. He passed a lonely man with long darkbrown hair sitting by Melisil. Taurnil had seen her introduce herself to the man, but he had not responded.

"Hello," said Taurnil, "You look rather lonely. Would you like someone to talk to. You can come to my table if you want. I'm Taurnil of Eryn Lasgalen. Who are you?"

The man was silent for a second, but then he responded. "I am Eothed of the Rohirrim."

Taurnil said, "Pleasure meeting you. You're welcome to join my table."

[Caoimhin]

Caoimhin sat by the fireplace, his eyes closed yet restless. Not answering the young woman was insulting and dishonorable enough, but now he was beginning to wonder how long he would go before he let his story of shame slip out. He knew in his heart that he would not be able to keep his cover for long, for the patron of the Inn seemed to long to probe for answers from anyone or anything that entered, as he was noticing. Sooner or later, he would have to tell the truth, unless he left now.

But something kept him there. There was a feeling of longing, and wanting to tell his story. Though he would never do so on his own, surely someone would be able to provoke him enough to tell it.

That would have to wait, though, as Caoimhin's eyes became less restless, and he dozed off in the chair by the fire, with his hood over his eyes and his chair on a tilt against the wall. Any telling of stories would have to wait until later...

[HaldirHD]

Earendur Seregon looked down the misted road of Bree. He spurred his horse forward and saw a waver of candle light and heard the faint sound of laughter coming from the direction. He galloped forward and saw a small in with a sign hanging over the door reading "Green Dragon". He went a little further and dismonted from his steed and handed the reigns to the stablemen and handed them a few coins to pay for his horses lodging and accomidations. He pulled the hood of his cloak down as he enter the inn. He enter the door and was greeted with a wave of smells of fresh bread and good ale. The place seems cherrie enough he thought with a smile to himself.

He walked into the inn and sat himself at a small table and surveyed the small inn. It was of course filled with hobbits. There were a good many eating and a few appeared drunk. He again chuckled to himself and hailed the serving maid. He ordered himself a pint of ale and sat back and relaxed to watch to goings and comings of the quaint inn.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 2:35 PM December 24, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Eothed]

"Thank you, master elf.", Éothed said and bowed. Éothed sat down and said;"So your an elf?" Taurnil nodded and looked at Éothed.

"So what brings you here, Taurnil?", Éothed said and drank a little of his ale. He was excited and waited for Taurnils answer.

[Arothir]

"So what brings you here, Taurnil?" asked Eothed. He had just sat down with Taurnil and the hobbits.

Taurnil began. "I come from Eryn Lasgalen. In the year 3015 of the Third Age my parents left for the Grey Havens because of the threat of the Enemy. I stayed, for I wanted to defend the forest against any evil. But some years after the war I grew weary. Finally I decided to go to the Havens, which is why I am here. But I think that I might stay in Middle-earth a while longer, to learn of the Shire."

[Phervasaion]

Phervásaion laughed and said "If I get lost in the Shire then I’m getting so old my memories going. I know the lands well as I have travelled here many times in my life. I think we could go to Bywater, or maybe the woods of Buckland."

Phervásaion looked across the room and saw a man dressed in Rohirrim clothes and he had long dark brown hair. Éothed was his name. "That man over there, the one talking the Elf. He looks like one of your own kin before you left and went into the wild. Maybe later we could go over and speak to him, after he’s finished speaking with the people he’s with. He would probably know more about what’s going on in Rohan than I would," said Phervásaion while looking at Éothed.

"Anyway, do you like it in Rohan Kitanna?… or do you like to travel around a lot. I love Travelling. I’ve been to many places in my life, Minas Tirith in Gondor and to Edoras in Rohan. I personally like travelling in the woods, mainly because I grew up in them with my father."

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 3:18 PM December 24, 2003: Message edited by: Phervasaion ]

[Eothed]

Éothed nodded and said;"Very wise." Éothed looked at the hobbits that sat around him Taurnil. "Myself, I do not know how long I am going to stay" Éothed continued with a more quite voice.

It got very quite around the table and Taurnil finally opened his mouth and said;"Well..." Éothed looked at him and waited.

[Arothir]

"Well," Taurnil started. He looked around the Inn. His table was fairly quiet, but all around he could hear many conversations. The hobbit called Vallavo Baggins spoke up.

"Excuse me sirs, but me, Tolman, and Blongo are going for a walk. All this talk of leaving Middle-earth and whatnot is beyond me."

"Suit yourself," said Taurnil. The three hobbits got up and left. Taurnil started again, "Well, Middle-earth sure is nice and all, which is why I want to stay. Yet every year more and more Elves leave. I feel torn in two..." He looked around at all the people enjoying themselves. Taurnil had always been a loner, so he had never felt welcome in these places. He was glad to have found a friend, and he smiled. He hailed a barmaid and got some more drinks. He took a sip from his cup, now enjoying himself. He turned back to Eothed.

"So Eothed, your name shows you to be a Rohir. What brings you here?" He waited for Eothed's answer.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 4:48 PM December 24, 2003: Message edited by: Arothir ]

[Imladris]

I sat numb after Iris's announcement to go to post office had assailed my ears, afterwich she had left in a might storm leaving me brimming with curiosity. I racked my brains trying to find the reason while Elentari sat quietly, thankfully not saying anything. Could Iris be sending a letter back home, telling her family not to worry about her? I paused as the suggestion, but then shook my head and threw it away: Iris didn't seem to be the caring sort of person. She had seemed annoyed about going, but that didn't really give any clues because she was annoyed about everything , and she was extremely terse about it, but that was nothing new either. A poisoned thought entered my mind, a malign whisper: she betrayed my secret once before, what if she would do it again and betray my refuge in this Inn to my trollish relatives. "That little orc!" I snapped, drumming my fingers violently on the table.

"What?" asked Elentari in surprise.

But then again, I could be wrong and she did seem to like me a little bit when I first met her. "Oh nothing," I muttered, stopping my drumming and reverting to a nervous jitter. "How is it outside, fair elf friend?" Inside was so...stuffy and caged, I thought.

"It is warm outside and the sun shines down from a clear sky. A soft wind rustles the branches of a nearby oak, squirrels are chattering and scamper among the leaves chasing acorns."

Her voice seemed to smile, and I grinned back. "Take me outside, please."

"Alright," she said gently, as I heard her slide her chair back, the legs skidding raucously across the wooden planks of the floor. I could feel the floor tremble beneath my bare feet, I could feel flutter cross the wood toward me and I could only guess that it was the light-footed Elentari.

With her gentle hands, she guided me out the door. The wind caught my hair and blew it into a brown cloud behind my head...I could feel his hands mold it into a flowing horse's mane behind my head. I smiled broadly and wondered what shapes he was sculpting with Elentari's hair. But he soon went away to chase the birds and smiles behind some other hill, I suppose.

"We're beside the tree," Elentari said softly.

Outstretching my hand, my fingers brushed the jagged barck. I traced the oak's deep ravines that scarred his surface. Standing on tiptoe, my hand encountered a jutting limp. Freeing my other arm from Elentari's clasp, I enrapped it about the limb and then curled my legs to my chest and swung softly, ignoring my protesting limbs that slowly pricked with sleep. I flashed a grin down to where I hope Elentari had stayed.

"You could probably climb the tree," she suggested.

Of course she didn't bother to tell me how to do it, but, after I pondered the logic of it, I realized that the way to climb a tree didn't change with one's eyesight.

I dropped my legs and heaved with my arms, my chin collided with the branch and my hands slipped a little bit, but I didn't fall. I lugged my leg upon the tree and slid my whole body onto the branch.

I rested upon the tree, much like a cat would. I smiled happily and felt Elentari spring beside me. A breeze tiptoed to us, whispering that life was good.

[randomhobbit42]

"Ah, the Green Dragon," I said as a smileappeared on my face. That old place was full of memory and good laughs- not to mention the ale! Growing up in a house around the corner of the "Dragon" was an easy life. I never did anything unexpected or had any excitement in my life back then.

Things sure have changed since my long journey. My hobbit-sense returned from my straying thoughts of swords and shields and i sat down at the table and hailed the maiden for a pint of ale.
"It's good to be home."

[Orual]

Eruisto glanced at Taurnil and Éothed, and raised his eyebrows. "Nice intercept," he commented, turning back to Melisil. He couldn't tell whether or not she was offended, but he decided not to make a big deal out of it. Best let sleeping dogs lie.

There was a low hum of conversation that hung over the common room like a fog, but there was something warm and home-like about it. Eruisto was used to cold silences and colder welcomes, but even the chilly morning had seemed warmer than many summer days he'd spent in other towns. He ran a hand along the worn wooden table, and felt in it the caresses of countless other hands. Everything in this Inn seemed old and loved to him, like heirlooms or hand-me-downs. Then again, maybe it was just the air of the Shire. This place seemed like it was full of history.

Full of history. He looked at Melisil. Her twilight eyes, full of the wisdom and quiet energy of her people, were trained on him, waiting for him to say something. "Melisil," he began, "I'd like to ask you something. I hope you don't find it rude." He paused a moment. "M'lady, I've never actually met an elf before. I love stories, and...I, well, I was wondering if you would mind telling me where you were from. I'm from Gondor, and though I passed in the general vicinity of Lothlorién and Rivendell, I couldn't see them. Could you tell me about your land?" Afraid he had said too much, he stopped and sat back in his chair.

[Everdawn]

Sírabel and Lanus


Kitanna left to speak with the other ranger. “You scared her away” laughed Lanus. Sírabel did not look impressed. “Well, I should still like to hear of you tale, if you would tell it.”

Sírabel sat up straight in her chair. She had never recalled the tales of the rangers before, not even to Lanus. She paused deep in thought before beginning.

“Well, Our meeting was brief, I made friends with one in an Inn outside of Minas Tirith, and he said that he was there visiting the King Elessar, (because people say that he used to be one of them you know) so we got talking and I found that he was riding north. Now, I was quite tired of walking until the blisters on my feet bled, Hamirdan was his name, he offered my a place on his horse. We reached, where was it? Oh yes. Minhiriath and there we camped with the other rangers who had come -and dear Eru I could have died! We were attacked by wildmen. You know me, im not a fighter, I was set atop of Hamirdan’s horse and told that if something went wrong I was to ride as fast as I could. Well there was no need of course- they are rangers after all.’

She stopped and glanced at her audience of two, and smiled. “We got to Bree and they went the other way, they said I might like it here, and I suppose they were right.”

Lanus clapped “Well done You Ladyship! You got on a horse and saved yourself!” in one swift movement Sírabel hit him on the back of the head.

“What was that for!” he cried.

“Being sarcastic.” Sírabel added. “At least its more interesting than the five sisters who were all called the same thing!” she crossed her arms and waited for her cake.

[Will Witfoot]

Fungrim had sat at his table, immobile and alone for two square hours now. Only occasionally did he stir to take a gulp from his flagon or a breath from his pipe. He sat there, immobile and ignored like an aged statue. Only the occasional furtive glance from a local disspeled the feeling of invisibility.

He turned his head to search for the barmaid, and his gaze locked with two brown eyes regarding him with a mild curiosity. At his glance, however, the eyes owner turned hurriedly back to his flagon. His table got quieter by a notch almost instantly.
He cursed his ill luck. There had been a chance for company, but one look from him had ruined everything. His stern looks and the large axe leaning to the table propably disscouraged most of the locals.

He got up and stomped moodily to the bar-table, passing a curious looking elf in red talking to a man whom Fungrim judged was from Rohan by his accent and armour and clothes. If only he didnt feel so alien making contact with strangers. The years spent in the wilds had burned out most of his sociable skills.

He stomped to the bar and proped his axe against the counter. "An ale, please." He said tossing a few coins on the bar.

[Eothed]

Éothed orderd some meat and another ale. He turned to Taurnil and said;"My father died when I was just a child. When I grew up I left my mother and my little sister and served King Éomer. Now after a few years of serving him, he released me from my services. Now I am exploring Middle-Earth. I have never been out of Rohan before.

Taurnil nodded. Éothed got his meat and ale and started eating. He had not eaten anything since breakfast."How long are you going to stay?" Éothed asked and waited for Taurnils answer.

[Kitanna]

Kitanna looked over to Eothed. "Perhaps I will have a few words with him later on." She turned her attention to the outside world for a moment. The couds were breaking away. "Perfect day for a walk."

Phervásaion nodded, "Which is naturally why I suggested it."

Kitanna smiled and looked back at Phervásaion. "As for your question about Rohan. I love Rohan more than anyone or anything. It is my home and nothing will ever change that. Though I must admit there's a special place in my heart for the wild." She sighed and thought her home.

Often had she wished to return to Rohan. To be amoung the horselords once more. To be riding alongside her kin. But for her it seemed true that you truly can never go home. She looked over to Eothed, he swatted his long brown hair from his eyes. Later, when he was less busy she would ask him of Rohan. Kitanna would learn of the current affairs of her home.

[Witch_Queen]

Cree looked up to see eyes on her. "Why not. Sure I'll go with you. When do we leave."
Cree looked around to see that happiness had spread throughout the inn.

"Whats going on?" Cree wasn't sure what had happened when she fell. "Oh hello Aman." Cree looked to see that the two had locked eyes. Indeed there is something between them.

[The Perky Ent]

The day grew warm. Hamfast put on his best vest in his room, watching clouds roam the endless sea of the sky. Staring at the clouds like a boy, Hamfast pondered the shapes of the celestial marshmellows, recognising one of them as a muffin. Hamfast's stomach was, well, a bottom-less pit. Hamfast was not fat, however, as he used tons of energy on other things. Feeling like his tummy had become a black hole, Hamfast wondered down to get some food.

Feeling Eruisto wouldn't cross Hamfast's path for a while, as he seamed like a man who couldn't lose a bet, Hamfast scanned the Green Dragon for possible company. A man with as flagon seemed loansome. He looked shaggy like he had been living off the edge of the Shire, alone in a dark exsistance.

Hamfast walked over to the man stealthly. A voice in Hamfast's mind told him that he shouldn't interact with this man. But the way Hamfast saw it was that he could either meet the fellow and have some food, or sit over to a sable closer to the action...and see Ruby Brown. Hamfast's answer was almost instant. He walked over to the man.

"D'you mind if I sit here?" Hamfast said to the man. The man appeared to have been waking up. If he got no reply, Hamfast would sneak over to the kitchen and leave him. In an instant the man's groggy face turned to a smile.

"Not at all! I'm Fungrim! Please eat!" said the man. And Hamfast and Fungrim chatted about many things and enjoyed their day.

[Pyroclastic]

Romenna twisted the knife subtly as she guided it along the piece of ash wood in her other hand. The sun smiled down upon her work. The air was fresh, smelling as it only did after the rain. She was seated on a bench outside the Green Dragon, enjoying the light of day.
"A knife hilt. What a curious thing for a woman to carve."

Romenna looked up from her carving. It took several seconds for her eyes to refocus after concentrating solely on her work for so long. A young Gondorian man stood before her, apparently on his way into the Green Dragon.
""Indeed, it would seem so. What woman would understand the balance needed for such a thing, unless she herself had great skill at the handling of them?"
She gave him a long and measured look. Swift as a chill, she drew a knife from the sheath on the small of her back and flung it to his left side. With a Thowock! The knife embedded itself into the pony hitching post behind him.

The young man looked at Romenna, then went and retrieved her knife. With a bow, he presented it to her.
"I am Delleth, a soldier of Gondor. Such skill undoubtedly has a story. Will you suffer me to buy you a drink, in exchange for a tale?"

"Indeed I will, Master Delleth," she replied, "Countrymen should always honor each other, especially so far from home."
Romenna accepted her knife from Delleth's outstretched hand, and together they entered The Green Dragon.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 12:39 AM December 27, 2003: Message edited by: Pyroclastic ]

[ElentariGreenleaf]

A cool breeze made the leaves rustle around Elentari and Finduilas. The elf was happier than she had been in a long while, and longed to help any mortal she could. Iris, Finduilas’ friend from Bree, seemed to hide away from Finduilas while Elentari was in her company, and this made the elf think. Perhaps Iris was jealous of Finduilas’ new friendship, especially as Elentari was of the elven race. Yet Elentari could only think that Iris was the cause of the ill feelings in her mortal heart. She had driven Finduilas away by revealing her secret. Still, Elentari could not think ill of Iris, for she had seen much worse in people. Betrayal was often a word that sprung into Elentari’s mind at the mention of the race of Men. At least, that used to be how she thought, as a young Elf. But Elentari had since met many mortals, fought beside them… Even…

“I can hear a bird nearby,” said Finduilas unexpectedly. “Is it as beautiful as the song it sings?”

“Yes,” said Elentari laughing. She reached forward and held her hand out to the bird. It stepped onto her hand without even a questioning glance. “Hold out your hand, Finduilas.” Elentari brought her hand next to the girl’s, and whispered a few words to the bird in Elvish. It hopped onto Finduilas’ finger and began to sing again. A smile spread across Finduilas’ face and her unseeing eyes sparkled with delight.

“What does it sing about?” asked the Gondorian girl.

“She sings of love,” said Elentari, “the love that she has for her mate.” The song was so beautiful, that it even touched the heart of the elf. She remembered a song that she had heard once, and sung it in her clear and beautiful elvish voice.

“O Orofarnë, Lassemista, Carnimírië!
O rowan fair, upon your hair how white the blossom lay!
O rowan mine, I saw you shine upon a summer’s day,
Your rind so bright, your leaves so light, your voice so cool and soft:
Upon your head how golden-red the crown you bore aloft!
O rowan dead, upon your head your hair is dry and grey;
Your crown is spilled, your voice is stilled for ever and a day.
O Orofarnë, Lassemista, Carnimírië!”

“What a wonderful song,” said Finduilas. “It sounds to me as if it were written by a tree.” She paused, her cheeks becoming rosy-red. “You must think I’m stupid, saying something like that.”

“My young friend,” said Elentari kindly. “Why would I think of you of stupid for saying the truth?”

Finduilas’ blind eyes gazed in the direction of Elentari’s voice. “It cannot be! How could a tree write?”

“Not a tree,” Elentari laughed, “but a very tree-like creature known as an Ent! I have never met one, but they are an ancient race who dwell in Fangorn Forest.”

“I do not know anything about Ents,” said Finduilas.

“Then I shall teach you!” And so Elentari told Finduilas all she knew of the Ents, which she had mostly learned while she had dwelled in Rivendell.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 10:51 AM December 27, 2003: Message edited by: ElentariGreenleaf ]

[Melisil]

Eruisto looked at Melisil, "I, well, I was wondering if you would mind telling me where you were from. I'm from Gondor, and though I passed in the general vicinity of Lothlorién and Rivendell, I couldn't see them. Could you tell me about your land?"

Melisil replied, "Certainly; And I am not offended. I am from the forest Mirkwood, now Eryn Lasgalen. My people have lived there for many years. For a while we were not there though, around the time of the ring war. Now, we have taken it back.

"I live with my family there, and we in turn live with other families. Many of my kind are leaving for the Grey Havens every day as you most probably know already." She paused, looked down at the table for a moment, thinking, then continued, talking slightly slower, "My family will probably not go there for a while... but they will still go... slowly." She continued, looking up again,

"For the last year I have been wandering Middle Earth. I stoped back at Eryn Lasgalen to see my family. After I left they gave me a letter to deliver to a Hobbit here in the Shire. I've delivered it now, and am unsure what I will be doing next." Melisil finished. She sat up straighter, her mind seemingly not in the bar anymore.

[Gird]

Gird entered the inn, and looked about himself. He noticed, of course, a lot of hobbits, and also something that made him wonder, why are almost all of the elves and men wearing hoods and cloaks?

He looked up, and noticing a hood, realized that he himself was wearing a hooded cloak. He pulled it off quickly and threw it onto the floor in disgust. He hated being like everyone else.

He was the rebel fish in life. Swimming against the current, taking the hard route on purpose. This hadn't always been the greatest for him, as he made lots of mistakes.

But he was one, that could not be taught easily to change. He was the kind that learned only from mistakes he made himself. And, since he didn't take much advice from others, these mistakes happened often.

Indeed, he had learned alot.

[Amanaduial the archer]

Lurealda was distracted just as he was about to speak to Aman by Cree, who was once more looking dangerously queasy, as if she was about to collapse again. His keen grey eyes watched the woman, darting from her face to her crow. Aman rolled her eyes and turned with a smile to the gentleman who was approaching the bar. He suddenly paused, looked around and...flung his cloak to the floor. As an afterthought, he stamped on it.

Aman regarded him sidelong as he approached the bar (it is a talent barkeepers and Innkeepers everywhere have of being to view sidelong at customers whilst, for all the evidence, looking straight at them. He caught her gaze and smiled back, then frowned as a thought seemed to strike him. Bearing in mind what had happened last time a thought seemed to strike him like that, Aman intervened with his thoughts quickly.

"Good day, sir, and welcome to the Dragon - can I get you anything?"

[Gird]

Gird looked up once more to see the smiling face of the innkeeper. "Oh, hullo, good day to you too." he replied,"hmm, could I please get a pint of warm milk?" "Oh, ok, of course" she said, with somewhat of a curious look on her face.

He walked over to the bar and took a seat on a bar stool. He absent-mindedly dropped some coins on the bar, unaware of the actual price of his drink.

Gird spun around on his stool and looked around the room some more. He looked at some hobbits drinking and having a merry time. It was then that he saw their feet. They were furry!

Until then, he had only heard stories of their feet, and he could scarcely imagine how incredibly furry they were. He stared at them, thinking to himself about if they just let the foot hair grow, would it get longer and longer, and would you be able to knit a permanent pair of socks with their own hair? Or other thoughts, such as 'are hobbits born with hairy feet?' or 'do the women have hairy feet too?' and finally the most ridiculous, 'I wonder if when a hobbit gets old and bald, does he make a wig out of his foot hair and wear it on his head?'

And on he thought...

[piosenniel]

Green Dragon Inn Facts:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Other ongoing characters in the Inn:

Ruby Brown, Hobbit – not married – server and maid

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

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

Ongoing characters from outside the Inn:

Halfred Whitfoot – local Shiriff and Postmaster; his pony’s name is Dumpling.
_____________________________________________
Please Note:

No 'SAVES' are allowed in the Inn.

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

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

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

_____________________________________________


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

_____________________________________________

It is now afternoon in the Shire.

The clouds have blown away, and the day has grown warm.

[piosenniel]

I want to remind Inn patrons of one of the Shire rules from The Red Book of Westmarch:

Short chat-style posts which encourage other players to post in a chatty style are also not allowed.

Be descriptive, and try not to use a lot of dialog.

Communication between players in the Inn is welcomed, but please try to enhance it with some descriptive writing. This is not a television show or a movie where we can see your character and the environment they are in. You need to provide that for us - not just the dialog of the scene.

Thanks!

~*~ Piosenniel, Shire Moderator

[piosenniel]

Camlost, the crow

Hopping quietly on his one leg, Camlost squeezed himself further into the shadows. The light from the lamp above the bar caught the bird’s glittering eye as he surveyed the people in the Common Room. There was a Hobbit just come down from his room wearing a very fine vest. The buttons glittered as they caught the light, catching the crow’s attention. How he would love to have one for his little ‘collection’! Not possible now though – the Hobbit went to sit with another man, a dangerous looking fellow with an axe by his side. Perhaps later, if the Hobbit left his room window open, he would see about ‘borrowing’ a button.

There were Elves about, too. Too risky to try to get anything from them. Far too observant they were, with their grey eyes. Always poking about in other creatures’ business. Though there was one – the female from Eryn Lasgalen. The hem of her cloak was picked out in silver threads. ‘If she hangs it somewhere, perhaps I can pull a few without her noticing,’ murmured Camlost to himself.

Thoughts of pretty glittering baubles were pushed away as the bird took note of the table with the man and woman from the Riddermark. Hpw could he tell? They had the smell of horses about them and their hands and fingers as they gestured, he noted, were rough with calluses from years of contact with the leather reins and leads. One of them, the man with the long brown hair, had ordered meat and ale. Engrossed in conversation with another man, they had pushed their plates and mugs to one side, setting the platter of meat and roast potato up on the broad windowsill.

If only there were a diversion!

On cue, the door to the Inn flew open and a man walked in. Threw his cloak on the floor, stamped on it, then ordered a pint of warm milk. Needless to say, eyes turned to the curious fellow. Seeing his opportunity, Camlost glided down to the platter on the sill, landing squarely on a large cutlet of venison.

Prize in claw, he flapped his wings hard and flew quickly up to the crossbeam above the bar, dripping juices and gravy on the unsuspecting heads of a few patrons. Squeezing back into the shadows with his first course, he stabbed at the meat, tearing off good sized chunks.

Drink would be needed next, he thought to himself. His head turned from side to side, looking for a likely source . . .

[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman raised an eyebrow inwardly, but shrugged, nodding. "Of course." You certainly did get all sorts in the Green Dragon, but this fellow...

Turning to where she kept the coffee, tea and warm milk for hot chocolate behind the bar, Aman pulled out a mug for the customer whilst he stared absent-mindedly around the Common Room - both completely unaware of the rush of wings and the delighted and victorious crow as he flew away.

Aman excused herself from the man as she left the mug in front of him, not noticing the coins immediately, as she popped her head in to check lunch was organised - it took a good two hours to do venison really nicely when it was slow cooked in Vinca's oven. Not Vinca's at the moment, Aman thought with a sigh. And after Aman and Serilda had talked it over, the little hobbit lass had eventually parted to work for 'Cousin Adalia', with a promise to write to the Innkeeper or send her a message at some point telling how it was going. Two cooks gone in the space of a week...

Still, no matter, Buttercup had mentioned a sister with a good hand for cooking... at the moment, Ruby was doing her best, and her best was more than the hobbit-lass gave herself credit for. Aman was greeted by a hiss of boiling metal meeting water and withdrew her head hastily, calling quietly through the kitchen door, "Lunch is coming, Ruby?"

"Aye, Aman, aye," came the slightly distracted reply followed by a string of orders to someone else evidently pulled into the kitchen. Aman nodded, satisfied, then turned back to Gird, her eyes falling on the coins, a glimmering pile of gold, lying by their owners arm as if they amounted to but a few pennies...and her eyebrows shot up. He could pay for half the Inn to have a drink with that little lot! Clearing her throat politely, Aman took two coins from the pile and pushed the rest over to Gird - something you could say for the Rohirric Innkeeper was that she was honest.

"Sir, I think you may have misjudged the drink a little," she murmured, grinning.

[Niluial]

Niluial walked into the Inn and nervously looked around. She took off her silk, black cape and hung it on the coat hanger. Niluial straitened out her dress and looked around. She spotted an empty table in a corner and walked quietly there. She didn’t want to draw much a attention or make people socialize with her. Niluial sat on a chair and tucked her long black hair behind her ear. She watched the people in the Inn doing there own things and was happy to see that no one was looking at her or even noticed her. She looked out the window just to make sure he wasn’t close or on her tail, that is all she needed.

What if he was to find me here? I couldn’t go back. He better not find me but he was following my trail. I wonder if… Niluial’s deep thoughts were distracted by the sudden movement in her pocket. “Silma!” Niluial gasped. She reached into her pocket and took out a small black kitten with piercing blue eyes. She loved her kitten dearly but had completely forgotten about Silma in her side pocket through out the whole days journey. But Silma was content and had slept all the way. Niluial laughed and Silma started to purr.

Niluial sat with Silma in the corner and watched the door. She eyed out every person to make sure he didn’t enter.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 1:17 PM December 28, 2003: Message edited by: Niluial ]

[Phervasaion]

Phervásaion stopped and thought for a moment about how long he should stop at the inn. "Ah," he said. "I’ve just remembered I have not booked my room for the night yet. Excuse me for a moment Kitanna while I just speak to the innkeeper for a while."

He got up and made his way too the bar. Aman was busy dealing with customers and taking food and drink orders but, he saw Ruby the maid on her break. Phervásaion walked up to her and said "Excuse me madam, sorry to disturb you on your break but I wondered if I could book a room for the night. I would ask Aman but she looks busy serving other customers at the moment."

"Of course," Ruby replied. "To be honest my break has just finished but I was just finishing my drink off quickly before I started again." Phervásaion gave her the money and his name and Ruby handed him the key to his room. "Enjoy your stay at the Green Dragon," she said as she gave Phervásaion the keys. He thanked her and went back to his table.

"Sorry," he said to Kitanna. "But I need to take my bags and things up to my room and unpack."

"It’s okay. I’ll wait down here for you and then we may go for our walk if you wish," she replied as he grabbed his bags and sword.

"Yes that would be good. Maybe, while I’m gone you can talk to the man from Rohan over there," Phervásaion pointed towards Éothed. "I’ll be back down in about half an hour," he said as he made his way to the stairs. He climbed up them in his shabby old boots carrying what little supplies he had with him and came too his room. He unlocked the door and opened it. "Hmm, nice and cosy," Phervásaion whispered to himself. He put his bags on his bed and threw his clothes and supplies in the draws not caring really for neatness. They were already old and worn anyway.

[Pyroclastic]

Romenna bid her new friend Delleth fair skies and a good evening, and watched him leave the Inn. She had not realized how much she missed pleasant conversation.
"A traveling partner," she thought to herself, "how nice it would be to have someone to journey with, once again." Romenna looked around the Inn, if ever there was a place to find such a mate, this would be it.

There was the strange man at the bar, the one who had stomped on his own cloak. Not Romenna's idea of the ideal companion. Every table seemed to host a group of friends this afternoon, and Romenna was not likely to barge in on an entire group. She listened as one collective or another recounted old stories and made plans for travels. The door opened, and a woman with long, black hair entered the Inn. She cast a furtive glance about the Inn, then removed a beautifully flowing black cape and hung it on a peg. The lady seated herself at a quiet corner table in the back. She appeared to be keeping a vigilant watch for an unwelcome someone. Romenna sipped the final contents of her ale and observed the woman. She was shy, certainly. The lady softy petted the kitten she had drawn from her pocket. Her demeanor spoke of fear, and her build and movement did not suggest any capability for self defense. Romenna’s lips thinned as she watched the lady, nothing angered her more than attacks upon the defenseless. Perhaps it wasn’t Romenna who was in need of a traveling companion.

Romenna ordered two cups of tea, and as a second thought ask for a bowl of milk as well from the Hobbit lass behind the bar. Romenna brought them over to the mysterious lady’s table.
"My lady, I am Romenna of the realm of Gondor. Might I trouble you to have tea with a fellow traveling woman?"

[Niluial]

Niluial sat playing with a piece of her black hair. She could feel someone’s eyes on her, but wasn’t too sure who it was. She looked around the room but could see no one looking at her or her dear kitten. Every table was crowded with chattering and happy laughter. Niluial looked at Silma and smiled “Don’t worry, we will soon be happy! Once we find someone to protect us or just anyone” Niluial paused and looked around “he won’t find us my dear he won’t!” Silma purred and found her way onto Niluial’s lap.

Niluial travelled back into her deep thoughts and worries. She looked up and saw a woman looking at her and suddenly felt uncomfortable. Niluial turned her head and tried to ignore the woman but couldn’t help wondering why the woman was looking at her.

Niluial watched the woman pick up two cups of tea and a bowl of milk. Niluial was confused, she had not seen anyone with the woman. The woman walked in the direction of where Niluial was sitting. Niluial grew tense and sat up straight. Niluial eyed the woman, she didn’t look suspicious in any way and looked friendly. The woman placed the two cups of tea and milk on the table and said “My lady, I am Romenna of the realm of Gondor. Might I trouble you to have tea with a fellow travelling woman.” Niluial smiled and said “Oh greetings my name is Niluial and of course please take a seat.” The woman pushed the bowl of milk towards Niluial and Niluial smiled and said “Thank you” then looked at Silma and said “look Romenna brought you some milk!” Niluial put the bowl of milk on the floor and Silma jumped off Niluial’s lap and meowed. Silma hadn’t had milk for a few days and was happy to see it once again.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 4:54 PM December 28, 2003: Message edited by: Niluial ]

[Imladris]

Iris of Bree

Iris stormed up the walk to the Green Dragon, fuming curses under her breath at the entire Shire and hobbits in particular. The little things could be so difficult! Whoever would have thought it would have been so much trouble to mail a stupid to Bree! The hobbit had actually tried to cheer her up, as if she needed to be cheered up, she thought with a dark glower as she shoved her way into the Common Room. Couldn’t anybody be slightly out of tune with the world without a beaming hobbit with ruddy cheeks and curly hair and those despicable big hairy feet trying to make you laugh! Why couldn’t anyone leave her alone?

She swayed at the entrance to the Inn, looking for an out of the way corner for her to sulk quietly in. And of course there wasn’t. Why, oh why, couldn’t anything work for her? Since there was not empty table she could shroud with her dark cloak of choler, she began to search for a table that dwelt in a hidden corner and that few people haunted. There was one: a table with a woman of black hair and another woman holding cups with steam curling from the depths in her hands.

Two people…that couldn’t be too bad. Not perfect, but still -- with an irate sigh, Iris tamed her wild pace and merely stomped with an etched frown, disturbed green eyes, and bouncing ruddy curls to the table and slumped into a convenient chair.

The woman with the tea looked surprised and said, “Oh, would you like some tea also?”

Iris closed her eyes and rolled them violently underneath her lids. Another soul offering her kindness. As if she needed kindness. “If I had wanted tea, I would have asked for some myself,” she replied bitingly. Why couldn’t she be invisible and that way no one could bother her with their constant prattle. She considered going back up to Finduilas’ room, but she had holed herself up there for the entire visit anyway. She glanced sharply for an empty table: nothing. So she was stuck with these two: how wonderful.

Finduilas of Gondor

I thought that the ents sounded like wonderful creatures and I told Elentari so. “I never knew of Ents,” I said somewhat soundly. “They sound like fascinating creatures, especially old Fangorn.” Of course, I think that I would have grown impatient with them because of their slow speech, but other than that -- I smiled gently and brushed my lips against the rough bark of the tree.

The tune to that beautiful song was earthish: the perfect thing for a song of trees. I could feel my fingers twitch to pluck it out upon my beloved lyre, but I was blind so how could I do it. Well, by jolly, I would learn how to play again. I shot up from my reclined position upon the limb and rammed my head into a net of living twigs that snatched and clawed at my hair and cried, “Elentari!”

I could hear her giggle behind me and the next instant, her elvin hands were gently un-snagging my hair from the clutches of the mischievous tree. “I need your help, Elentari,” I said as she was busy untying me. “Help me learn to play the lyre again, please. I could learn the position of the strings while you sing the notes. And if I cant find it, you can help me! You do know how to play the lyre, don’t you?”

[Angel_Queen]

Ravon looked up to the two men beside her. "I'm from Eryn Lasgalen. Far from here. I guess you could say I'm too far from home." Ravon began to remember her childhood. She never wanted to leave home. Yet now she had. "I've never been to Rohan. What's it like."

She met the eyes of Lewis. She so wanted to see more of the world. Yet she had a job to do. She's no trouble to anyone. I'll just tell them that she's dead or something.

[Orual]

"Eryn Lasgalen!" Eruisto repeated, listening carefully the words as he said them slowly. As a liar and a manipulator, he was as much a wordsmith as any bard or writer. To him, the name sounded like the late afternoon sun on dark green oak leaves, like mystery and romance, but also like the faint remembrance of a sound drifting away on the wind. He licked his lips, as they were dry; why did he suddenly feel a sense of loss?

He looked again at Melisil, who seemed lost in thought. He felt like a small child next to her, young and foolish, not yet accustomed to the ways of the world. He felt like he was shrinking in his seat until his feet could hang, a foot or more above the floor.

Trying to keep his feet from kicking, he turned back to his drink and raised it to his lips, but did not drink. His mind was full of thought, and questions, but none came to him. He simply sat and let Melisil finish her thinking while he indulged in his own.

[Kitanna]

Kitanna sat for a moment. Wither companion gone for the time she would have to stay out of trouble. She looked around and spotted Eothed. Did he even have news of Rohan? Well, there was one simple way to find out.

Kitanna waltzed through the inn and over to where the man sat. His brown hair fell into eyes. "Excuse me. I was wondering, do you have any news of Rohan?"

[randomhobbit42]

And once again, we enter to see a hobbit sitting and smoking his pipe. Drogo Brandybuck was his name. The name, of which I can tell you, comes from the Baggins genealogy. Drogo was sitting at the table drinking with his friend Bucky. Bucky Billingsworth, that is. A not so respectable hobbit.

They were good friends, as hobbits go. They went through the afternoon smoking and talking of dark things, for that was there profession- treasure hunters. An odd job for people as unadventurous as hobbits.

[SonOfBombadil]

"I've never been to Rohan. What's it like." asked Ravon. Lewis looked up and found himself looking into the eyes of Ravon. He looked at her face, studying it for a second, before looking away. Her elvish beauty had made him feel unworthy of looking into her eyes.

"Ahh yes, Rohan," he started with a sigh, as though he was remembering something he loved much, and missed dearly. He began talking about the wide open fields, the feel of the wind in your face as you ride across them.

Lewis then began to talk about the city of Edoras, and the glorious golden hall of the king Eomer. He then talked about the rebuilding of Helms Deep, which had started just before he had left.

He then sat there for a while deep in thought and memory. He looked up and saw Ravon still looking at him, Eofeng also seemed to be reminiscing about old times.

"Oh, here I go, blabbing on about so much stuff, that you're no longer listening out of interest anymore. Just doing it to be polite." Lewis said with a chuckle, raising his drink to his lips.

[randomhobbit42]

Bucky drank a mouthful of ale and sat his pint on the table. Drogo gave a short puff of his pipe. "So, old friend, what news from the Misties?" asked Drogo in a tone that was as firm and serious as a bull.

"We'll," replied Bucky, "It's a little too early to tell...well, except I did bring back a souvenier..." Bucky pulled from his pocket a small necklace. It was silver with a green gem hanging from it. On the gem were two eagle flying in circles.

"What is that thing? Where did you get it?"

"This, my friend, is the Eaglestone. I found it in one of the many emptied goblin caves."

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 2:11 AM December 29, 2003: Message edited by: randomhobbit42 ]

[Gird]

Gird woke up from his trance and looked at Aman, and then to his pile of coins. "Oh, yes, I guess I did" he said, his mind still returning from the thoughts of hobbit feet. He grabbed the coins and dropped them into his pocket.

He turned to his milk, and took a big long drought. he placed the mug down with a 'clunck!' revealing a large 'milk mustache' on his upper lip. Ahhh, he thought, it's good to have a cozy place like this to drink ones milk.

"Oh!" he suddenly cried, "one more thing, could I get a room for the night?" "Of course" came the reply, Aman seemed releived that that was all he was yelling about. "Okay, you can put it under the name Gird" said Gird. He then had to clearly spell it out, so that it would not be written with an e. It had happened before, and he felt very embarrassed and humiliated when it did happen.

Aman handed Gird the key, and he looked at it, and then with a flick of his wrist, it seemed to dissapear. A smile was on his face, he had amused himself at the smoothness of the illusion, completely unaware that probably no one else had seen it, or even cared.

Gird picked up his mug, and refreshed not only himself, but also his 'milk mustache.'

[randomhobbit42]

"Well, well, well. It seems to me that these caves need some exploring," answered Drogo in a tone that was both fascinated and at the same time sarcastic.

Bucky leaned in closer. "That's why I asked you to meet me here this afternoon. We need to get together a search party. You have the best hunters. I have the best maps. We could make a fortune!"

"Could? I don't like the sound of that. What kind of risks are we talking about?"

"The risks one might take for a fortune fit for the King of Gondor," replied Bucky with a twinkle in his eye.

[Melisil]

"Eryn Lasgalen!" Eruisto repeated.

Melisil looked up at him, still in her thoughts. She smiled to herself as she knew that Elvish itself was a very deep and wonderfull language, and to anyone it's meanings could be different. She thought of home for a moment, then of times past, then of the present. Just sitting here in a bar, undecided on where to go next. She did not think of the future though. She had learned many times that the future will come as it may, and most times- not all, but most- it was better not to think upon it.

She repeated a few songs from long ago in her head. Then Melisil stopped; She looked up again to Eruisto's face.

"I wish I could turn you Elf." she said, half to herself, half to him, "I wish I could show you many the many wonders I have seen. It would do you good, I'm sure." she paused, "But then.. you are not of Elvish race, and that is in other ways much better."

Melisil paused again. She looked around. "I'm sorry." she said, in her more common voice again. "I've been thinking out loud. I'm tired, I've been traveling for a while. Still, I am not that tired, and lack of sleep is no excuse for anything." She hailed Ruby, "Could I please book a room for the night? Under the name Melisil if you please."

"Certainly miss." Ruby replied, as she went to get her the key.

Melisil looked over to Eruisto again. She asked curiously, as though she had just met him again. "You said you're from Gondor?"

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 2:48 AM December 29, 2003: Message edited by: Melisil ]

[Everdawn]

Sírabel and Lanus

"You know, im feeling quite glad now ive had cake, I think it was quite a good idea that i had." said Lanus smugly smiling at Sírabel with one side of his mouth crooked and his dark hair falling over his eyes.

"It was my idea" muttered Sírabel.

"Well whoevers it was, it was a well one indeed." he nodded pushing his plate into the centre of the table. Sírabel had a troubled look upon her face, something which did not look as it was supposed to be there, like a burnt log in the middle of a field of flowers. "What is it?" he asked.

"Ive been trying to think" said she, "About how a girl like I can only stay in the shire for so long, what ever shall i do next?" Sírabel sighed. "I though i may go back to Gondor, to Minas Tirith, to Contabro. Did I ever tell you of Contabro?" she asked and Lanus shook his head. "Another story for another time perhaps? Where was i? yes, Gondor. Which got me thinking, are you going to be a rogue all your life and freelance messages for lords and thieves? Is that really where your path lies?"

Lanus cheerful mood was snapped, his face in turn grew dark. "I see Miss Dleone, we still have much to learn of one another, and much which I still have not revealed about myself. No I do not see that i will be errend-running for my life, to !Lords and Thievesand one day I will return to Ithilien and take the post which was my fathers with the prince. The Haradrim, have i told you of the Haradrim?" Sírabel humble shook her head "A tale for another time perhaps?" he said mocking her.

"You can be so cruel sometimes Lanus, and here i thought you were nice, and even now i see a darkness creep over you." she said softly and reached for her folio which sat under the table. Out of it fell the two letters she had recieved from Lanus the pervious after noon. "I almost forgot!" she exclaimed picking them off the floor from under the table. "Ill have to-" there was a loud yell which was then uttered from her mouth as her head hit the top of the table.

"Miss Delone!" said Lanus helping her up. "You made the whole table shake, and- oh dear-" he put her back in her seat but beheld the trickle of blood which was now driping from a cut in her head.

"That hurt" Sírabel moaned, her eyes watering.

"Come now, lets get this fixed." said Lanus, lifting her so she was standing, but she swayed back to the seat. Next helping her across the room, they came to the bar and Sírabel was propped upon a stool. "Innkeeper!" he called as the young woman was serving a hobbit. "Have you anything which may aid my friend here, she knocked her head on the table."

[Will Witfoot]

Fungrim was momentarilly taken aback by the jolly-seeming hobbit. But Durin knew, he was happy for the company. It almost reminded him of the old days when he had still lived in the ancestral city of the dwarfes, surrounded by his kind and kin.

"I am Fungrim Flightaxe, once of the great hold of the Iron Mountains. From which part of the Shire do you hail from, master Hamfast?".

He drank some of the beer. For the first time in the day it tasted excellent.

[piosenniel]

Buttercup

Buttercup was out in the yard, filling the water bucket from the pump. The dishes were piling up in the sink, and what with Cook being gone and she a Ruby having to fill in to make the meals, there was just not enough time in the day to get everything done in a timely manner. A voice hailed her from the road, and she looked up, shading her eyes against the sun. It was Halfred, waving at her with a slim envelope.

She dried her hands on her apron, and ran to meet him. Must be some important letter for one of the Inn’s guests, she thought. Halfred handed her the envelope, looking at her expectantly. ‘Well, lass, are you going to open it or not? It’s addressed to you, you know.’

No, she didn’t know, having not looked at the writing on the envelope as yet. ‘Oh my gracious!’ she squeaked, looking at the precise letters, neatly displayed in the middle of the vellum field.

~*~ To Buttercup, Ruby, and Miz Aman / From The Tower Hills ~*~

Halfred followed her into the Inn. She was grinning as she raced into the kitchen. ‘It’s a letter!’ she shouted. ‘For all of us! Ms. Bunce has written!’ The two women gathered round her, while Halfred stood at the back, craning his neck to hear.


My dear friends,

Sorry to have taken so long to send a note back to you. But, I have to tell you that I have simply been too busy to set pen to paper. It has been a leisurely trip, for all the rush there was in leaving. Both Mistress Piosenniel and her nanny, Gilly, were reluctant to say good-bye so quickly to the lands and folk of the Shire. And Mister Mithadan is hard put to say ‘no’ to his lady. (And I would not want to be there should such an occasion arise!)

We spent several days in Whitwell, where Gilly is from and had a delightful time. Plenty of hands to play with the twins. And Gilly’s mother, I must say, runs an admirable kitchen of her own. There is a certain, tart black currant sauce for lamb which I have managed to pry out of her with an exchange for my own mint sauce. I half suspect she has left something out of her recipe, but I believe I savored it long enough that I can guess all the ingredients and their quantities.

Our next stop was The Dusty Traveler Inn, just south of Michel Delving. Now the Cook there, one Calendula Bracegirdle, has her work cut out for her! For ‘Dusty’ is too kind a word for that area. We were covered in white chalk dust from head to toe by the time we reached the Inn. The wind blows in from the west and the chalky White Downs gives up itself particle by particle as the breezes scattered the fine white chalky dust in the air. They have devised an interesting covering for the windows – a very fine, tightly woven silk netting that screens out most of the dust when the windows are thrown open. Calendula believes that the distinctive flavor of the foods from her area comes from the inevitable spattering of dust that every thing acquires. I am inclined to agree with her; it gives the flavors a certain dry edge. And think also that it is an excellent prompt for selling the great amounts of ale and other spirits that they do. One cannot help but be thirsty when one is swallowing dust!

From there it was on to The Far Downs, which Gilly reminded me were oft times called the Fox Downs. Try as we might, we had no sightings of any foxes there except for the one on the sign at the small Inn at Greenholm – The Fox and Firkin. Rooms were scarce to be had there. A party of Hobbits from Longbottom were there, trading leaf for imports that had come in across the Westmarch from Harlindon. Master Derufin and Mister Mithadan bunked out in the stable’s loft, while Mistress Piosenniel and the babies, Gilly, I, and Zimzi shared two small adjoining rooms. The meals were good. Nothing fancy, just good Shire food, and plenty of it. Interesting note – they employ a male cook. Tomlin Took by name. His wife had been the Cook previous to him, but she passed on a number of years ago, took ill from some bad potted eel she’d put by one year, or so I heard. Anyway, he’s and interesting person, about my age, I’d say. I’ve told him we’ll stop in again on our way back to Bywater.

You are probably wondering how the two lovebirds are doing? Well, I must say, that Master Derufin has made my job quite easy so far. He’s been the complete gentlemen, treats her like she was his waking dream. Which isn’t hard to do, she’s such a sweet young woman. This is not to say I have not let them take a number of walks alone in the evenings after dinner. How else are they to get to know each other? Propriety is all very good, up to a point, though in my mind it need not squeeze out romance altogether.

Now we have crossed over the Westmarch and are camped in the Tower Hills. For all her Elvish ways, Mistress Piosenniel is not having as easy a time with this new baby as she did with the twins. This one has a more contentious spirit. We have spent several days here in the shade of the trees and the towers while she waits for her stomach to remain settled enough to travel on. Master Derufin and Zimzi, and I have taken the opportunity today to climb to the top of Elostirion – to look West. They linger above, while she points out the way to her home from the balcony.

I’m sitting at the base of the White Tower, my back propped against its sun warmed wall. A hummingbird has found me. That is it has found my white vest with the big red flowers woven on it! Try as it might it cannot draw honey from them!

Derufin and Zimzi are coming down the stairs; I can hear them laughing. I’ll send this to you when we reach the Grey Havens. Someone will be coming this way from the Gulf, and can leave this with one of the Shiriffs at the bounds to bring to the Dragon. Will write again when there is time.

* Remember to clean out the flue from the stove in the kitchen. It’s that time again. And we wouldn’t want a repeat of the fire we had several years ago.

~ V. Bunce

[Fosco Burrows]

"I've made it at last! After that journey I could do with some liquid refreshment, some old toby from my favourite pipe and a good dose of old fashioned shire hospitality, I hope to find them all here." "Fosco Burrows is my name" the weary traveller announces to all at the bar who are prepared to listen and for my sins I own a broken cart and a horse that is fit for retirement!"

The thirsty young hobbit orders an ale and tells the drinkers at the bar about his journey. "I'm a miller from the small village of Whitwell about 7 miles south of Tuckborough, I've travelled the 25 miles to Bywater to dwell whilst I hope to do business regarding corn with Farmer Cotton who farms these fields"

"Anybody travelling the East road tonight will find my cart and horse in a sorry state by the side of the highway, for I have been forced to walk the last few miles!" The hobbit then excuses himself and retires to a table near the fire to catch his breath and more importantly sample the local wares.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 4:01 AM December 30, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Fire-Galad]

SINDAHIR

A shadowed figure sat near the back of the inn. Two small lights were all that could be seen of her eyes. 'As grey as the Anduin' her father always said. The girl shook her head. 'No this is why you're going to Valinor.' Sindahir gave a small sigh. She missed them. Her father, a lord in the house of Elrond, her mother, a beautiful and graceful Lorien Elf, even her annoying older brother Feanor, named after the Noldor lord of old. Now, they were just memories. Sindahir remembered how each of them left her and she hated not only her family for leaving, but also she hated herself for remembering it and anything else that had to do with her life in Minas Tirith. Except for one thing and it often stopped Sindahir from killing herself. Before she ran away six monthes ago, two weeks after her mother was killed by Orcs, Sindahir often locked herself in her room and never went out so her father asked if he found something or someone who could tell her about what ever she wanted to know, Sindahir would act the way she did normally. She had thought and told him she would if he found someone about the War that happened outside the city.

Sindahir smiled to herself. Her father kept his promise by finding one of the companians who had traveled with King Elassar. Sindahir didn't remember the Elf's name, but she did remember that whenever he visited her, a Dwarf was always with him. When the trio were done with the stories,Sindahir remarked that she would love to have an adventure.

Sindahir returned to watching and listening to the crowd, she nearly jumped when she two familar names, Rohan and Minas Tirith. Sindahir drew her grey cloak closer to her slim body remembering that her horse came from Rohan. Snowstar, Shadowfax's foal and soon Lady of the herds in Rohan. The names came from a group of four. One was of the Rohirimm and two were Elves, her own kind. The fourth Sindahir didn't know his race. 'I better keep an eye on them' Sindahir thought to herself.

[Orual]

It seemed as though Melisil was about to leave, so Eruisto had begun to stand to bid her good night. Then she turned around, and, with a curious look, asked, "You said you're from Gondor?"

Eruisto was a bit confused by the question at first, but he had just asked her about her home, so it only seemed fair that he should answer a question about his own birthplace.

"Yes, my lady. I wasn't born in the White City itself, but just outside. My grandfather was a member of the guard, and my brother still is, under the King Elessar." Though he had not been in Gondor for several years now, Eruisto still said the name of the King with a special reverance bordering on awe. "It's a great country, especially now that we're under a king again."

He sighed, a proud smile tugging at the corners of his lips, and he looked at Melisil. "I may not be an Elf, but there's still honor and dignity left in Gondor. I think that the King has brought it out in us." He looked quickly at Melisil, hoping he hadn't said too much. He wondered if it was polite to speak of the rising of Men to an Elf. He hoped that he had not hurt her feelings. Not the type to often wait around and find out--that got him in trouble--he went right on over whatever comment Melisil might have had, if she had one at all.

"But even Gondor couldn't hold me forever, though I do long for Minas Tirith some nights, when I'm sleeping in a hay loft or a dry trough, I can feel the breeze and see the flags whipping around and the leaves of the White Tree rustling faintly..." Eruisto broke off and smiled apologetically. "But nonetheless, I'm here now. I do think I'll see the White Tower again, though. It calls to me sometimes." He glanced curiously at Melisil. "I guess you can understand that."

[Pyroclastic]

Romenna and Niluial looked up in startlement as a curly haired woman slumped into a chair at their table unexpectedly. Romenna blinked and recovered from her surprise in time to remember her manners. "Would you like some tea also?" She inquired of the stranger.
"If I wanted tea, I would have ask for some myself," the stranger replied rudely. The woman stared moodily beyond Romenna at nothing, lost in her own thoughts.

Romenna sat back to better see the angry woman standing beside the table. Something was obviously bothering her, and she seemed in no mood to be comforted. The lady wanted to be angry, she needed to be angry. Romenna glanced at Niluial, studing her companion’s reaction to the angry intruder. Niluial petted her kitten as it lapped at its bowl of milk, the woman did not seem to bother her. Whoever it was that Niluial feared, this was not the person. Romenna reached up and unclasped the clip holding her brown braids atop her head, and slowly unwound the braids, giving her fingers something to do while she thought. "This is becoming quite a pattern," she thought to herself. "Everywhere I go, I somehow attract a crowd. Ah, the troubles of being friendly."

Romenna looked at each of her table mates. The newcomer was happy being grumpy and alone. Niluial took a first sip of her tea and considered the taste of it. Neither woman seemed inclined to start conversation. All three women jumped in startlement from the sudden shout of laughter by a man at a nearby table. The curly haired woman glared at the man. Niluial took a gulp of tea and cast a worried look around the Inn, once again looking for someone. Niluial’s kitten stood up from her now empty bowl of milk, and began to creep across the table, hunting some unseen prey. The kitten crouched, wiggling in anticipation, its eyes focused on the elusive object of desire. Then it leapt, its tiny claws extended, and landed on the far edge of the table. As it landed it suddenly sprang to one side, startled by some imaginary kitten foe. The kitty sprang too strongly though, hit a slick spot on the table, and skidded off the edge of the table.
"Silma!" Niluial cried. The new woman lunged across the table and caught the kitten just as it slipped off of the edge. Silma the kitten looked surprised at her unexpected adventure, and squirmed in the lady’s grasp. The lady handed the kitten back to Niluial wordlessly. Silma had other ideas. She kicked and struggled against Niluial, and landed a fierce scratch on her hand. Niluial squeaked in surprise at the pain and dropped Silma onto the table. Silma hissed proudly and skittered across the table to the curly haired woman and sat on the edge of the table, watching her and purring with a certain fierceness.

Romenna smiled and laughed while fishing a handkerchief from her pocket for Niluial. The curly haired woman looked at the cat, dumbfounded. "Cats are like that," Romenna said. Taking advantage of the opportunity provided by the kitten, Romenna decided to introduce herself. "Greetings and fair skies to you, my lady. I am Romenna of Gondor. Traveler, and guard for hire. My companion is Niluial, and I know not the name of the kitten."
Niluial smiled, "Her name is Silma." Turning to Romenna she said, "You are a guard for hire? I have never known a female mercenary before."
"I was the second youngest in a family of four boys," Romenna said. "All of them became warriors for Gondor. Without a mother to insist upon propriety, I don’t think they ever truly realized that I was a sister, not another brother." Romenna looked remenicent for a moment. Her brothers would have adored The Green Dragon. The had always had an affinity for the more obscure pubs. Especially Joren. There had been that one tavern on the outskirts of Harad…
Romenna shook her head, realizing that she had been daydreaming in the middle of her story. "At any rate, I learned war craft with the rest of my brothers. There are few opportunities for female warriors, but I have no other skill. The work is perhaps less glorious than for men, but such is the world." Romenna took a sip of her tea, and waited for Niluial’s reply.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 12:34 AM December 31, 2003: Message edited by: Pyroclastic ]

[Arothir]

Eothed had asked Taurnil how long he was going to stay. Taurnil was silent for a while. This was a nice inn, yes, but he wanted to get out of Middle-earth soon. He argued in his mind. He still wasn't sure how long he would remain in Middle-earth.

"Well, Eothed, it depends I guess. I feel like staying for a while, but loneliness is getting to me. I will try to make friends at the Inn. I hope my mood doesn't change, or I will leave the Inn and Middle-earth for good. But how is Rohan?"

[Fire-Galad]

Sindahir was so deep in thought that she didn't notice Ruby coming to her table with a letter.
"Here miss," said Ruby holding up the letter.
Sindahir snapped back to reality.
"Thank you Ruby." Ruby walked away and Sindahir read the message.

Dear Sindahir
I hope this reaches you before you leave. I have been told by Aragron, or King Elassar as the Gondorians call him, that your family was royalty. Before Gil-Galad went to fight in the Last Alliance, he named his youngest brother his heir. the brother was your father.

Sindahir reread the last two sentences. Her father a king? The letter continued.

So you see you are a princess of the Noldor. If you don't believe me thats fine. I must say this, come back to Minas Tirith before you leave Middle-Earth. I have something to tell you.
May the Valar protect you
Legolas
Sindahir stared at the letter. "Legolas," she whispered to herself. So she was to go back to Gondor the one place in Middle-Earth she didn't want to be, but the possibility of answers to the questions bugging her was too great and Sindahir secretly agreed to go back to Minas Tirith.

[Fosco Burrows]

"This is a fine inn and I feel most welcomed and at home here" Fosco said to himself but loud enough to be heard and to be thought of as a jolly polite and curteous hobbit.

Fosco was anxious however as his sole purpose for being here was to do business with Farmer Maggott, and following his problems on the East Road that day believed he would be late. Yet Farmer Maggott was not in the Green Dragon this afternoon.

"I do hope Farmer Maggott is not annoyed at my poor time keeping and I hope also that he has not gone home with the intent to end our business agreement"

Fosco sat at his table drinking his ale worrying about his new dilemma. The burrow's branch of Hobbits are known for their lack of good fortune and their constant worrying as a result! Fosco stroked his rotund hobbit face and scratched at his blonde hair (with all his worrying it was a miracle he had any hair left!), he began to look around the inn for someone to unload his worries upon "a problem shared is a problem halved" his father would always say, and it had become the unofficial family motto.

At this moment a group of Hobbits entered the inn. There were three of them and they began to look around the assembled throng of drinkers and travellers who had nearly filled the Green Dragon. Their eyes darted nervously around often stopping on what they believed to be familiar faces.

"Fosco, Fosco" the largest and most out of breath hobbit gasped. "Thank the stars above we have found you" huffed and puffed the tallest and strongest looking of the hobbits, he was obviously of farming and hard working stock. "We have been following you since you left Whitwell but could not catch you. We found your horse walking along the East road and a little further down your broken cart. I'm afraid we feared the worst" The third hobbit who was much smaller and youngest looking of the hobbits looked upset and added " we searched the route for you but found nothing, you have given us all a bit of a fright!"

Fosco looked at the three hobbits with a puzzled look on his face, he was not known for his speed of thought but at this moment in time time he knew he must ask one question of his trackers "why did you need to follow me anyhow"

[Tárafëaien]

Nemair looked over his shoulder into the coming darkness of twilight. Nothing was there though he strained his far seeing eyes. Nothing. The itch in his side would not leave. His ears twitch as the soft sound of hooting owls float on the soft wind towards his perked up elven ears.

Everything was to quite, which was the problem he supposed. Used as he was to traveling as a scout for the King in the woods of Eryn Lasgalen... It was never this quiet there, and it hadn't been for all his long life.

New sounds reach his ears as his eyes see a glowing rectangle of light. The door to an inn perhaps. Well its high time he settled down and found a drink to calm his jumpy nerves.

As he neared the door to the inn Nemair was able to discern the sounds more and more clearly. Raucous laughter, drunken singing and shouts. Perhaps this was not the place to settle ones nerves he thought as he came to the door.

A small sign swung in the silent zephyrs of early summer, it read the Green Dragon. An interesting name for a place in the Shire, which was supposed to be quiet and monster free, thanks to the work of King Elessar...

Shaking his head slowly the elf pushed open the door and ducked his way inside.

Upon entering the inn Nemair new that something was different about this inn, then from the halls of Eryn Lasgalen. Everywhere different groups settled, elves, dwarves, hobbits, and men, all mixed up to whatever system this place had devised.
As he looked around the room he spotted a small bird in the rafters trying to stay out of sight, and he smelled what could have been cooking venison from the kitchens.

Coming up to the bar he waited for the small hobbit lass to get around to him.

[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman heard Buttercup gasp and turned to see the little hobbit waving a piece of paper excitedly, her face flushed, but business called...the Innkeeper motioned one minute to the flustered hobbit-server and came forward to the jumpy-looking elf who had just approached the bar, a mixture of vague confusion (strange that vagueness should be seen on such sharp features) and acute interest settling on his features. I hope he's not too jumpy..., the Innkeeper raised an eyebrow inwardly with the thought, eyeing the bow and quiver of arrows he carried. She had become rather lax on the weapons policy, but maybe it would be better to start bringing it back...

"Good day, sir, how may I help you?" she inquired, smiling politely.

The elf regarded her for a second - probably confused as to why a woman of accurately Rohirric appearance (horses, horses, she had to go out and see the horses this morning, she had promised she would...) was asking such a question in the bar. An introduction was in order then...

"My name is Aman, I'm the Innkeeper." Her hand moved across the bar as she spoke.

[Fire-Galad]

Sindahir was packing up her belongings in her room. After she finished, Sindahir picked up her Lothlorien cloak, fastned the brooch at her neck, slung her bow and quiver of arrows onto her back, and got ready to leave the Shire. Sindahir had decided to take the same path as the Fellowship until she got to the Misty Mountians. Then she would take the Gap of Rohan and pick up the trail that Gandalf and Pippin used.

Sindahir pulled out a map and drew out her course in ink. She then folded up the map, put it in her backpack, and from under her bed Sindahir pulled out three large, white boxes. She shook all three of them and, after hearing two rattles, put them as well in her pack.

When Sindahir got back to the entrance of the inn, she noticed two men talking to each other. One was a Rohirrim, Eothed, and the other was an Elf, Taurnil. 'Maybe they can help,' Sindahir thought. 'Anyways it's worth a try.'

Sindahir took a deep breath, pushed her silver hair out of her face, and walked over to where they were sitting. "Excuse me," said Sindahir, in her strong and smooth voice, to the Elf. "I'm going to Minas Tirith. I would be honored if you and your companion would join me."

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 7:13 PM January 01, 2004: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Melisil]

"I do think I'll see the White Tower again, though. It calls to me sometimes." Eruisto glanced at Melisil. "I guess you can understand that."

"You will, no worries of that." Melisil smiled sitting down, more casually then before though, "Members of the gaurd of Gondor in your family is something to be proud of, I'll say that. And yes, King Elessar has done your country a great amount of good."

She took a sip of her ale before continuing, "Minas Tirith calls to you the same way that both the Grey Havens, and Eryn Lasgalen call to me. I can see it by watching you, that is where you love most." Melisil looked at some of the other customers of the Green Dragon, thinking hard for a moment. She sighed then looked to Eruisto once again, "The calling to the Grey Havens becomes greater the longer I live, yet leaving middle earth forever saddens me greatly and I am torn between the two choices." she stopped again, studying Eruisto's face. For a reason unknown to her, she felt a question coming up inside her,

"Eruisto, how old are you?"

[The Perky Ent]

"I lived in Longbottom in the South Farthing, but after an careless accident, I'm currently living in the Inn, seaking my fortune." Hamfast said to Fungrim, sipping his drink. Hamfast had been in the Inn so long he could spot people with his eyes closed. Hamfast was tired of all this waiting. He wanted to be with Ruby.

Taking a abnormaly large chunk of bread and talking with his mouthful, Fungrim said "That's a shame. However, that reminds me of a story. I was walking down the mountain when I man a tall man with a horse when...". Fungrim was drifting out of Hamfast's perception. With a loud thud, Hamfast fell asleep with his eyes wide open and drool running down his face.

"Hamfast? Hamfast?" Fungrim said to a inanimate hobbit. Hamfast was breathing. Fungrim smirked and thought that that perticular hobbit wouldn't be drinking for a while...

[Mercy of the Valar]

CADORSA

Cadorsa pulled her cloak tighter about her shoulders as she entered the town. The sun was bright yet the wind that had blown the clouds away was harsh on her face.

Her horse, Jacks, was an older mare, nothing special about her except for the fact that she had once belonged to Cadorsa's father. He had traveled to Bree from Gondor upon her, in search of a new life. He had met the young and frivolous Marietya, the stable mistress, there and married her. A few years later Cadorsa had been born, but took her mother's life in her violent entry.

Now Cadorsa found herself very alone in this world with the death of her dear father and the eviction of the house she had grown up in. She had gone where the road had taken her, but now with the harsh light of the sun things were beginning to come together.

She must get back to Minas Tirith to find what family she had left. Her father had had a twin sister, and if she lived, Cadorsa would have a family to go home to.

She smiled slightly at the sight of an inn, The Green Dragon. She was weary and thirsty, perhaps she could find a few maps of roads to Minas Tirith.

Leaving her horse with the stable boy, she smoothed out her skirts and walked into the inn and up to the bar. Tucking her chin length blonde hair behind her ear, and gazing with green eyes at the wood on the counter, she listened to the voices about her. One voice got her attention with it's words.

"I'm going to Minas Tirith. I would be honored if you and your companion would join me,"

Cadorsa jumped and turned to see a beautiful young elf maid speaking to another elf.

"Minas Tirith?" Cadorsa said, standing and walking over to the maid, "You are going to Minas Tirith?"

The elf looked warily at her, causing Cadorsa to blush slightly for her rudeness for interupting.

"I am in need of a guide to the White City, if you would be needing a companion, I would be willing," Cadorsa looked up at the silver haired maiden and prayed for a positive response.

[Fire-Galad]

Sindahir glared at this human girl and before Sindahir could stop herself, she replaid. "I'm sorry, but I'm looking for adults not children." The girl said that she was sorry and wouldn't bother her again, turned away, and walked out the door.

Sindahir at first felt satisfied that the girl left, but her guilt began to grow. 'She was in need of help and you knew it.' Sindahir finally made up her mind. 'I can still go to Minas Tirith if I take her. Anyways I do have the course drawn out on my map.' With that, Sindahir ran out the door.

Sindahir found the girl at the stables.
"Come on Jacks, lets go see if we can find someone to help."
"And what kind of help do you need?" Sindahir was leaning against the near the girl. The girl just looked at Sindahir.
"I thought you said you were looking for adults and not children?"
"I know what I said and I'm sorry. I would be honored if you would join me...uh...I didn't hear you name."
"Cadorsa."
"Sindahir."
The two shook hands and Sindahir asked Cadorsa.
"So when do you want to start?"

[Finwe]

FINWE

As he rode into the town, Finwë slipped his hood up over his head and kept to the side of the road. It wouldn’t do at all for someone to take a good look at his face, especially not now. He lifted his hand and softly skimmed his fingers over the long, pale scar along his cheekbone. No, it wouldn’t do at all. As he entered the town, Finwë noticed a rather comfortable-looking inn by the side of the road, and decided that both he and his horse needed a rest. They had been riding for five days, barely stopping for food and water, and they had a long way to go. Once they reached the inn, Finwë dismounted, and led his horse to the stables. There was an empty stall next to the entrance, and he led his horse inside, making sure that he had enough hay and water. As he walked out, he noticed a stable boy half-dozing by the wall.

“You, boy. Take good care of my horse.”

The boy jumped up, a respectful look on his face.

“Yes sir. Anything you say sir.”

Finwë smiled, and flipped him a silver coin.

“Go have fun.”

The boy nodded his head, grinning, and ran inside the stables. Finwë grinned and walked toward the main part of the Inn. He really needed some rest and one or two mugs of good ale ought to give him that. He kept his hood up as he walked in the door, and even though he attracted more than a few stares in his long, black velvet cloak, his slightly curved sword strapped across his back, two hunting daggers at his waist, and bow and quiver slung across his shoulders, he went straight to the bar.

“A tankard of ale, please, and an apple if you have any.”

Finwë settled down on a stool, and took out a dagger, placing it on the bar in front of him. Yes, ale and an apple or two would do very nicely.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 5:53 PM January 01, 2004: Message edited by: Finwe ]

[Maladuialion]

SAVED for re-worked post.

Please check your PM's (Private Messages).

Piosenniel, Shire Moderator

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 1:58 PM January 02, 2004: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Fire-Galad]

Cadorsa let out a yawn. Sindahir turned and look at her. "Oh Cadorsa I'm sorry. You're tired and so is Jacks."

"No I'm okay but...yawn...I am a little worn out."

"Then lets go and see about getting another bed put into my room so you can sleep there."

"That would be nice."

The two girls made their way to the door of the inn. Once inside Sindahir headed to the counter and Cadorsa followed her.

"Aman can I have a word with you?" The Rohirric innkeeper came over to Sindahir.

"Yes?"

"I was wondering, could you have a second bed put into my room so that my friend Cadorsa can sleep there?"

"Sure."

As the two of them were eating, Sindahir couldn't help but look around at the crowd. She then notice someone walk in. She was going to pass it of as another traveler, but she noticed the stranger never took his cloak off. Sindahir's curiosity always got the better of her before and thats why it took her six months to get to the Shire and she wasn't going to do that again. So she just closed her eyes and tried to see if she could hear him talking. After not hearing anything, who could it was always so loud in here, Sindahir opened her eyes. She saw him sitting at a table by himself.
"so Sindahir," Cadorsa started. "What were you doing here?" Sindahir considered the question before answering.
"Well you see, when Elves get tired of being in Middle-Earth they leave. Thats what I was going to do only I got a letter from a friend of mine named Legolas. He said that he hoped that the letter would reach me before I left. He also said that he wanted to tell me something and that I was to go back to Minas Tirith."

"Oh, did he say anything else?"

"Well, he did say something but I'm not going to say here."

"Why?"

"Lets just say I might be royalty."

"Wow!"

"Sssh."

"Sorry but how?"

Sindahir went to explain about the Fingolfin and his family and about his grand-son, King Gil-Galad and the rumor that he had named his brother his heir and that her father might have been that long-lost heir. Sindahir went on to say that her father and older brother were killed and so was her mother.

"So you see? I might be a princess."

"Forget princess didn't you say your was killed?" Sindahir's eyes widened.

"So you're saying that I might be a queen?" Cadorsa nodded as Sindahir tried to get over the shock. As she she did, Sindahir started to laugh alittle. She then remembered not to say anything only it was too late. Someone had heard everything that was said between the girls.

[Gird]

Gird was finishing off his milk, when he noticed someone enter the Inn. The only reason he really noticed him above anyone else who had entered, is because he wore a velvet cloak. I suppose if you have to wear a hooded cloak, may as well make it a nice fabric, Gird reasoned with himself.

He noted, as the man ordered his ale, he ordered it in the quantity of a tankard. Now he wasn't altogether sure what a tankard was, but it sure sounded big. He went on for a moment or two thinking about the size of a tankard. Now, is a tankard like a big tank? like a big barrel of ale? Tankard almost sounds big enough for a hobbit to be able to swin in.

Gird noted though, with a bit of dismay, as he was about to order a tankard for himself, that the man's ale was served to him. Tankard, he guessed, was just another name for a pint. Oh well, it sounded impressive.

He decided that it was about to introduce himself to the man. Gird leaned over and said with a smile, "Hullo, my name's Gird" He then reached over and grabbed the man's apple right from underneath him, and took a big bite, and interupted himself with an "oh!" and then a "this is the best apple I've had in a long time!"

He licked his lips, finally cleaning off the 'milk mustache,' that had been lingering there for quite a while. He then remembered his manners, and turned back to the man.

"I am sorry, what did you say your name was?"

[Mercy of the Valar]

Cadorsa turned back to the counter and wound one of her fingers around her short fair hair. She had cut it when her father had died as a sign of mourning. Her dark clothing also gave away the fact that someone close to her had passed to the gods. A funny pair they made, she thought, we must look laughable, a mounring woman and an elf maiden.

Cadorsa wiped the last of her bread around the empty bowl of stew in front of her and looked over at Sindahir.

"So, Sindahir," She said, setting the uneaten bread in the middle of the bowl and looking over at her companions with curious green eyes, "What were you doing here?"

The Elf considered the question for a moment, "Well you see, when Elves get tired of being in Middle-Earth they leave. Thats what I was going to do only I got a letter from a friend of mine named Legolas." Cadorsa's ears perked at the name, Legolas? Where had she heard that before?, "He said that he hoped that the letter would reach me before I left. He also said that he wanted to tell me something and that I was to go back to Minas Tirith,"

Cadorsa nodded solomnly, still trying to remember where she had heard that name before, "Did he say anything else?" she asked, bringing her hands together on the counter and staring at her fingers.

"Well," Sindahir shifted in her chair nudging closer to Cadorsa, as if she had something to say for her ears only, "He did say something but I'm not going to say here."

"Why?" Cadorsa questioned.

"Lets just say," Said Sindahir, edging closer, her voice going very low, "I may be royalty."

Cadorsa's eyes widened and her mouth formed a small 'o' of astonishment, "Oh my," She breathed, "Royalty?"

"Shh," Said Sindahir, "I shouldn't have mentioned it,"

"But how?" Cadorsa asked, turning her attention to the room as to seem as casual as possible.

Her voice went low as she explained the story of her family and lineage and Cadorsa sat with listening ears and casual eyes as the elf recounted.

"So you see?" She ended, taking a drink from her mug, "I may be a princess."

Cadorsa gave her a look from narrowed eyes, "Princess? Did you not say that your family has been killed?"

Sindahir's eyes went wide, reminding Cadorsa of the sun, large and revealing, "Queen," She said just below a whisper. She drew her breath and luaghed a bit sitting back in her chair, staring at the counter in shock at the thought.

Cadorsa drew away from her and took a drink from her own mug, tasting the bitter ale as it slid down her throat and warmed her stomach.

The sudden realisation that they had just had the conversation in a public house hit the two maidens at the same time, and Cadorsa put her head in her hands.

"Do you believe anyone heard our talk?" Sindahir asked looking around the room slightly.

Cadorsa did the same and shook her head, "I think i'm going to have another ale," She said, setting her mug down.

They soon found, however, that someone had heard their words...

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 2:15 PM January 02, 2004: Message edited by: Mercy of the Valar ]

[piosenniel]

Green Dragon Inn Facts:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Other ongoing characters in the Inn:

Ruby Brown, Hobbit – not married – server and maid

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

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

Ongoing characters from outside the Inn:

Halfred Whitfoot – local Shiriff and Postmaster; his pony’s name is Dumpling.
_____________________________________________
Please Note:

No 'SAVES' are allowed in the Inn.

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

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

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

_____________________________________________


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

_____________________________________________

IT IS NOW LATE AFTERNOON HEADING TOWARD EVENING IN THE SHIRE.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 2:07 PM January 02, 2004: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

I want to remind Inn patrons of one of the Shire rules from The Red Book of Westmarch:

Short chat-style posts which encourage other players to post in a chatty style are also not allowed.

Be descriptive, and try not to use a lot of dialog.

Communication between players in the Inn is welcomed, but please try to enhance it with some descriptive writing. This is not a television show or a movie where we can see your character and the environment they are in. You need to provide that for us - not just the dialog of the scene.

Thanks!

~*~ Piosenniel, Shire Moderator

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 2:09 PM January 02, 2004: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Finwe]

Finwë's lips curved in a smile. It had been a very long time since he had been treated with this audacity. It was rather refreshing, considering that it was coming from a rather amusing-looking fellow.

"I didn't say my name. But since you seem so interested, I'll give it to you. The name is Finwë, Finwë of Lindon. And yes, you are welcome to have a bite of my apple."

Finwë shifted, and took out a dagger from his boot, laying it on the bar in front of him. The man standing next to him, obviously enjoying his apple, took the hint, and slunk back to his table. Finwë turned around and sighed. It was proving more and more difficult to get a decent bit of rest. And it was getting blasted hot in his cloak. Velvet was not the most practical of materials, especially in a hot, crowded Inn.

"Oh, bollocks," he muttered, and pushed back the hood of his cloak, revealing silky, jet-black hair, cropped after the fashion of the Dunedain, barely reaching the collarbones. His bright silver eyes scanned the room, almost challenging the other occupants of the Inn to confront him. He turned back to his ale, and took a few more gulps. As he was listening to the conversation of the other occupants of the Inn, he caught a few snatches of a rather interesting conversation:

"I may be royalty..."

"Royalty...?"

Finwë turned in the general direction of the conversation, and saw a woman clad in black, as if in mourning, and an Elven maiden. The maiden seemed somewhat familiar, but he couldn't quite place her. There was an elusive something about her features that tugged at his mind, but he couldn't definitely put a name to her.

"Hmm... interesting. Royalty is it?"

So Finwë decided to listen some more.

[Mercy of the Valar]

Cadorsa swirled the remaining liquid in her mug around the cup. The gold of it matched the dying sunlight to the west outside. She could just glimpse it in the window in the back as she glanced over she shoulder.

However, she also noticed another figure as she looked. Her heart jumped in fear as she noticed that he was listening. The look of him frightened her and she slunk back at his icy gaze, silver streaming from across the room like a frozen river in winter. She noticed he was looking at Sindahir curiously, but when he turned his eyes to her, she shivered slightly. All she felt was winter beneath his eyes, crowned with dark hair and a thin scar running down the side of his jaw.

She kept his gaze till she could no longer and turned back startled to her mug of ale. He had heard their conversation. She was sure of it...

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 3:26 PM January 02, 2004: Message edited by: Mercy of the Valar ]

[The Perky Ent]

When Hamfast had awoke from his hangover, he looked around for Fungrim, who was no where to be seen. Hamfast always had excellent luck for making friends, but keeping them was another story. As the day grew on, Hamfast left the Inn and waited by the door. The fresh air helped in cleansing the hobbit from a foggy exsistance.

Hamfast realised a strange site, as people constantly kept entering the Inn, but none left. But then, he himself had resided in the Inn for sometime without leaving. But surely, there arn't enough rooms and tables to compensate the amount of residence in the Inn. As the day grew, and realising his dirty attire, Hamfast into the Inn to take a bath, dress in the appropreate mannor, and meet Ruby Brown for their dinner date.

[Galadel Vinorel]

A gentle breeze blew through the streets, as the sun began to slowly sink below the horizon of Bywater. Hobbits began to close up their store's doors, while the farmers retreated to the safety of their homes after a long day of work. The only place that did not shut down, yet, was the Green Dragon in Bywater. It's doors were not locked for the time being, and people sat within, talking, telling stories, drinking and eating, having a great time in the merry inn.

Suddenly the door of the Green Dragon opened with a fairly loud bang. A few heads turned as small, cloaked figure entered the room, followed by two dogs, over half as big as the person. The figure crossed over with the dogs, who really looked more like wolves, but not as vicious, to the bar counter. It nodded to the bar maiden, and as she did so her hood fell back to reveal a female hobbit's face. Her eyes were a deep, dark blue, full of light, and she had a fair complexion. Asking for a drink, she sat down on a stool, and called her two dogs to her. "Stock, Barlow, here boys," she commanded gently in her soft voice. The two dogs instantly came up to her chair, licked her hand, and sat down patiently at her feet.

After recieving her drink, the hobbit maiden remained sipping it in her chair, her eyes wandering slowly across the entire room, though her face never moved. She greeted no one, nor tried to introduce herself at all, for it was enough for Autumn Gamwich, hobbit of Bywater, to just sit and watch in the warm and comforting Green Dragon.

[Orual]

Eruisto was a little surprised by the question. "Twenty-five, my lady, coming up on twenty-six," he replied, then laughed a little. The laugh was either bitter or mischievous: it was difficult to tell. "Old enough to have made something of myself," he added, "though whether or not I have is up to debate."

He pushed his black hair away from his face and, with his green eyes dancing in the light of the Inn, he looked very boyish indeed, and very much a rascal. "By twenty-six my grandfather was already a guard, and my father was a smith...he makes armor...and my brother was a guard. And had two children." He shrugged. "Guess I'm the black sheep of the family. I like to think that I have the most fun, though." He took another drink, raising his glass to Melisil briefly, and sighed. "I guess that by twenty-six you hadn't made much of yourself yet, though, had you?" he asked, laughing a bit, and perhaps he was getting a little tipsy, but he didn't really care. He could hold his ale. He looked at Melisil again, though, and bit his bottom lip. He really oughtn't get drunk in front of her. He pushed his glass away and waited for her answer to what he now realized was probably a rude question.

[Melisil]

"Oh," Melisil sighed in his response to her question. "I'm sorry if I seemed slightly rude in asking that. You reminded me of a man I've met once or twice. Though I think he was slightly older then you."

She laughed at his question, "No, I suppose I hadn't." she smiled, taking a drink from her ale. "Don't worry about drinking in front of me." Melisil said, seeing him push his drink away, "I've been around drunk men before... as well as Dwarves and Hobbits for that matter." she smiled again, eating a bit of her forgotten meal which was, in fact, getting rather cold.

Melisil started. Looking outside she realized the time. "Ah how time flys!" she noted, "I'm going to take a breath of air outside. Want to join me?" Melisil asked, finishing a bit more of her food and then standing up.

[Everdawn]

Lanus was getting more impatient (or maybe it was just the sound of the muffled wailing of Sírabel beside him) he tapped his hands on the counter. "Innkeeper!" he called again, but it was not she who answered his call, but the hobbit lass who had served them cake earlier in the morning.

"What can i do for you?" she asked, but Lanus gestured to his friend who was bent over the counter. "I see, ill get something for you right away." and scurried off into another room.

"Oh Eru!" cried Sírabel. "I feel as though ive been hit about the head with a rather large blunt object!” she squinted through the blood which was running from her hair.

Ruby returned with some hot salty water and bandages. Lanus took them from her gladly. “Sit” he said to Sírabel who said nothing. “Now, would someone who was cruel do this for you?” he asked as he cleaned the wound. Sírabel closed her eyes.

“Im sorry Lanus, I shouldn’t have been so mean.” Lanus nodded and she was humbly silenced. In a few minuted the wound was on it’s way to healing and the two were back at their table. Sírabel felt dreadful. She struggled to find conversation once more. “The is a lot of new people who have arrived now.” Lanus nodded as he drank his ale. “Lanus, you said something before, about not having told me anything. You can tell me you know, I wont tell a soul- I don’t know anyone who I could tell.”

“I know” he said, a slight smile on his lips as he dragged his fingers through his dark hair. “And I will tell you, but in time. For the while, lets not think about our quarrel, why don’t we make more conversation, perhaps with more travellers, what say you?”

“I suppose” said Sírabel as she sunk into her chair.

[Maladuialion]

Maladuialion had been sat in the same position for quite some time. Eventually, the cnjrer rose from his seat, and walkedbriskly toward the bar. Once there, he stuffed some leaf in his pipe, and ordered a large mug of ale. He seemed distressed, but brightened when the stein was presented to him. He took a gulp, and his eyes widened.

"Excellent!" he exclaimed "Such ale is uncommon on my travels"

He stood, leant against the bar for another long duration. until he turned to see Eothed. He studied him for quite some time, taking puffs of his leaf, and occasional swigs from his ale. He left his position at the bar, and took a seat nearer a table of Gondorian rangers. He reached into his pouch, and retrieved texts, which appeared to have been retrieved from the libraries of Minas Tirith. He sat quietly, studying the parchments, and lookd up, as if he were referencing the rangers to the documents.He decided to read at a later time, and he put the papers back in his pouch. Again, he sat silently, observing the bustling Green Dragon. He rose after a short time, and left the room. Outside, he looked up into the red sky, and then over towards Mordor. He thought to himself for a while, before walking back into The Green Dragon. Merry and Pippin, turned to see Maladuialion, and he returned a smile,but it was obvious that something was troubling his mind.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 2:32 PM January 03, 2004: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Fire-Galad]

Sindahir looked up from her bottle in time to see Cadorsa shiver slightly. Sindahir gave her a questioning look. All Cadorsa did was nod in the direction behind Sindahir. Sindahir turned around in her chair and met the cold stare of the Elf that was stitting by himself. Sindahir returned his stare with one of her own. Her eyes had the look of the Anduin during a storm. The Elf seemed to reconsider her and the look he was now giving Sindahir, started to make her feel alittle nervous. 'Maybe I shouldn't have done that,' Sindahir thought.

"Sindahir, are you okay?"

Sindahir suddenly realized she was holding her head in her hands and breathing hard.

"Yes. Cadorsa, I'm fine. Really."

Cadorsa didn't seem to believe her.

"You look awful. You should go to bed. Thats what I'm going to do."

"Okay, I'll be up in a few minutes." In truth, Sindahir didn't want to be left alone with the black haired Elf. There was something she didn't like about him, but she couldn't place it. So she watched as Cadorsa went up to their room.

"Excuse me Sindahir, is that your name?"

Sindahir looked at the Elf as he sat down across from her. Sindahir made no reply, but she pushed a silver lock of hair out of her eyes. The Elf just smiled and continued. "My name is Finwe. Did you say to your friend that you were royality?"

[Mercy of the Valar]

A litte bit preturbed at Sindahir for sending her up to their room without telling her, Cadorsa stopped before she could reach the stairs that led up to the rooms.

A man sat with papers in his hand by himself, nearby some Gondorian rangers. Smoke rose from his pipe like the mist of dawn from rolling purple mountains. He put the documents away after glancing over them slightly with worried eyes. She watched the concern that was written on his face like a storm written across the sky and wondered what troubled him.

She walked over to him before she could stop herself.

"What troubles you, my Lord" She asked in her thin voice, knowing that it was rude of her not to introduce herself before starting the conversation, but the look on this stranger's face was so profound it made her wonder.

He looked up at her from where he sat, and Cadorsa tucked a bothersome strand of fair hair behind her ear...

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 1:59 PM January 03, 2004: Message edited by: Mercy of the Valar ]

[Galadel Vinorel]

After finishing her drink, Autumn asked Ruby for another cup of ale and some meat for her dogs. Taking the plate that had two pieces of meat lying on it, the hobbit lass walked outside and placed it on the ground. Her two dogs ate the meat hungrily, as the hobbit stroked their ears gently.

While staring off towards the setting sun, Autumn saw a tall figure approaching the Green Dragon. The person was wore a long, silver cloak, and the hood was pulled low over the figure's face. As it came closer, the hobbit lass suddenly realized who she was staring at and ran to greet her old friend with open arms.

The elf watched Autumn running towards her, she threw back her hood, laughing all the while, to reveal a fair face, with soft, crystal blue eyes, that seemed to dance with light, and golden hair that fell past her shoulders. When the two friends reached one another they embraced and Autumn's dogs barked hapily, trying to jump up and lick the elf.

Separating themselves, they looked at one another and smiled, for it had been a long time since they had last met. "I believe, Galadel," said Autumn cheerfully, "that you have grown much more beautiful since last I saw you, and, though it may seem odd for an elf of your age, even taller."

Galadel laughed. "You, my dear friend seem to have increased in beauty and even height," replied the elf in a soft, musical voice, "since last I laid eyes upon you. '

The friends laughed, and went into the inn together, followed by Autumn's dogs, talking about old times. Smiles were on their faces as they sat at the bar, laughing, talking, and singing. Autumn ordered a cup of ale for her friend, and sat there sipping their drinks and speaking of the new happenings in their lives.

[Finwe]

Sindahir's chin rose a few inches.

"What is it to you? If I am of high kin, it is none of your affairs."

Finwë laughed musically, his deep baritone soothing to the ears.

"Oh, but it is most definitely part of my affairs. Let's just say, that I am of... high kin also. We just might be related."

Sindahir barely suppressed the deep shock that she felt inwardly. A...kinsman? This day was becoming stranger and stranger. As the rays of the waning sun filtered through the room, they turned his skin a burnished gold. Sindahir gasped.

"You...you... look exactly like all the portraits of Lord Fingon. The resemblance is amazing!"

Finwë smiled grimly. The maiden had sharp eyes, and an equally sharp memory.

"So people say. He was my grandfather."

[Galadel Vinorel]

A breeze flowed through the main room of the Green Dragon Inn as the door opened to allow another weary traveler to enter the warm inn. Galadel turned slightly as the soft wind flowed against her cheek. Looking towards the door she saw an elf enter the room, and look around. He was dirty, as all travelers are, yet she could still tell by his clothing that he was definately a dark elf.

Galadel gasped as if the she had been hit unexpectedly in the stomach, and turned herself away from the elf to face the bar. She quickly pulled the hood of her cloak over her head to hide her face as she gasped for breathe.

Autumn stared at her friend, for she had never seen her ever gasp for breathe, nor act this way before. "What's wrong, Galadel?' asked the hobbit lass worriedly.

"The dark elf," replied Galadel hoarsely. Autumn looked up towards the door where the elf stood, looking around the main room tiredly, and then back down at her friend. "What about him?" she inquired, looking worriedly at her friend's pale face.

"I know him from somewhere, Autumn," said Galadel, slowly straightening up in her chair, and beginning to breathe normally, "I'm not sure where I know him from, but when I saw him my breathe left me, and I felt like I needed to hide at all cost." Autumn, now rather anxious, said, "Maybe you just met him on one of your travels, my lady."

"No, Autumn, that is not it," replied Galadel, pulling the hood back off her head slowly, "I know that elf from somewhere." Galadel looked over at the dark elf where he stood. She heard Autumn say, as if from a great distance, "But from where?" The female elf shook her head gently from side to side, searching her memory, trying to remember something that she had long forgotten.

[Maladuialion]

Maladuialion had been quiet most of his long life. He felt the need to speak only when the situation forced him, owever, when he did use his voice, he used it with great skill, and he rarely allowed himself to speak his mind.

He sat for a while, stroking his bard as he observed the inn's activities. His trail of thought was abruptly ended, when a roughly clothed and dirty ranger burst through the door. The man walked briskly over to the conjurer, ignoring the stares he recieved from the other patrons.

He spoke with a soft, yet distressed voice, and he leant closer to Maladuialions ear.
"Isengard has been cleansed, but some orc movements have been reported" he whispered, occasionally glancing around, to catch out eavesdroppers."The Ents have gone back to he darkness of Fangorn, and we are short in manpower and supplies." He continued, now concentrating more on his surroundings.

After a short pause, Maladuialion spoke.

"Pull your men...." His voice diminished from earshot, as he realised that the matter that was being discussed was indeed a delicate one.

He spoke for a while, before placing his large hand on the rangers' shoulder. He spoke softly to him, and dismissed him. The ranger bowed, and turned toward the door.

The ranger turned again, and Maladuialion nodded to him. He left.

The conjurer was now sitting more to attention, and he retrieved the documents from his pouch. He flicked through them quickly, taking swigs of ale, and bites of meat. His scanning eyes stopped, and he read with more concentration. He frowned, the wrinkles on his forehead becoming more noticable. He gasped his stick, and enclosed the parchment into his pouch. He rose, finishing the ale, and giving the remainder of his meat to Dumpling.

He placed his hat atop his head, and nodded to the innkeeper. He rose, his height becoming something at which to marvel. Maladuialion walked briskly out of the door, taking a torch from the nearby stand.

His horse, named Hurmax, was tied to the bar outside. He swiftly undid the knot, and saddled the horse. After this, he mounted Hurmax, and rode out, his figure slowly disappearing into shadow, a silhouette, with the orange flame of his torch.

[Imladris]

Iris of Bree

Iris’s eyes dropped to the table as she saw the wondering glances of the women at the table. Her lips twitched as she glanced up again, and saw Elentari and Finduilas trip gaily up the stairs. Finduilas had her hand upon the elf’s arm and her step was firm, not cautious as it had been with her on the day of the Naming.

Her lips tightened into a grim smirk, she drove her nails into the soft wood of the table, her green eyes hardened into dark jade. Shrugging slightly, she gazed into the table, following the swirls of the wood. How could Finduilas be so happy when she couldn’t see a thing, when she couldn’t even the fair elf that guided her? Speaking of that dratted elf, how could she even deem to associate with a lowly mortal.

A hobbit lass, balancing a serving tray in her hands, swept by and served the couple opposite their table. Catching her arm as the waitress passed, Iris asked icily, “A cider --- please.” As she drank, her thoughts churned like a stormy sea. It wasn’t fair that she could have everything and she have nothing . Why was it like this? Why could Finduilas have a friend and she could not. A silent tear escaped and trickled down her cheek.

[Fosco Burrows]

"I'm waiting for an answer" said Fosco who was now a confused and curious little hobbit.

"We wanted to tell you that all our problems are over Fosco" said an excited Hawley Burrows, Fosco's twin brother. "we have found something we believe is very valuable and of great interest to all hobbits!"

"We were digging a drainage ditch behind the mill when we found treasure" added Fosco's youngest brother Dirkin.

Fosco's Elder brother Gunter interrupted Dirkin as he was sure Dirkin would ramble inanely for hours otherwise! "We believe we have found an artefact from the occupation of The Shire by Saurman's evil hordes. In the field behind the mill we were digging a ditch to help prevent floods when Hawley hit a hard round object which turned out to be a shield, we ended up finding many items of armour and general orcish paraphenalia"

"But what of this treasue Dirkin spoke of, tell me, tell me!" shreeked Fosco with delight. This led to him getting many funny looks from fellow patrons of the inn.

The three brothers moved closer to Fosco and formed a huddle around him. Gunter looked around the inn briefly to ensure noone was listening to what he was about to say.

"We found a small chest that we were able to smash open and inside we found a brooch made of gold, a necklace also of gold and last of all a ring with the eye of sauron that Samwise Gamgee tells stories about etched into the Gold almost like a sygnet ring"

"I wonder if they were Sauraman's personal belongings" mused Fosco.

"No I think they would belong to his pathetic assistant Grima Wormtongue because he took over a large hobbit dwelling nearby during the occupation." Gunter pointed out to his younger brother.

"This is truely a most interesting and exciting discovery" Fosco thought aloud.

"But what shall we do with these treasures, we need a plan" said Fosco. He sat back in his chair and thought quietly to himself. "Whatever we do the first step is to drink ale and be merry and thankful, Dirkin order four of the best ale in the house and one for the barmaid!"

[Vicki]

Nuruialien the Elf from Eryn Lasgalen

It was getting dark Nuruialien decided she had better stop for the night. Nuruialien dismounted her horse. She tied him to the post outside of The Green Dragon Inn. She the tied her bow and quiver tightly to the saddle. Nuruialien entered the Inn.

Her five foot eight inch frame stood in the door way observing the Inn's patrons. Nuruialien tucked a flyaway strand of her pale blonde hair behind her ear. She smoothed a hand over her braids.

Nuruialien's quick elf-eyes spotted a young woman working busily in one corner of the Inn. "Excuse me, are you the Innkeeper here?" Nuruialien's sweet voice asked.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 7:52 PM January 03, 2004: Message edited by: Vicki ]

[Carlas]

As the last bit of the sun’s glorious rays disappeared into the rolling hills, a young hobbit lass; Chica Goodbody, stopped to look at the beautiful sight. She took a deep breath of the slowly cooling air as she pushed her long brown locks out of her face. Her cheeks were pink from walking all day, and her feet ached, she was not used to so much traveling.

She looked down the long dirt road and saw a small inn. Warm light spilled from the doorway, as a patron left, and she smiled; she might actually have a place to sleep that night after all. She had thought she'd have to sleep outside, not knowing that there were any inns about this neighborhood. Walking up to the small building, she could hear the laughter and cheering of the peoples inside. She stopped just before the doorway to look up at the sign, which swayed gently in the evening wind. The Green Dragon she thought silently, and decided that she had the time to get a good drink, and maybe stay the night, if she had brought enough money.

Chica stepped into the room, and looked about at the patrons of the inn. Everything seemed normal enough; the laughing people, the hearty fire, it would be a good place to stop for the night. Her father had been expecting her home that day, but she was not cut out for traveling, and had made slow progress. She sighed, and decided to get herself a good, strong drink.

[Tárafëaien]

Upon recieving a small glass of ale and a bit of chesse covered toast, Nemair the elf removed himself to the corner of the bar farthest from the door and drank his ale silently. The bread he broke into bite sized pieces, then he arranged them all on the table in front of him.

Nemair was comfortable, he could feel the weight of his bow and quiver of arrows across his back, and his legs were comfortably stretched to the floor. He remembered many a time when he would sit in taverns, alone or with friends, what friends he had, but always it was a time to open his ears and listen to other people with their problems and to laugh silently with any joke that was told. This was his kind of life.

Out of boredom, the elf picked up a piece of bread and put it in his mouth. The flavors of the cheese were pleasantly mixed with the bread itself and altogether was a nice meal... now if only that bird up there will take the hint...

Oh well, its loss, he thought to himself as he popped another savoury piece into his mouth.

[Finwe]

Finwë lost his composure completely. He ran his hand through his tousled dark mane, and stared wide-eyed at Sindahir. Suddenly realizing that he was behaving like an Elfling of 30 summers, he shook himself.

"Forgive me. Do you mean...Prince Legolas of Mirkwood, Lord of Ithilien? This is...incredible! He was one of my best friends and I've known him since he was a lad. He is the only other person in Eriador who knows my true descent. Well, the only other person, until now."

Sindahir stared blankly at Finwë for a few seconds, before managing to choke out a few words.

"Why would he have sent me that letter? It almost seems as if he wanted us to meet somehow."

Finwë nodded. His old friend definitely had a penchant for impulsive decisions and complicating situations. After all, he had gone on that suicidal Quest for Mount Doom, as a member of the Fellowship. Finwë found it remarkable that his friend had survived the consequences of his impulsive decision. If anyone knew what was going on, it would be Legolas, and there was only one place to find him. Finwë shook his tousled mane out of his eyes, and with a new glow in his eyes, turned to Sindahir, and took her hand in his.

"You said that you were going to Minas Tirith or thereabouts, were you not? Do me the honor of accepting me as a traveling companion. I know these roads, and I daresay that I can keep you and your party out of danger. It is to our advantage if we find out about our family history... cousin."

[Niluial]

Niluial wrapped the handkerchief around her hand tightly to stop the bleeding. Niluial watched the grumpy woman roll her eyes as she looked outside. Niluial sighed people these days… so grumpy all the time! And then they have to come and sit at tables where troubled people sit! What is middle-earth coming to Niluial thought. She glared at her kitten as it walked proudly around with its bushy tale in the air. "Cats are like that," Romenna said while she looked at Silma. Niluial tapped her fingers lightly on the table wondering if it was a good idea to let any of the travellers sit at her table. Actually it was a good idea. No one can find me this way… they will think I am just a woman visiting with her miserable friends Niluial thought then smiled at herself. "Greetings and fair skies to you, my lady. I am Romenna of Gondor. Traveller, and guard for hire. My companion is Niluial, and I know not the name of the kitten." Romenna said trying to make conversation. Niluial smiled "Her name is Silma." Silma jumped back on Niluial's lap and purred once again. Niluial thought what Romenna had said and was taken by surprise, she turned and looked at Romenna "You are a guard for hire? I have never known a female mercenary before."
"I was the second youngest in a family of four boys," Romenna said. "All of them became warriors for Gondor. Without a mother to insist upon propriety, I don’t think they ever truly realized that I was a sister, not another brother." Romenna looked at Niluial and smiled. “At any rate, I learned war craft with the rest of my brothers. There are few opportunities for female warriors, but I have no other skill. The work is perhaps less glorious than for men, but such is the world." Romenna said and then took a sip of her tea. Niluial thought for a few seconds. “Well it sounds like you have had an interesting life, actually. There is not much to say about me and my whereabouts I might just bore you to death, I don’t exactly want to do that now!" Niluial said winking at the two ladies.

There was silence one again and Niluial feared she hadn’t told them enough “um, Silma is from a little hobbit village, I found her there when I passed by on my journey, I had to take her with me. Look at her, who could leave her behind?” Niluial smiled. She loved her kitten dearly, too much actually. Niluial looked at the odd woman who she knew nothing about “and you are?” Niluial said waiting for a reply.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 4:23 AM January 04, 2004: Message edited by: Niluial ]

[Teleri]

"Rose..."

"Not now Lily."

"But..."

"I am speaking with someone, see?"

Lily couldn't see, the counter was higher than her head. Peering around the edge she saw her sister was talking to Andy Goodbody, and blushing so deeply that she was as pink as her name-sake.

Sighing, Lily sat down in the corner, out of the way, and hugged her knees. The Hobbit lass was not particularly pretty (she was one of the few children born in 1420 with brown hair), though something about her eyes made her gaze entrancing at times. As she waited in the corner, she unconsciously tried to rub some mud off the hem of her frock. Her stomach grumbled; a day of hard play had left her hungery. Looking for a diversion to stave off hunger, she drew out a little green book. Over top of it her name was written. Lily had learned some of her letters (quite enough for a girl to know). Out of the notebook, she took a pressed golden leaf. She had caught it last year, as it fell from the mallorn on the Hill. She made wishes on it sometimes. Now she kissed the leaf, and made a wish "I wish that I could have something to eat soon..."

She put the treasured leaf away, and looked up from where she sat. She caught the eye of a stranger. He was a man of the same age, there abouts, as her father. He was small, but he was no Hobbit. He was dressed humbly, like a gardener, and his clothes were worn with age and weather. Something about this child must have struck him (perhaps it was her wide-eyed stare), because he called out to her
.
"What is your name lass?"

"Lily Hornblower, Sir." Lily stood up.

"Well, Lily," said the man, pulling up a stool next to his, "will you let me treat you to dinner?" Lily smiled, and silently thanked her little mallorn leaf.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 6:08 AM January 04, 2004: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Amanaduial the archer]

After signing in two new people into the guest book, serving drinks to a rowdy rabble of hobbits and popping in to check up on how the meal was getting along, Aman was feeling rushed off her feet and still hadn't been out to see the horses. But there were no new customers right now, Buttercup was making the rounds....looking around furtively, Aman sidled out from behind the bar and began to make her way casually towards the door, with all appearance of busily checking everything was alright with the customers seated at the tables...

"Excuse me, are you the Innkeeper here?"

A sweet voice told Aman her charade has maybe not been convincing enough. Turning guiltily, Aman viewed the owner of the voice: an elf, as she had guessed by the slightly musical edge of the voice, although whether of Lorien or Eryn Lasgalen was confused by her pale blonde, braided hair accompanied with brown eyes.

The elf smiled nervously and Aman nodded politely. "I am indeed - my name is Aman. Can I help you?" A sudden idea struck the rohirric Innkeeper and she beamed even more widely inside. "...and have you a horse that needs seeing to?

[Vicki]

Nuruialien smiled, "Yes. I am Nuruialien. I need lodgings for the night."

"Well the welcome to the Green Dragon Inn. I am Aman. I'll find you a room. But first let's get your horse into the stable," the innkeeper said.

Nuruialien went out front and until her horse, Helkarant. She followed Aman around to the stables. There she saw many horses each tied into a stall.

Nuruialien led Helkarant into one of the empty stalls. There she tied him up and removed her bow and quiver. Aman came over with a feed bag for Helkarant.

Once Helkarant was tethered and fed. Nuruialien and Aman returned to the inn. "May I get you something to eat before you go to your room?" Aman asked.

"That would be nice. Thank you," Nuruialien said. She took a seat at one of the many wooden tables in the large room. Nuruialien sat back to observe the other patrons of the Inn.

[Fire-Galad]

Sindahir was surprised. Not that Finwe had taken her hand but that she had done nothing. Sindahir felt calm for the first time in six months. Suddenly she remembered something that her father had given her. It had been a thick bracelet made of silver with a small blue ribbon tied in a bow on it. Sindahir looked up at Finwe's silver eyes. 'Should I tell him about the bracelet?'

"Finwe, I have something you should see. It belonged to my father and he said it had belonged to his oldest brother. I believe that it might have been Fingolfin's because it had his emblems, blue and silver. I sort of was hoping that you would know more about our family." Sindahir had explained away the main reason for going back to Mians Tirith.

'When Finwe tells me what I need to know, I can leave this place and go to Valinor just like I meant to.' However, as Sindahir was thinking a painful thought hit her. Cadorsa would be upset that Sindahir had broken her promise. Finwe he...uh...he would... Sindahir couldn't think of a good reason.

Finwe let go her hand and Sindahir ran up the stairs that led to the room, just catching a glimpse of Cadorsa with a group of Ithilian rangers. After digging in her backpack for what seemed like an hour, Sindar finally found the bracelet. Whether the bracelet was magic or well made and the ribbon of strong weave, the silver hadn't tarnish and the ribbon stayed as beautiful as ever. Sindahir ran back down the stairs to tell Cadorsa that Finwe was a new companion and ask him about the bracelet. The second part was easier. Finwe look up as Sindahir sat down. "I accept yuor request to be my companion." Sindahir put the bracelet on the counter. "What can you tell me about it?"

[Eothed]

Meneldur walked swift and soft up the hill. He looked down at a few small houses. It were dawn and he cold see a few lights in the windows. He slowly walked down and got closer to the houses, he saw a sign that said it was a Inn nearby. He walked to the Inn and entered. He was cold and hes legs were shaking. The air at the Inn was warm and comfortable. He walked straight to the Innkeeper and asked for a room for the night. Then he ordered an ale and sat down by a empty table.

He looked out of the windows at the Inn and it was starting to get quiet dark outside. He sighed and removed his hood. He shaked his long chocolatebrown hair. He had been in wilderness for a very long time and he felt lonely now and whanted to speak to someone. The wilderness and the lonely wandering had made him very silent and reserved. But now he whanted to talk after all silence and lonelyness.

He looked around himself for someone to talk to.

[piosenniel]

Baruk Khazâd! Axes of the Dwarves!

DWARVES NEEDED TO RECLAIM MORIA!

__________________________________________________ ________________

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ NOTICE OF NEW GAME OPENING ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Amanaduial and Imladris invite you to look at the proposal for their new game:

~*~ Last Hope for Moria ~*~.

Click HERE (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/cgi-bin/ultimatebb.cgi?ubb=get_topic&f=19&t=000131&p=1#000013) for the Discussion Thread.

Read the proposal thoroughly, re-read the suggested parts of the Lord of the Rings trilogy, and take time to craft a good character and a well done First Post.

This should be a fun game! See you then!

smilies/smile.gif Happy New Year to All! smilies/smile.gif

~*~ Piosenniel, Shire Moderator

[Vicki]

Nuruialien watched as a man with dark brown hair and the appearance for a wilderness man walked in. He took a seat at a table, he appeared to be searching the room.

Nuruialien knew that he must be looking for someone to talk to. She rose from her table and walked over to his. "Is this seat taken?" she asked him.

[Eothed]

"Is this seat taken?" She asked. Meneldur tried to find the right words, it was hard to speak and he had almost lost his manners. "Well, yes, my Lady.", he answerd with a smile.

Finally, he thought, someone to talk to. He looked at her and then said quiet;"So, who are you, my Lady? And where are you from?" He were so embarassed for his manners. He looked down at the table and tried to not seem so shy.

He awaited Nuruialien to answer.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 3:32 AM January 05, 2004: Message edited by: Eothed ]

[Finwe]

Finwë's silver eyes narrowed as he looked at the bracelet. He picked it up and studied it closely. As he turned it around in his hands, he lightly ran his fingertips over the fastening of the bracelet. Suddenly, he smiled. Sindahir looked up at him, questioningly. Finwë leaned forward and whispered:

"Come outside with me for a few minutes. This is far too priceless to be shown to the people in here."

Sindahir got up and accompanied Finwë outside. She had to hurry to keep up with his long strides, for he was very tall, even for an Elf. He walked over to a deserted corner and motioned her closer. Sindahir moved closer to look at the bracelet. As Finwë's fingers ran lightly over an almost imperceptible bump on the bracelet, a small hatch sprang open. Sindahir gasped. She could see stones of sapphire and adamant glittering inside, along with stones of a material that she had never seen before, shining with an oddly soothing, silvery-white light. Finwë nodded grimly.

"It is as I thought. This bracelet, along with its brothers, was made in Valinor by none other than the famous craftsman Mahtan. One brother bore gems of the color of the House of Fëanor, rubies, topaz, gold, and garnet. Another, this bracelet, bore the colors of the House of Fingolfin, blue, silver, and white. The last, and youngest, bore jewels of the colors of the House of Finarfin, gold and white. It was written that the Heads of those Houses bore this bracelets, and at their deaths, the bracelets passed on to their offspring. Fingolfin's is now found and Finarfin's is with him, in Valinor. The only bracelet unaccounted for is that of the House of Fëanor, the Dispossessed. I made it my life's work to search for the remaining bracelets, and they have been found now."

Sindahir looked up at him. The rays of the setting sun dyed his alabaster skin with shades of gold, seemingly turning him into a golden statue.

"I thought you said that the bracelet of the House of Fëanor was lost."

Finwë smiled grimly, as was his wont.

"It had been thought lost, but I have found it. It took me a century to find it, a century of searching in some places whose evil you couldn't even imagine."

Sindahir's eyes widened in fear. There was only one place that contained such nameless evil. Even though the Dark Lord had been defeated, Mordor was still a place of great fear. She murmured:

"You...you... went to... Mordor?"

Finwë looked at her and silently pointed to his scarred cheekbone.

"I was physically and emotionally scarred forever. But I did find what I had been searching for. After grievously wounding Fëanor, Gothmog, Lord of Balrogs, took the bracelet, and gave it up to his master, Morgoth. Morgoth gave it unto his servant Sauron for safekeeping, and so it remained for two Ages of this world. It goes to show, evil will ultimately be defeated by what is good and right. That bracelet has been recovered."

Sindahir tremulously asked:

"Do you still have the bracelet?"

Finwë flicked back his cloak, undid his bracer, and pushed up his sleeve. The designs on the bracelet sparkled and danced in the light of the setting sun.

"However, my victory came at a price. The taint of the Doom of Mandos, and of the Dark Lords, lay upon this seemingly harmless trinket."

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 4:09 PM January 04, 2004: Message edited by: Finwe ]

[Amanaduial the archer]

Tending to the elf's horse smoothly and deftly, Aman regretfuly rubbed the nose of Pio's fine mare briefly as she passed, but was unable to stop - she would have to sign in this elf-maiden first (from Eryn Lasgalen, she was almost sure...).

Stepping back into the hustle and bustle of the Inn, Aman wove towards the front with the elf following in her path, always looking around; the Green Dragon came as a surprise to most with its complete range of company, and most elves were not too high and mighty to be amazed. Aman smiled to herself: The Green Dragon - one of the wonders of middle earth!

Signing the elf into the logbook, Aman surreptitiously took a look at the name, before her eyes flicked back up to the elf and she nodded politely, smiling. "Welcome to the Dragon, Nuruialien."

The elf smiled and waited as Aman ran quickly through all instructions, leaving the key behind the bar with the rest so the elf could ask for it when she needed it, as she wasn't going to her room immediately. Rather she paused, turned to contemplate a dark, withdrawn looking man; a ranger, there was no doubt.

Aman made sure they both had a drink then began to weave across the Common Room again. I will get to the stables, I will get to the stables, I will get to the-

A snippet of conversation, spoken rather loudly considering its content, made the Innkeeper stop and back up a step, eyebrows shooting up.

"...the Doom of Mandos, and of the Dark Lords, lay upon this seemingly harmless trinket."

The Innkeeper looked around sharply to see the words had come from a pair of elves, a woman and a man, in the corner furthest from the bar...and from the door. However, there would be no alarm spreading from such words, not in her bar...setting her jaw, Aman strode over. As she reached the pair, she smiled brightly. "You done with these?" she questioned sunnily, indicating the cups in front of the pair. Startled, they looked up at the Innkeeper who, despite her small stature, seemed to be looming. A murmured assent allowed Aman to lean over to get them, and she came level with their faces, looking both in the eye warningly.

"Now, talk though you may of Mordor, and of the Dark Lords, I would very much rather you did not do so where there are people who may be alarmed, and certainly 'tis alarming. I know," she held out a hand placatingly as the man started angrily, about to say something. "I know that was probably not your intention, but I have a policy of weapons being left outside, and words such as these can be weapons, of a sort. The time for storytelling is the evening, and then your tale shall be welcome. But now..." she paused, straightening.

A slight smile seemed to hover around the elf-man's lips. "You have excellent hearing it seems, mistress Innkeeper."

"Aman will do, thankyou sir." She smiled warmly, then addressed both of them. "May I ask if you need anything else...or if either of you have a love of horses?"

[Vicki]

Nuruialien smiled at the ranger. She took a seat across from him. "I am Nuruialien. From Eryn Lasgalen."

She noticed he seemed very shy now that she had come over. He looked down at the table. "What brings you to these parts, sir?"

[Melisil]

Melisil waited for Eruisto to answer. As she waited, she looked around the Inn. There was a plaque over the shelves of beer which looked old, sad, an unread for quite some time. She guessed a previous innkeeper had hung it up there, and afterwards had been forgotten.

There are songs to be sung,
And tales to hear,
So on the peg let your hat be hung,
Behave or be out on your ear!

Melisil pondered it for a while, particularily the first two lines. "I wonder when a song was sung, or a tale told in this in last? Certainly not recently it seems." thought the Elf.

Strangly and instantly she burst into song, her Elvish voice ringing throughout the Inn. She did this feeling the words of that plaque should be fulfilled once more.

"Anda, anda yá,
Melin Ladris linda,
Líre alcarin quenta enwina!
Urúva felya, oron eruanna
Se líre! Se líre! Ilya lúme!
Líre, líre, melin Ladris;
Líre, líre, ilya lúme!

Haire, haire au,
Melin Ladris linda,
Hamalánalanne malta!
As írima eruanna, páten tercaced
Se lána! Se lána! Ilya lúme!
Lána, lána, melin Ladris;
Lána, lána, ilya lúme!"

[Finwe]

Finwë smiled, a rare occurrence which lit up his handsome face.

"Forgive me, Mistress Aman. I have this rather... irritating tendency to forget that I'm in a public place when I get into serious discussions. This will not happen again. Did you mention horses? You are speaking to a Noldo, mellon nin. We adore horses. They usually tend to subdue our rather suicidal tendencies."

Aman laughed, and picked up the two mugs sitting on the table, taking them to the kitchen to be washed. Sindahir chuckled along with her. The invisible wall between the two had finally been broken. The glance that they shared suddenly had new meaning. They had each found a new friend.

[Orual]

Eruisto's eyes widened as Melisil sang. He was not very well-versed in the art of song, but he knew that Melisil had a beautiful voice. As her song continued, his eyes widened further. His mother had sung this song to him, when he was young, or a lesser version of it. But he remembered the last few lines, and sang them with Melisil.

He sang quietly, not truly wishing to be heard over Melisil, as he did not have much confidence in his ability to sing. His pleasant (though he did not think it) bass voice was not heard by many, but the few who did hear it thought it played nicely to Melisil's pure soprano. He smiled bashfully when Melisil finished, and tried to pretend that he hadn't been singing at all.

"You have a lovely voice," he commented, hoping that she hadn't noticed his joining in. "Do you sing often? We can talk as we walk."

[Child of the 7th Age]

Hawthorne Brandybuck

Hawthorne Brandybuck jabbed her heels repeatedly against her pony's withers and trotted up the South Lane in the direction of Bywater. Her chestnut curls jounced up and down against her back, framing a pair of blue eyes that glinted with determination. Approaching the crossroads without slowing down, Hawthorne yanked back on the reins at the last moment and brought Periwinkle to a walk, staring intently at the unfamiliar structure that now loomed west of her, no more than fifty paces distant. A sturdy wooden sign hung from a pole in front of the building, proclaiming it as “The Green Dragon Inn”.

The hobbit lass dismounted her pony and bounded up the steps, her expression relaxing into a smile. She was further away from home than she had ever been, and that alone made her happy. She had managed to leave her servant and companion a good ways behind. About two miles down the South Lane, a pony cart inched slowly up towards Hobbiton, its wheels creaking out a protest against the heavy load. This cart held all of Hawthorne’s worldly belongings, including several chests filled with articles of clothing and trinkets the young hobbit could not bear to leave behind. The driver of the cart was Dandelion Greenhand, a stout and sensible Harfoot of middling years whose principal task in life was to keep an eye on Hawthorne and make sure that she did not meet a disastrous end.

Despite running off from her companion, Hawthorne was fond of Dandelion. The older hobbit had entered the service of Brandy Hall twelve years before to care for all the Brandybuck children. Hawthorne had been a young lass then. The earlier nanny, Cami Goodchild, had unexpectedly left Buckland for a post in distant Gondor, never to return. Although Hawthorne had been fond of Nanny Cami, she was delighted to discover that the new nursemaid did not require so much serious schoolwork.

Over the years, all of Dandelion’s other charges had gone off and married, starting families of their own. Younger servants had come into these households to help tend the newborn babes. Eventually, only Hawthorne had been left in Dandelion's care.

Two months earlier, the young lass had announced to her parents that she was determined to go adventuring. Although not yet of age, Hawthorne had taken a fancy to the idea of a carefree life on the road. Her parents’ initial reaction had been one of horror. No respectable daughter of a well-to-do hobbit landowner would ever countenance such an unconventional lifestyle. Hawthorne’s mother, Hornbeam Proudfoot Brandybuck, had almost fainted at this suggestion since her daughter was just reaching the age when she should be trying to snare a young hobbit lad. Meriadoc Brandybuck, recently named Master of Brandy Hall, had finally intervened and, making certain assurances to the parents, persuaded them to let young Hawthorne journey to the West Farthing in the company of her old nurse. Letters were exchanged between Brandy Hall and Bag-end to provide additional guarantees for Hornbeam and Otto that all would be well with their daughter.

Yet all these trying details were far from Hawthorne’s mind as she pulled open the Inn door and peaked inside the Common Room. The place was filled with folk of every age and description, representatives of various peoples and lands. Hawthorne had never seen so many different folk gathered in one place. To be truthful, she had never even spoken with an Elf, but had only viewed one or two from a distance. As her eyes swept the room, she gasped in sheer surprise to see so many of the fair folk, tall and graceful and looking a bit melancholy, seated throughout the dining area.

[Teleri]

The food was very good. It was so good that it became difficult to remember the table rules, and one even wonders if table rules are to be used at counters, as well. The small man did not seem to mind any accidental slip of manners. Lily found herself warming to this kind stranger.

"I had never seen Hobbiton before today." he said, and took a puff of his pipe. The weed was Old Toby, though Lily nothing of such things as smoking.

"And what, may I ask, do you think of it, sir?"

"I think that it is as delightful as it's folk." Lily smiled at this complement to her home. "Halflings, or Hobbits, if you will, are by far the most cheering folk I've ever met. But there seem to be more than just Hobbits here..."

"Well, now, sir. It's a queer thing, these days, half the folk who're put up here at the Dragon-and I've heard tell it's the same at The Ivy Bush, too- are from the south and the east. And you know what, sir? Now my sister Rose, she don't believe me, but I think some of them are Elves, sir!"

"Elves, really?" He said, as one who is favoring a childs fancy. But secretly he was listening closely.

"Yes, Elves. Just like from the old stories. Fair folk, they are, and they talk as like to singing. Now there's a lady staying here, sir, and I think she must be an elf, but I'm afraid to ask her..." Lily flushed. "I'm sorry, sir, but I've gone and talked more'n I sould have."

"That is quite alright." He said, as he paid for the meal. "But now, please excuse me, for I have bussiness to attend to." He began to leave, then turned on his heel, and said "I don't believe I introduced my self. I appologize. My name is Gam Son of Giles. It has been delightful talking to you Miss Hornblower, and I hope to see you many times before my stay here is over." Then he left, and Lily hopped down from the stool, and went back to her little corner. She took out her Mallorn leaf, and gazed at it with wonder. She kissed the leaf, and whispered "Please let me find some mushrooms on the way home."

[Eothed]

"What brings you to this part, Sir?" she asked. "Well, I am Ranger and I have been wandering in the wilderness for a long time, around Ithilien and so.", Meneldur said, "And what brings you here, my Lady?"

Meneldur orderd another ale and he were happy that he maybe had made a new friend. He looked at Nuruialien that were just about the answer his question.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 10:06 AM January 05, 2004: Message edited by: Eothed ]

[piosenniel]

Green Dragon Inn Facts:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Other ongoing characters in the Inn:

Ruby Brown, Hobbit – not married – server and maid

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

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

Ongoing characters from outside the Inn:

Halfred Whitfoot – local Shiriff and Postmaster; his pony’s name is Dumpling.
_____________________________________________
Please Note:

No 'SAVES' are allowed in the Inn.

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

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

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

_____________________________________________


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

_____________________________________________

IT IS NOW LATE AFTERNOON HEADING TOWARD EVENING IN THE SHIRE.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 4:09 AM January 05, 2004: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

I want to remind Inn patrons of one of the Shire rules from The Red Book of Westmarch:

Short chat-style posts which encourage other players to post in a chatty style are also not allowed.

Be descriptive, and try not to use a lot of dialog.

Communication between players in the Inn is welcomed, but please try to enhance it with some descriptive writing. This is not a television show or a movie where we can see your character and the environment they are in. You need to provide that for us - not just the dialog of the scene.

Thanks!

~*~ Piosenniel, Shire Moderator

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 4:10 AM January 05, 2004: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Baruk Khazâd! Axes of the Dwarves!

DWARVES NEEDED TO RECLAIM MORIA!

__________________________________________________ ________________

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ NOTICE OF NEW GAME OPENING ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Amanaduial and Imladris invite you to look at the proposal for their new game:

~*~ Last Hope for Moria ~*~.

Click HERE (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/cgi-bin/ultimatebb.cgi?ubb=get_topic&f=19&t=000131&p=1#000013) for the Discussion Thread.

Read the proposal thoroughly, re-read the suggested parts of the Lord of the Rings trilogy, and take time to craft a good character and a well done First Post.

This should be a fun game! See you then!

~*~ Piosenniel, Shire Moderator

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 4:12 AM January 05, 2004: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Angel_Queen]

Ravon realized what she was doing."It sounds like Rohan is a wonderful place. Will you take me there some day?" Strands of her black hair fell down to block her eyes. She raised her right hand to place her hair behind her elvish ears.

"Lewis what do you say? Some day will you take me to Rohan? I would love to see your land... I'm sorry." She noticed that she had been rambling on and on. She looked down at the floor under her feet. The silence between them was making her feel uncomfortable. She raised her eyes to meet his, she smiled. Trying to bring back the conversation she reached to her side. Pulling the bread from the pouch she began to unwrap the leaves that surrounded it. "Lembas bread?" She broke off a piece and offered it to him.

Their hands met along with their eyes. Ravon didn't know what to say. Quickly she jerked her hand back. "I'm sorry about that." Ravon knew her words came out softer than she had meant. Her vision moved to the fire and then to the floor.

[mark12_30]

Lîs, also called Lîn

The solid dwarf marched up the road toward the Inn. Ornate dwarf-armor and heavy chain-mail flashed from under a blue cloak and tasseled hood; heavy boots thudded on the road. Axe handles poked out from various places. A heavy pack was carried easily, and bushy eyebrows hid brown eyes deep-set in a swarthy face.

After a long and weary journey, and many suspicious stares and distant nods, the dwarf approached the Green Dragon with mixed feelings. The food was a pleasant thought. The unpleasant thought was the Ale. It had been a relief not to have to drink it while on the road, but now, in order to maintain the disguise, it had to be done. Beard fixed in place, axe in hand, the dwarf nodded gruffly at the hobbit-lass that stood in the doorway, growling in a deep voice, "There now, lass, no need to come between a bone-weary traveller and the Inn's hospitality. Move along! This dwarf is hungry, thirsty, weary, and in none too fond of a mood. Inkeeper! Your finest ale!"

Several elves looked up, and carefully looked down again, on their very best behavior.

"I beg your pardon, I meant no offense, " said the hobbit-lass, stepping aside.

"None taken. But it's a long walk from the Blue Mountains to your Shire, and I'm thirsty. Ale! Ale! And what might your name be, lass?" The dwarf poked an axe-handle at the hobbit-lass.

"Hawthorne Brandybuck. And yours?"

"Lîn at your service. I'm travelling to Erebor; I've had more than enough of all those Blue Mountain elves-- Ale! Durin's beard, where is that Innkeeper?"

"Have you no patience whatsoever, Master Lîn?" asked the innkeeper quietly, coming around in front of the dwarf and holding up a large mug of foaming ale.

"None," growled the dwarf, grudgingly taking the mug of ale. Hawthorne watched as the dwarf raised the mug, sniffed at it, and then hesitated.

"It's the finest ale in the Westfarthing, " said the Innkeeper defensively.

"Bah, " growled the dwarf, and then with one more deep breath, downed the entire mug in one draught. The Innkeeper immediately took the mug, refilled it, and returned with it. The dwarf took several more deep breaths, and once again drained the mug, this time with a resounding belch and some spilled ale. The Innkeeper sighed, muttering "At least dwarves always pay, " and refilled the mug. Numerous elves and hobbits looked on with expressions of distaste.

A third time, the mug was drained, and this time more of it spilled down the dwarf's beard. But the dwarf did not try to wipe it off the beard; the ale ran freely down the dwarf's cloak til it reached the armor, where it was brushed at with a gloved hand. "Ahh. Now-- roast, and roots, and cabbage." The dwarf sat down at a nearby tab, and pushed the ale-mug away with a sense of finality and relief. "And a glass of red wine." Lîn looked around the room. There were men, elves, and hobbits, all very sociable and (except the elves) welcoming, but Lîn felt no desire to mingle. The disguise was much easier to maintain at a distance.

[nobody]

*A tall, saturnine figure, cowled and cloaked in jet-black cloth, stood outside the door of the inn. The upper part of his face could not be seen as the cowl was pulled low over his head, but ashen black skin could be seen twisted around a red-tongued mouth grinning evilly between two long black cheekguards.

Of old he was a servant of the dark lord in Utumno, but since the exile of Melkor, he had been wandering in the Forodwaith, lost, confused and berefit of his memory because of the Battle of the Powers. After many milleniums of disorientation, he had at last returned to civilisation. He now entered the inn and sat down in a shadowy corner, acquainting himself with the ways of civilisation again.*

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 5:42 AM January 06, 2004: Message edited by: nobody ]

[Fire-Galad]

Sindahir looked down at the floor. So Finwe had been to Mordor. She had heard stories of the place. Even though it was destroyed, the name still sent chills up Sindahir's spine.

Sindahir looked up as Finwe turned his head back to her. Then for no clear reason, Sindahir pushed past him and ran up the stairs till she came to her room. Without stopping to think, Sindahir threw herself onto her bed and started to cry. As she sobbed, Sindahir pulled out from within her shirt a gold and mithril necklace. The chain was made of gold and mithril links, but the pendent was the most interesting part. It was made in the likeness of two trees, one was made of gold the other was made of mithril. The branches and trunks of the trees intwind together. In the branches and at the heart of each tree, was set a diamond.

Sindahir knew the meaning of the neacklace. It was a family heirloom passed from the parent to the youngest child. Sobs choked Sindahir as she thought about her new found position. The head of the family of Fingolfin and all because of her bracelet. 'Wait, Finwe's older then me. He should be the head of the family not me. Why am I staying here? I should go to Valinor now, but can't I?' Sindahir knew the answer. She was in love, but with who?

Sindahir put the neacklace into her vest. She continued to cry until sleep took her and Sindahir fell into a dreamless sleep.

[Vicki]

Nuruialien tuck a piece of her blonde hair behind her left ear. She sighed. "Well I am looking for adventure. I was getting bored in Eryn Lasgalen. There was nothing to do there for me."

Nuruialien took a drink of her water. She shifted in her chair as she awaited Meneldur's answer.

[Melisil]

When Melisil finished the song, she closed her eyes for a moment, remembering the choir of elves she had heard sing it.

"You have a lovely voice," Eruisto commented, Melisil blushed slightly. "Do you sing often? We can talk as we walk."

Melisil nodded, and started walking to the door with him, a few hobbits watched wide eyed as they passed. "Thank you. Your voice is quite excellent too." she commented, "I sing when it is the time to sing. So sometimes yes, alot. And other times.. singing is not needed." she said, slightly saddened at her last sentance.

She was very tall when standing, her long, dark hair fell over the hood of her cloak which was laying on her back. She did not say anything more as they went outside, because truly, there was nothing more to be said right then.

[Galadel Vinorel]

Galadel watched as the elf maiden fled up the stairs. Peering at the male elf that sat still at the table, from which his companion had fled away from, Galadel sensed a strangeness about him. "He is a descendent of Lord Fingon, as he said that he was to the other elf, Sindahir, I believe she said was her name," thought Galadel to herself, "He must be. For he has the look of Fingon's people, and the air of royalty."

Galadel had heard all of the two elf's conversation to one another, though she had tried very hard not to. Her hearing was good, very good, for even now she could hear clearly all of the conversation of some dwarves, who were sitting in a corner, whispering to one another, and some other people, Hobbits, speaking of a treasure that had been found. "I think that it would do well for me to speak with him, " thought Galadel, "Yes, it would be best to speak to him now, and certainly not later, for that wouldn't do well at all."

Excusing herself from Autumn for a moment, Galadel slipped quietly over to behind the elf. Standing there, as quiet as a figure carven in stone, Galadel quietly bent down till her mouth was close to the elf's ear. "Greetings, Finwe, descendant of Fingon, will you a allow a Noldor elf to sit and speak with you?" spoke the elf maiden softly into the ear of the astonished elf.

Turning around, Finwe looked up at Galadel, elf maiden of Lothlorien, and said to her...

[Imladris]

Iris of Bree

“And you are?” Niluial asked.

With a roll of the eyes, Iris wiped the tears from her cheek and raised her head. She glared at the black haired woman; her green eyes narrowed, her lips froze into a small smirk. Arching a single eyebrow, she asked, “And why would you like to know?”

Niluial shrugged and said, “Because I would like to know you better.”

Raising the other eyebrow, Iris brought the mug of cider to her lips and drowned the draught. Glancing again at Niluial she said, “I don’t think it’s that. I think you want to be polite, make me feel welcome and invited.” With a little snort, she cast her eyes down at the table and heaved a sigh. “My name is Iris,” she said coldly. “I am from Bree and am only here because I ran after a twit of a blind girl who left her home in a temper.” A stifled laugh, mocking as she glanced up the stairs Elentari had climbed, escaped her. But the laugh quickly died, and Iris played with her fingers, her green eyes fixed upon the staircase. They had softened and had become an almost dewy green. She closed her eyes and bit her lips: Finduilas was so happy here.

[Gird]

Gird was hoping to make some friendly conversation, when the elf pulled out another dagger and placed it on the counter after a cold reply. Gird, felt that he didn't want to start any trouble, especially with the inn being so crowded. So, he turned away to sit back on his stool, but it had already been claimed, by yet another person coming into the crowded inn.

Oh, well that's nice. He thought to himself. Gird leaned against the bar and ate his newly aquired apple while he stood. As he finished it, Gird got up, and walked over to the fire to throw the apple core into it, while he said to himself a little rhyme he remembered. An apple a day...

Gird turned from the fire and noticed that the elf, Finwe, had gotten up from his stool and had walked away. Aha! He thought, as he speed walked over to the stool, A free chair!

When he got to the stool, he jumped up on it, with a bit of excitement. Too much excitement actually. Gird had jumped up so fast, that the stool itself tipped backwards, bringing himself with it. "Aiee!" he let out, as he fell to the ground with loud crash and a thud. He lay there on the floor for a second looking up at nothing in particular, a look of shock on his unshaven face.

"Ow."

[SonOfBombadil]

Lewis put his mug down, just as Ravon started to speak."It sounds like Rohan is a wonderful place. Will you take me there some day?" she asked "Lewis what do you say? Some day will you take me to Rohan? I would love to see your land... I'm sorry." Her soft elvish voice trailed off. Lewis was silent for a second, thinking. "I think that I should like to that." he said, looking at her. She looked up and she smiled at him.

Lewis then saw Ravon reach to her side and pulled something out wrapped in green leaves. Lewis looked curiously at it."Lembas bread?" she asked, answering Lewis' questions. She broke off a piece and offered it to him. "Oh, sure," said Lewis, "I've heard about it, but I have never tried it before."

As Ravon passed it to him, their hands met along with their eyes. Ravon quickly jerked her hand back. "I'm sorry about that." She said softly and looked away. Lewis noticed that she kept saying that. Sorry. Even though she had nothing to say it about in his mind. She was the most pleasant thing that had happened to him for a long time. It was good to get some nice company.

Lewis was brought out of his thoughts abruptly by the snoring of Eofeng. He had apparently nodded off whhile Lewis was talking about Rohan. Lewis looked back at Ravon and laughed.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Hawthorne Brandybuck

Hawthorne stared after the dwarf who'd interrupted her at the door. The fellow was gruff and a bit blustery for her taste, but evidently meant no real harm. In any case, Dwarves were far less an oddity in the Shire. Many times, she'd spied their trading caravans loaded down with goods, making their way along the Great East Road that skirted Buckland's northern border.

With Elves, it was entirely different. They appeared to be so distant, so far from the world that she knew. Their willowy figures and poetic manner of speech bore little resemblence to most folk around her. Even now, she glanced around the Common Room trying not to stare at the Elven folk, all the while wondering who they were, why they had come to Hobbiton, or whether they noticed that she was in the room. Just being in the presence of an Elf made Hawthorne very nervous.

Hawthorne's throughts raced back to a time almost six years before. One spring, when the Gamgee family had visited Brandy Hall, she had gotten up the courage to ask Master Samwise what Elves were really like. He had laughed at her, then turned serious and spent a moment pondering how to respond. When he finally spoke, it had been in a sad voice.

Did you meet Master Frodo, Hawthorne? She had nodded her head. For she did remember one time when Frodo Baggins had come visiting at Brandy Hall, a little before that business with the Ring. She had been six years old. He had sat with the younger children before the hearth one evening and had spoken in hushed tones of many different things... about a great jewel named the Arkenstone and the Elves of Rivendell with their beautiful house sitting on the very edge of the wilderness.

Hawthorne was not terribly good at remembering the words of stories. What she remembered best were pictures in her head. And the picture she held of that evening was not of jewels or Master Elrond or even of the Elves, but an image of Frodo the Storyteller. One moment, he would be solemn and pensive, lost in some other world where she dared not follow, and the next laughing and affectionate with the children, his eyes gleeming bright. He had a politeness coming from inside himself that was more natural than any she had seen.

So she wasn't surprised when Samwise turned to her and wagged his finger in the air, Hawthorne, you mustn't think that all Elves are the same for surely they are not. Still, there's certain things they seem to share. A look of longing, an easy grace, and a certain steady wisdom bound up with a heart that, if truth be told, can be as determined as any I've seen. He smiled over at her, and lowered his voice, as if confiding a deep secret. And if there ever was a mortal that had a piece of that Elven heart, it would have been Master Frodo. Bound and determined, yet still always longing. So, if you see and remember Master Frodo, you'll understand a bit about what it is to be an Elf.

Jerked back by that odd image to the reality of the Inn, Hawthorne smiled. For Master Frodo hadn't been strange or fearsome once you got to know him: just a little different than most other folk. Perhaps these Elves, although bigger in size, would prove equally interesting and approachable.

Hawthorne shook her head to clear away the silver cobwebs and trotted over to the bar, holding out a piece of paper with some words written on it that said a room had been reserved for them. Ruby read the note and nodded, "Mistress Aman is out for the moment. But this letter does seem to be in order. Let me check the list of rooms."

Picking up the roster, Ruby found the entry with Hawthorne's and Dandelion's names written down. Right beside the names, in the column just adjacent, were some scribbled jottings that said the two hobbits were to be given a chamber on the upper floor, what had once been the attic of the Dragon. Ruby wrinkled her brow and wondered. How very strange! Those rooms were usually reserved for staff and servants at the Inn. Although neat and liveable, the attic rooms were tiny, a tight squeeze for two hobbit ladies accustomed to living in a place like Brandy Hall, especially one adorned with as many fancy gewgaws as Hawthorne. She didn't look to be the laboring type.

But Ruby knew how to follow orders. She didn't mention her doubts to Hawthorne, but led the lass up the two flights of steps to a tiny chamber at the very rear of the Inn that overlooked a series of rather bedraggled gardens. Ruby pointed to two cots. A single chest sat on the other side of the room and a small table was lodged tightly in between the beds.

Ruby thought she heard Hawthorne mutter something furtively under her breath: that her bags and chests would never fit inside such a terribly cramped space. But Hawthorne had been taught manners, and said nothing directly to Ruby. She thanked the maid, and decided to wait till Dandelion made it to the Inn before taking up the question of the room assignment with Ruby's employer, who had obviously made a mistake. Before returning to the Common Room, Ruby slipped a hand into her apron pocket and gave two letters to Hawthorne that had arrived for them at the Inn earlier that week.

Once the door was shut, Hawthorne sat down on the creeky bed and wondered what could be keeping Dandelion. Several hours had passed since her own arrival, and still the nursemaid had not made her apearance with the cart. Too tired to think about bothersome details any longer, Hawthorne stretched out on top of the covers, thinking that an afternoon nap would be just the thing, and had soon fallen fast asleep.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 2:35 AM January 06, 2004: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Eothed]

Meneldur nodded and said;"So, you are looking for adventures. Well, I dont have any cause for being here actually. I felt that I just had to talk to someone, the lonely life is hard." Meneldur sighed and tapped his fingers in the table. It seems like she is hiding something, he thought. "Is something wrong, Lady Nuruialien?", Meneldur asked quietly.

Meneldur felt dumb. Of course it wasnt anything wrong. Or was it. Nuruialien finally opened her mouth and Meneldur waited for her answer.

[Galadel Vinorel]

Autumn, sitting at the bar, watched as the man tried to leap onto the stool a little too exuerantly, and had fallen down, stool and all, with a loud thud. Trying desperaely not to laugh, she huried over to him, and helped him to his feet. "Are alright, sir?" she asked, looking up, a smile forming on her soft face, and her dark blue eyes dancing wih laughter.

"Um, yes, thank you, miss," replied Gird, wincing as pain shot through him from the scrap on his elbow. Noticing the blood, Autumn quickly went over to Ruby, and asked for a bowl of water, a washtowel, and a bandage. After recieving these, she hurried back to where the man still stood.

Righting the stool, she had him sit on it, while she treated his wound, making sure that there was no infection. While she worked, Autumn looked up at the man and asled softly, "So, sir, if I may be so bold as to ask, what is your name? And what has brought you to the Green Dragon?"

[nobody]

The dark stranger's eyes ominously circumnavigated the room from under the black cowl. His diminutive pupils were revealed to be a cold, pale silver as they put the patrons in the inn under cruel scrutiny. He had started when the dwarf fell on the floor, since he had adapted to the serene calm of the frozen North well, perhaps too well.

He had been contemplating his past. All he could recall now, other than the barren Forodwaith, was an abyss, vast and dark beyond all measure. About it were lit great fires, and in lesser pits there were mighty armouries littered with black engines of destruction, and from the abbys there rose an evil shadow, dark yet shining like a pale frozen scepter, tall as a mountain and crowned with fire and smoke. Then he was shaken adruptly out of his trance by the sound of the falling dwarf.

[Angel_Queen]

Ravon began to laugh. She broke off a piece of Lembas for herself and then placed it back in her pouch. "So Lewis is Lembas as good as some say it is?" Ravon wished she could quit saying sorry all the time. Lewis was so sweet she thought. Yet she would always hurt herself. Like when she took this job to bring Cree back. She didn't want to do it anymore.

Ravon knew that getting away from Cree would do her good. Yet she didn't want to hurt Lewis when time came for her to go back to Eryn Lasgalen.Why does this always happen to me?

[Vicki]

Nuruialien sighed softly. I wonder how he knew? she thought. Nuruialien thought briefly about how to answer him.

"Well," she finally said. " Yes there is something wrong. I'm not just looking for adventure." Nuruialien looked around quickly, her eyes darting from one patron to another.

"I probably shouldn't say this but I know things I shouldn't. And I'm afraid to talk about it."

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 5:38 PM January 06, 2004: Message edited by: Vicki ]

[ShadowElf]

SAVE for reworked post.

Check your PM's (Private Messages).

Piosenniel, Shire Moderator

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 6:28 PM January 06, 2004: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Fire-Galad]

Sindahir awoke refreshed from her nap. "I'd better go and apologize to Finwe about running off like that." Sindahir stood in front of a full length mirror. "How can I be of the Noldor? I don't even look like one!" Sindahir remembered something her mother had told her when Sindahir had come running to her saying that the other Elven children wouldn't play with her.

Her mother had taken Sindahir in her arms and asked why. Sindahir said it was because she was too different. Her mother had then smiled sadly and told Sindahir to look at her. 'It's not what others make of you, but what you make of yourself .'

Sindahir smiled and took of her cloak to see more clearly what she was wearing. Her eyes traveled down from her white shirt, the brown vest with the two Trees, the last fruit and flower, the sun and the moon embroidered in gold and silver threads. Her gaze turned to the brown pants and deep green boots. "Well, this is as good as it's going to get, but something's missing." Sindahir then pulled her necklace outfrom its hiding place so that it now showed. Satisfied, Sindahir walked out the room and down the stairs. As she reached the bottom, Sindahir saw another Elf maiden talking to Finwe. Sindahir walked toward the back of the Inn as so not to be seen. The Elf said that she was a Nolodo like Finwe. Sindahir waited at her hiding spot, ready to walk to the table if she couldn't stand listening to them. 'Just until things get crazy.' So Sindahir waited...

[piosenniel]

All New Shire Posters:

Please read the Red Book of Westmarch, the first topic in the Shire. There you will find the rules for posting in the Shire and in the Inn.

Once you’ve done that, then create an interesting Tolkien based character and bring him/her to the Green Dragon.

Be very descriptive.

Remember – this is not television or a movie. We can’t actually see how your character looks, moves, interacts with the environment or other players unless you paint the picture with words for us.

Please be aware of the Inn Facts which are posted at the top of the recent Inn page, so your post will be appropriate to Age, characters, other miscellaneous facts, and time of day (though you will also need to scan the posts following this to see if the Moderator or Innkeeper has moved the time of day along).

You will want to read the most recent posts before yours to get a feel for what other characters are doing in the Inn.

Have a look around the Inn; have a drink; comment on what you see and hear; then try to interact with one of the other posters.

When you get comfortable doing this, then consider trying out for new games in the Shire. There will be notices for them posted in the Inn, and you can always look for new game Discussion threads that have opened up.

~*~ Piosenniel, Shire Moderator
_____________________________________________

Post HERE (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/cgi-bin/ultimatebb.cgi?ubb=get_topic&f=19&t=000072) to be put on our list for contacting players for games.

[Finwe]

Finwë sighed. He slumped further into the chair and massaged his temples with his long fingers. Why did he have to tell the Elf-maiden everything? Inside, he knew that she wasn't going to take it well, yet, that blasted impulsiveness of his loosed his tongue, and he found that he had scared her off. She was probably off crying somewhere, bewailing her misfortunes. He buried his face in his hands, and inwardly cursed his impulsive nature. He could be such an Elfling at times.

He withdrew his hands and took a look around the Inn. A Hobbits and Dwarves were giving him odd glances, and the few Elves seemed rather fascinated by him. It was then that he felt the Elf's breath on his ear, a moment before she began speaking.

"Greetings, Finwë, descendant of Fingon. Would you allow a Noldo elf to speak with you?"

Finwë smiled wryly and thought, Am I going to meet all the Elves in the North today?

"Of course, my lady. Please, do take a seat."

Galadel smiled and settled herself in the chair recently vacated by Sindahir. She leaned forward and whispered:

"No need to introduce yourself further my Lord, I know all about you."

[ShadowElf]

SAVE for reworked post

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 10:21 PM January 06, 2004: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Carlas]

Chica Goodbody opened her eyes, and was surprised to realize that she had fallen asleep at the table. Her mug, which she had finished, was gone, probably the innkeeper had taken it away to be washed. Chica sat up and looked about the inn. Nothing much seemed to have changed, but now light was spilling in through the windows of the inn, it was late afternoon! How could she have slept for so long, and at a table, and why had noone woken her up? She felt a fool to have gone to sleep at a table, she must have looked drunk. She hoped not too many people had noticed her...

Chica sat back in her chair, and tried to relax as she pushed her hair out of her face. She needed to think about everything that had happened this week. She had gone to visit her cousin, Murtle Burrows a week ago, and had spoken with many hobbits she hadn't seen for years. She had had a splendid time, but just two days ago her cousin hadn't shown up for dinner, and she had stayed up all night waiting for her. She had not arrived by morning, and Chica went on a frantic search, but she was due to be home that day, and her friends told her that she should go home, but they would keep looking.

She was deeply worried for her cousin Murtle, but she was smart, and knew how to take care of herself. She had been known to run off once in awhile, but while Chica was visiting...?

Chica sighed. She shouldn't worry, so instead decided to get a quick meal, and get home as soon as possible, she needed to tell her family of Murtle's disapearance, and if there was any news, it would be sent there. She pulled herself out of her chair, her body stiff and sore, and went to find the innkeeper.

[SonOfBombadil]

"So Lewis is Lembas as good as some say it is?" Lewis just then realized that he hadn't yet tasted the lembas bread. He swiftly put the peice into his mouth, taking in the new flavor. It had a soft, sweet taste, and it was very light, but when he swallowed it he felt as if he had eaten much more than just a bite.

"It is good," Lewis said."I can see why it is so commonly used for travelling. Light yet filling." He wondered to himself, if this is travel food, I wonder what they eat at feasts.

Lewis looked out the window, and realized that they had been talking for most of the day. Funny, he thought, how quickly time goes by when you're in good company.

[piosenniel]

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ NOTICE OF NEW GAME OPENING ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Niluial invites you to look at the proposal for her new game:

~*~ Hunted ~*~.

Click HERE (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/cgi-bin/ultimatebb.cgi?ubb=get_topic&f=19&t=000134).

_____________________________________________


A Hobbits only game!

The Discussion thread will open sometime this weekend to take on characters.

Until then read the proposal thoroughly, take time to develop a good character, and craft a well done First Post.

This should be a fun game! See you then!

~*~ Piosenniel, Shire Moderator

[Angel_Queen]

Most of the day I've enjoyed myself. I actually had someone I could talk to. Ravon looked out the window she noticed that pretty soon it would be a new day. She no longer knew what to say to Lewis. "So tell me some more about yourself. Its been too long since I've been in such good company."

She finished her drink and then sat back to listen to him. Ravon was fascinated by what came out of the mouths of men.

[Potatothan]

SAVE for re-worked post.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 6:53 PM January 07, 2004: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Eothed]

SAVED for re-worked post.

Check your PM's.

~*~ Piosenniel, Shire Moderator

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 11:24 AM January 07, 2004: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Galadel Vinorel]

Galadel, sitting across from Finwe was about to speak more, when the door of the Inn suddenly burst open with a bang. All heads turned as a cloaked elf hurried out of breathe into the room, his eyes searching for someone.

Spotting who he was looking for he ran over to the table where Galadel and Finwe sat, he bowed low to the elf maiden. "My lady," he began hurriedly, "There has been attack upon Lothlorien. Your father sent me to find you, and I have now been searching for nearly a month now. I am worreied that there may be no Lothlorien left when we return. Please hurry, Lady Galadel, there is no time to lose. I beg of you, please return home to defend your people."

Galadel stared up at the elf, her eyes wide, hardly believing what she heard. "Very well, Giladean," she answered at last, stading up out of her chair, "I will return with you to aide our city." Turning to Finwe, who sat motionless in his chair looking up at them, she said, bowing to him, "I must now return home, O' Lord Finwe. I am sorry that we were not able to speak further, as I would have liked to, but there is no helping it. If ever you happen to pass by the Land of Lothlorien, do not hesitate to come within. You only have to speak my name, Lady Galadel, Keeper of the City of Lothlorien, and my gurads will admit you." Finwe stood and bowed to the Lady.

Galadel then crossed the room to where Autumn was treating the injured Gird. "Autumn," she spoke softly, "Will you travel will me once again? And aide in the fight to save Lothlorien?"

Autumn smiled up at her friend and replied, "Of course, Galadel. It would be my honor to do so." Facing Gird, the hobbit said to him, "I am sorry, my new friend, but I must now depart. Be careful of that wound of yours. If I return, I hope to find you again in this inn, and here we will talk of the great events in the world. Is this fine with you?" Standing up, Gird smiled and nodded to the hobbit lass, and they bowed to one another.

Then the two friends departed with the elf messenger in hopes of reaching and saving the City of Lothlorien, before it was too late.

[Gorbadic]

A small hobbit walks into the inn and scans the room. His curly red hair bounces as he walks in and his cape swings back and forth. A look of bordom etched into his face means he needs something to do.

"Hello everybody."

Gorbadic gives a slight wave and goes over to a chair and climbs into it and sits all relaxed like. He lets out a sigh of relaxtion and contentment. "So how is everybody here today?"

_____________________________________________

Check your PM's (Private Messages) please.

~*~ Piosenniel, Shire Moderator

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 12:02 PM January 07, 2004: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[nobody]

The mysterious dark phantom rises from his seat and glides slowly to the newly arrived hobbit. He has never interacted with any of the periannath before, and their ways were unknown to him. He had felt a powerful impulse of curiousity when the halfling had entered, and wanted to find out more about its race. But his dark side, buried deep in the abstract shadows of the ancient past, was rising from its mental prison once more, rattling its spiritual chains hatefully.

The black shadow had urged him to return to the path of evil, but the impulse of curiousity proved too much for it to handle now, when it had just began stirring in the depths of the stranger's mind. The specter finally reached the hobbit, and greeted him in a low, menacing tone of voice that seemed unused to speeking
"Greetings, young perian. What brings you here this fair day?"

[piosenniel]

~*~*~*~ Baruk Khazâd! Axes of the Dwarves!~*~*~*~

One spot left open for a female Dwarf.

Orc Captain also needed.

Challenge your writing /gaming skills and give one of them a try.

__________________________________________________ ________________

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ NOTICE OF NEW GAME OPENING ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Amanaduial and Imladris invite you to look at the proposal for their new game:

~*~ Last Hope for Moria ~*~.

Click HERE (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/cgi-bin/ultimatebb.cgi?ubb=get_topic&f=19&t=000131&p=1#000013) for the Discussion Thread.

Read the proposal thoroughly, re-read the suggested parts of the Lord of the Rings trilogy, and take time to craft a good character and a well done First Post.

This should be a fun game! See you then!

~*~ Piosenniel, Shire Moderator

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 2:36 PM January 07, 2004: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Gorbadic]

Gorbadic looks over at the man who was talking to him. Gorbadic gets down from his chair slowly and walks over to him. He stands next to the man and says..

"Greetings man who I dont know. I have come today to relax and maybe get a drink of ale. Everyday is the same for me. I travel all day then I find a place to relax at."

The Hobbit shrugs and looks around for a place to get a drink.

[Gird]

Well this is rather embarassing. Falling on my back, in the midst of my glory of getting a stool again, thought Gird.

The hobbit lass returned, and righted his stool which was still on the ground. Gird swiftly sat down, as he was told in a no-nonsense voice. She then started to treat a wound (that he had not realized he had sustained) with a cloth, and water that she had just gotten from the inn. "Oh, look at that, I'm bleeding." noted Gird.

While she worked, she looked up at Gird and asked, "So, sir, if I may be so bold as to ask, what is your name? And what has brought you to the Green Dragon?"

"Well, I guess I can answer that for the treater of my wound," started Gird, "My name's Gird, and as for my business, I am just a traveller, going from place to place."

Gird was just about to ask her the same questions, when an elf came and said to the hobbit."Will you travel will me once again? And aide in the fight to save Lothlorien?"

Autumn smiled up at her friend and replied, "Of course, Galadel. It would be my honor to do so." Facing Gird, the hobbit said to him, "I am sorry, my new friend, but I must now depart. Be careful of that wound of yours. If I return, I hope to find you again in this inn, and here we will talk of the great events in the world. Is this fine with you?" Standing up, Gird smiled and nodded to the hobbit lass, and they bowed to one another.

As he watched her leave, gird thought. Well, that was a quick fare well. They're better that way anyways, no emotional scenes to make a mess of things.

Gird shrugged his shoulders and ordered another pint of warm milk, as if that happened to him alot.

[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman arrived at the hobbit's elbow as she recognised the familiar business-like scanning of the room that meant she would be looking for a server or the Innkeeper, two empty mugs in each hand. "You alright, my dear?"

"Ah, yes, can I-?"

Aman motioned for her to wait a minute, wincing as a great crashing came from the other side of the room as the peculiar man proved himself even odder by plummeting off a chair. As she continued towards the bar, beckoning Chica with a spare finger to follow, Aman's concern left her as the hobbit stood quickly, looking around slightly sheepishly before straightening his clothes and hair in an exaggerated manner. Aman grinned - such flamboyancy.

"You look tired, miss...?"

The hobbit looked startled as if just waking up again, before pulling herself onto a bar stool to see over easily. "Oh - Chica. Chica Goodbody."

Aman nodded politely, asking if Chica wanted a room. Just before the hobbit answered, Ruby appeared by Aman's side. "Ah, Miz Aman - there's a hobbit here, waiting in the maids quarters. From Brandy Hall?"

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 4:47 PM January 10, 2004: Message edited by: Amanaduial the archer ]

[ShadowElf]

Maikaalph entered the Green Dragon Inn and sat down at a table. He had come from the land of Lorien to see the Shire. People drinking, talking, or just sitting thinking filled the room. He knew it would be difficult to find the information he needed.

“I wonder what I’ll find here?” he thought. “I could just ask around. But… most of the people look like they want to be left alone. This could be interesting.”

Just then he felt as if someone was watching him. He slowly turned to look around the room. He noticed a man in a brown cloak with a hood covering his face glaring at him. Maikaalph reached for one of his knives, but then lowered his hand.

“I could get in a lot of trouble if I start a fight.”

He recognized an elf in the corner. “Sindahir” he thought. “What is she doing here?” The one person he hated to see. She was his biggest rival in any area. He stood up to walk over to her, but just then she noticed him and walked over.

“Maikaalph what are you doing here.”

“Just sightseeing.”

“Maikaalph you never go anywhere without a reason. I know you to well. What’s going on?”

“All right, I need to find the mayor of Hobbiton.”

“Why?”

“That’s for me to know and you to wonder.” He began to walk away.

“Maikaalph” Sindahir yelled. But it was too late. Maikaalph was out the door.

“I need to find Sam fast.” He thought then took of running…

[Fire-Galad]

Sindahir glared at Maikaalph as he ran out the door. 'I'm so going to kill him one of these days.' Now wasn't the time. Finwe was going to leave soon and she wanted to say good bye to her cousin. Sindahir ran out the door as well, getting annoyed looks from Aman. When stopping for a minute to give her a questioning look, Aman simpley pointed to Sindahir's belt. Sindahir looked down and remembered her two knives. Sindahir mouthed sorry to Aman and flew out the door. She was able to catch up to Finwe just as they were about to leave.

"Finwe wait!" Finwe turned his head.
"Sindahir what are you doing here?"
"I had to apologize for running away like that. If you think it was anything you said it wasn't." Sindahir took a deep breath before continueing. "It's just that I can't be the head of our family, you're older and you are a pure blooded Nolodor lord. Me, I'm...I'm only half Nolodo. The other half is Galadrim. You keep the bracelet." Sindahir turned to leave and go back to the Green Dragon.
"Sindahir catch." Sindahir turned, and instinctly, caught the bracelet on her arm. She looked up at Finwe. "No it's yours, keep it. Oh and another thing, it's not what people make of you, but what you make of yourself." Sindahir caught the saying but didn't say anything.
"Good luck in the fight cousin, Namarie," Sindahir repliad in her calmest vioce.

Finwe nodded to show that he aknowleged the farewell and Sindahir returned to the Greendragon ti await the time that Aman had appointed for tales. Sindahir decided that she would sing of her cousin and his journey to Lothlorien. Sindahir reflected back to when her father and Feanor were still alive after her mother had died.

Feanor had gotten into a nasty habit of teasing Sindahir. It was fine until one day Feanor made sure that he and Sindahir were out of sight before he had pulled out his knive and started threatening her. Sindahir did the last thing her brother had exspected. She had first thrown a small rock at his arm. After Feanor dropped the knive, Sindahir tackled him and that was the day that she ran away from Minas Tirith.

Sindahir walked into the inn, found a table at the back of the inn, and sat there. As she waited, Sindahir run her finger over the hidden button and pushed it. The gems twinkled back at her in the fire light. "Maybe Legolas did mean for us to meet. I can go to Valinor now, but maybe I'll stay so I can find out what Maikaalph's up to."

[ShadowElf]

Maikaalph stopped in his tracks and walked back toward the inn.

"Sam can wait till later."

He quietly slipped in to avoid Sindahir. He sat down at a table far from her. Just then Ruby Brown walked up to him.

"I can't help but notice that you seem to try to avoid that girl Sindahir. Why is that if I may ask.

"Aiya, does everyone notice that? But I'll tell you. The two of us were rivals. Always trying to best each other at anything we could. She always won at horseracing, agility, anything with speed. I always won at the archery contests, swordfights, and anything with combat. However, she has hated me ever since her mother died."

"Why is that?" Ruby asked.

"I was near her mother when she died. She has always blamed me for her mother's passing.”

“Laurelindorenean lindelorendor malinorelion orn-emalin” Maikaalph quietly said.

“What does that mean?” Ruby asked.

“It is a description of Lothlorien, my homeland.”

“Oh. I’m needed somewhere else right now. Goodbye Maikaalph.”

“Goodbye.”

He rested his head in his hands. How will I prove to Sindahir it wasn’t my fault her mother died? Oh well.
]Laurelindorenean lindelorendor malinorelion orn-emalin[/I]

[piosenniel]

Green Dragon Inn Facts:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Other ongoing characters in the Inn:

Ruby Brown, Hobbit – not married – server and maid

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

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

Ongoing characters from outside the Inn:

Halfred Whitfoot – local Shiriff and Postmaster; his pony’s name is Dumpling.
_____________________________________________
Please Note:

No 'SAVES' are allowed in the Inn.

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

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

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

_____________________________________________


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

_____________________________________________

IT IS NOW LATE AFTERNOON HEADING TOWARD EVENING IN THE SHIRE.

[piosenniel]

I want to remind Inn patrons of one of the Shire rules from The Red Book of Westmarch:

Short chat-style posts which encourage other players to post in a chatty style are also not allowed.

Be descriptive, and try not to use a lot of dialog.

Communication between players in the Inn is welcomed, but please try to enhance it with some descriptive writing. This is not a television show or a movie where we can see your character and the environment they are in. You need to provide that for us - not just the dialog of the scene.

Thanks!

~*~ Piosenniel, Shire Moderator

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 8:24 PM January 07, 2004: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ NOTICE OF NEW GAME OPENING ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Niluial invites you to look at the proposal for her new game:

~*~ Hunted ~*~.

Click HERE (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/cgi-bin/ultimatebb.cgi?ubb=get_topic&f=19&t=000134).

_____________________________________________


~*~ A Hobbits only game! ~*~

The Discussion thread will open Friday, 01/08, at 11 a.m., Barrow Downs' time to take on characters.

Until then read the proposal thoroughly, take time to develop a good character, and craft a well done First Post.

This should be a fun game! See you then!

~*~ Piosenniel, Shire Moderator

[piosenniel]

An additional reminder for all posters to the Inn:

There is to be NO VIOLENCE or USE OF MAGIC/MAGICAL GADGETS in the Inn, or on the Inn grounds.

Any posts containing such will be sent back to their owners and the space for them deleted.

~*~ Piosenniel, Shire Moderator

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 8:42 PM January 07, 2004: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Gorbadic]

Gorbadic watches as the Hobbit lass walks into the Inn with a hurt elbow. He stares at her with concern and jogs over to her as she sits down.

"Are you hurt badly, miss? Is there anything I can do to help you?"

As Gorbadic asks this he notices that the elbow is a little more bloody than he thought before. He thinks of what he can do and waits for her response to his question.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 2:19 PM January 08, 2004: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Fool Of A Took]

Ferdibrand removed his darkgreen hood and shook his long curly brown hair when he entered the Inn. Finally! I am here!, he thought. He walked slowly and softly over to a table and sat down. He sighed and stretched his legs. He then turned around and ordered a cup of tea. He heard a few dwarves behind him that were talking about how they should find treasures and get rich. But Ferdibrand had never been interested; he thought they just bragged all the time. After a while he got his tea and he started sipping on it.

He had almost finished his tea and wanted to talk to someone. He had never been out on any adventure and would love to hear about anyone else adventures. Unfortunately everyone seemed busy. He decided to order another cup of tea while he looked for someone to talk to. He sighed deeply and looked around for anyone that wanted to talk.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 12:40 PM January 09, 2004: Message edited by: Fool Of A Took ]

[Niluial]

Niluial watched the woman roll her eyes when all Niluial was trying to do was be nice! Can’t anyone ask people how they are now days? Niluial asked herself. She tapped her foot gently on the ground waiting for this woman to answer. The woman glared at Niluial “And why would you like to know?”

Niluial sighed deeply, does she ever stop? Niluial looked up at the woman’s grumpy face once again and shrugged, “Because I would like to know you better.”

“I don’t think it’s that. I think you want to be polite, make me feel welcome and invited.” The woman hissed. “My name is Iris,” she said coldly. “I am from Bree and am only here because I ran after a twit of a blind girl who left her home in a temper.” Iris hissed once again. Niluial’s nails dug into the table and she bit her teeth tight together, trying to stop herself from shouting. Niluial didn’t take any note of anything else Iris said or did. Niluial glared at the woman and thought, What should I do. Niluial got up “I have enough troubles to deal with at the moment!” Niluial shouted throwing the blood stained handkerchief on the floor “Why did you have to come along and make my day worse. Before you go sitting at strangers’ tables put a smile on your face; I can’t stand snappy people!” Niluial hissed at the woman, trying not to raise her voice again. She got up from the table and flicked her long black hair back. Niluial looked at Romenna and nodded, “Good day. I will hopefully see you around!” Niluial walked off and went outside.

Niluial looked around outside to find something to do or someone interesting to entertain her. She felt as though she was missing something or someone but wasn’t exactly too sure what. She found a large tree and sat under it. Niluial lay against the tree watching the sky, it was getting dark and Niluial could see the first star in the sky. Niluial smiled and forgot about the happenings of the past few days…. She looked at her pocket and said, “Oh Silma you know…” Niluial paused and felt her pocket “Silma?” She cried. “Oh my, I forgot about Silma. She is left with that warrior person um…” Niluial stopped to think. “Oh Romenna and that grumpy Iris,” Niluial sighed. She didn’t feel like meeting the people again but she didn’t want to leave poor Silma by her self. She got up and dusted her dress off. How could I forget Silma? Oh Niluial you can be such an idiot at times! Niluial hissed at herself. She flung her hair back and started to walk back to the Inn cursing herself on the way…

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 4:44 PM January 08, 2004: Message edited by: Niluial ]

[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman watched, bemused, as an agitated Sindahir sprinted from the Common Room, hair flying as Niluial, coming back into the Inn, flattened herself against the doorway to avoid being run over.

After serving the hobbit and signing her in for a room, she instructed Ruby to take her to it and the server consented with a smile, beckoning to the hobbit as she took the key.

The tantalising smell of venison was floating into the room - perfect, not yet an hour past noon, when lunch would be served. Well, it seemed as good an excuse as any to go and see this newcomer from Brandy Hall, no less... Checking there were no immediately urgent deeds to be seen to in the Common Room, the Innkeeper ducked out of the bar and started quickly up the stairs, humming a little tune she had heard from an elf earlier in the day. Going up the second staircase, to what would be the 'servants' quarters where the hobbit was staying, she walked along, drumming her fingers lightly on the wall. She had no idea why she was feeling in such high spirits; probably something to do with the weather, the day brightening up nicely.

Indeed, the sun through one of the slightly misty, round, unshuttered windows caught the reds in Aman's brown hair as she stopped outside the room she had designated to Hawthorne and she rapped politely three times. There was a muffled thump and a surprised sound from inside, then silence. Aman stood for a moment, unsure of what to do, then raised her hand to knock again. But before her hand could make contact with the door, it opened, her knuckles rapping on thin air as the Innkeeper looked down at the hobbit lass who confronted her, standing back slightly so she wasn't actually looking so much down at her.

The girl brushed back her finely styled hair, smoothed her (there was no other word for it) pretty dress, regarding the Innkeeper for a moment, as if looking her up and down. Then she beamed, holding out a small hand.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 4:42 PM January 10, 2004: Message edited by: Amanaduial the archer ]

[Orual]

Eruisto stuck his hands in his pockets as he walked with Melisil, looking up at the sky. The blue was fading into a painted sunset, and it was a comfortable temperature. There was a slight breeze, and he continually tucked his hair behind his ears, but it wasn't long enough to stay.

He breathed deeply, enjoying the clean, fresh air of the Shire. It smelled more pure than the air in Gondor, perhaps less stained by battle. He leaned his head back and pulled his hands out of his pockets. Feeling spontaneous, he flung his arms out at his sides, almost smacking Melisil in the process, and spun around a few times, laughing wildly. The clouds spun dizzily above him, and the trees and small, homey buildings whirled and blended together around him.

He slowed down to a stop, still laughing. He stumbled a little, and he couldn't tell what expression was on Melisil's face, as she was still a bit blurry. He tried to stop moving, and though he was still swaying a little, he planted himself and put his hands on his hips. "Some days you just feel like spinning around till you fall down, you know?" he said a little too loudly. A quirky grin was on his face, and his hair was all over, but he didn't seem to notice. He nodded dizzily and put a hand on his head, as though to stop the world around him from spinning like it did.

"Lovely day," he commented, as he continued to sway. He looked at Melisil, and wondered what he thought of him.

[Gorbadic]

Gorbadic walks over to the bar part of the Inn and ordered the bartender to bring him a glass of Ale. The bartender walks off and comes back with a mug of cold Ale. Gorbadic sighs and takes a sip of of the Alr and sighs loudly and smiles contently.Gorbadic walks over to the doorway and leans against its frame and heaves a little sigh. He turns around and looks out the door while taking sips from his mug of cold Ale.

Gorbadic watches as birds fly through the air and as rabbits run through the bushes. Sy Takes another big gulp of his Ale and releases a loud burp after taking the mug from his lips. "Excuse me." Gorbadic says this with abit of embarrasment. gorbadic shrugs it off takes one last big gulp from his mug of Ale and walks back in and sets the mug on the bar counter.

Gorbadic walks back to the door of the Inn and walks outside. He takes a big breath of fresh air as a light breeze blows by and makes his curly hair sway back and forth. Puffing out his chest and looking at the sky, the Hobbit turns around and walks bck inside of the Inn. Gorbadic walks over to one the bar stools and climbs on top of it and sits. He rests his head on the barcounter and hides his face in his arms.

[Melisil]

Melisil laughed as Eruisto spun. Filled with joy, she joined him. "Yes." she agreed, slowing down slightly. "It is a very nice day indeed!"

She just smiled for second, taking a breath of the fresh air. "Shire air is lovely, isn't it?" commented she, before she started dancing again.

Dancing around she felt the wind playing with her hair, her worries left her for now, and she felt very happy.

[Gird]

Gird saw a man in a green cloak come in, and order some tea, from the seat next to him. The man then looked around, as if looking for someone. Everyone does that, he thought, and they always skip those at the bar. This ends now.

"What kind of tea is it?" asked Gird, then took a sip of his milk. The green cloaked traveller looked at Gird, and asked, "pardon me?" Gird restated his question "What kind of tea is it? is it any good?" and then, "hi, my name's Gird," and he held out his hand.

Feeling sheepish that he almost forgot his manners.

[Gorbadic]

Gorbadic lifts his head from his folded arms and looks over at Gird with a smile etched into his face. He was drunk. Gorbadic tries to get down from the bar stool and but ends up falling to do the floor after slipping and hitting the floor hard. Staggering to his feet, he rubs his bottom in pain and holds onto the bar stool for support. Gorbadic lets go of the bar stool and walks in zigzags over to the door.

He looks outside and let out a stream of hickups and burps. He stares with his eyes narrowed and looking around at whatever was in front of him, even if it was nothing. Sy turns around and walks back to the bar area and staggers over to Gird. He looks up and pulls on Gird's leg and lets out a hickup followed by a burp which doesnt smell to pleasant.

Gorbadic looks up at Gird and grins stupidly. "Hello there buddy. Got any brew on ya. Make it strong." Saying these words with a drunken voice. Saying only what came to his mind. Only careing about the word coffee.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 12:33 PM January 09, 2004: Message edited by: Gorbadic ]

[piosenniel]

One spot left open for a female Dwarf.

Orc Captain also needed.

Challenge your writing /gaming skills and give one of them a try.

__________________________________________________ ________________

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ NOTICE OF NEW GAME OPENING ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Amanaduial and Imladris invite you to look at the proposal for their new game:

~*~ Last Hope for Moria ~*~.

Click HERE (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/cgi-bin/ultimatebb.cgi?ubb=get_topic&f=19&t=000131&p=1#000013) for the Discussion Thread.

Read the proposal thoroughly, re-read the suggested parts of the Lord of the Rings trilogy, and take time to craft a good character and a well done First Post.

This should be a fun game! See you then!

~*~ Piosenniel, Shire Moderator

[SonOfBombadil]

Lewis began to tell Ravon about his life in Rohan as a small boy, born to a blacksmith by the name of Eodain, and a his mother from Gondor. About his growing up in small towns, and then moving to Edoras at 13. It was four years later, when he found himself in the midst of the battle of Helm's Deep. Conscripted into what would become his new life.

After the War of the Ring, he had left home to do some exploring. The many races he saw during the war, inspired him to go out and see more of the world. Having just turned 18, and having lots of battle experience, he felt he was ready to take on anything.

"I've done a lot of travelling since then, meeting up with people, helping them. Fighting against foes along the way. Making good friends, and losing some too..." He trailed off. "sorry, I'm ranting again." He looked at Ravon, then looked down at his empty mug, and slid it away from himself.

"Well, we've heard lots about me, but not much about you. If I may be so bold to ask, what's your story Ravon? What's brought you here thus far?" He looked at her, awaiting stories of great wisdom, and beauty. Stories that he thought would be much more interesting than his own.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Hawthorne glared over at the woman standing opposite her in the hallway. Goodness gracious! This must be Mistress Aman, the lady Master Merry had spoken about earlier. This was not how Hawthorne had hoped to meet the Innkeeper. Her skirts were wrinkled from riding her pony and afterwards lying down on the bed to catch a little nap.

Even worse, her servant and companion was still missing, out somewhere on the road with all the chests and satchels packed into the pony cart. All her lovely jewelry and petticoats and fine bone hairbrushes had not arrived at the Inn. Pushing back a feeling of panic, Hawthorne reminded herself to be polite and try to make a good impression.

The hobbit lass beamed generously at the Innkeeper, holding out her hand, "Hello, there. I don't believe we've met. I'm Hawthorne Brandybuck...." She was careful to pronounce her last name slowly to make sure that Aman understood she was one of the famous Brandybucks, known for their wealth and good-natured antics, their general wit and charm. After all, the Tooks and the Brandybucks were the natural leaders of the Shire and Buckland; anyone would be thrilled to have one knocking at their door!

Hawthorne forged ahead, without waiting for the Innkeeper to respond, "Cousin Meriadoc, the new Master of Brandy Hall, suggested I might want to spend some time here, especially since his friend Mayor Sam is in the neighborhood, and we are not far from Tookborough, which is quite lovely for day trips. You must be Aman!" Hawthorne added with a bright smile. "Master Merry spoke highly of you."

"Indeed, he suggested that I might want to offer my services here at the Inn. I even have a letter of reference from him." She slipped her hand into the pocket of her embroidered vest and pulled out one of the sealed envelopes that Ruby had given to her, pushing it towards Aman.

Hawthorne confided in a matter-of-fact tone, "You know, I've never held a paid position before, but I know a great many useful things. I can play the zither and recite the names of all the kings of Numenor, which is quite an unusual skill for a hobbit. Nanny Cami made me learn that when I was but a small child. I'm not too good at figures, but I have plenty of experience dealing with servants and telling them what to do. I could help you run the Inn and make sure everyone does their job properly." She beamed over at the Innkeeper, at the same time crossing her fingers behind her back in hopes that this impromptu speech would bring her good fortune, and an immediate offer of employment.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 2:29 AM January 09, 2004: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Angel_Queen]

My story. "Well I'm suppose to be after a young elf that ran away from Eryn Lasgalen. You could almost say I'm suppose to take her back. Yet after so many years of following her and hurting myself I decided I couldn't do it." Ravon moved her hand to point out Cree. " You see she is doing so well here without being around her people. Since birth I've been taught how to fight with swords. I never wanted to do any of the girlie stuff. It never made me happy."

Ravon went on tell about how she had wanted to go to Rivendell with Legolas but they wouldn't let her. "So you might say I left Eryn Lasgalen for a while to complete my training. When I went back I was given the job to take a child named Cree back home." Just mentioning Cree's name made Ravon want to cry. "I don't want to take her back. I don't want to hurt myself any more. I've found happiness and it happens to be right here."

Long has it been since I've found happiness. Yet now that I have found it I don't want to give it up. She looked towards the fire and then looked back to Lewis. In the light of the fire Lewis could see a tear roll down her cheek. "Don't make me hurt myself again." It seemed as if Ravon was talking to herself. "Lewis, don't let me hurt myself again. I'm tired of it and if I did hurt myself it would end up driving me crazy."

She felt the tear roll down her cheek and began to whipe it away. It had been a long time since she had cried. She sat there just staring off into the fire.

[Gorbadic]

Gorbadic lays on the floor of the Inn and snores loudly from earlier befores drunkeness.It's still the same day in the Inn no day has passed. Gorbadic's eyes open up to see a young Hobbit standing over him with smile on his face. Gorbadic couldnt tell if the is young Hobbit was male or female. "Are you ok mister?" The voice rang out and Gorbadic could tell that this was a little male Hobbit. This youngens brown hair falls over his eyes as he looks down at the Hobbit on the floor. "Do you need help mister?" The young voice again rang out to Gorbadic.
Gorbadic nods and holds up a hand while the younger hand reaches out and grabs it, helping up the older Hobbit. "What are you doing here young one? Shouldnt you be with your parents or something right now?" Gorbadic says with a voice that says he is getting over the Ale from last night. "My parents are outside talking with some friends." Says the young one. "What is your name little fellow?" Gorbadic asks the kid. "My name is Jonifot Hollowoak, sir." Jonifot replys. "Well thanks for helping me up but you should get back to your parents Jonifot." "Ok mister, bye." The child known as Jonifot runs out from the Inn and runs around its corner disapearing.

Gorbadic stands up and walks over to the bar and climbs atop a bar stool and asks the bartender for a glass of water. The bartender returns with a glass of water like Gorbadic had asked for. Gorbadic begins to drink th water and feel better from last night.

[Amanaduial the archer]

As Hawthorne rattled on good-naturedly and proudly, from the moment she pronounced Brandybuck lengthily, Aman was unable to keep a half-smile from her lips, try as she might, as she recalled the relaxed, mischievious and often scruffy Merry. A flash came to her, of catching him one day, as he and Pippin entered through the tradesmens' door of Brandy Hall, tiptoeing carefully on muddy feet, and freezing as they saw her leaning against the door, before both shamelessly tried a 'winning smile'. Aman grinned inside herself, then sighed almost inperceptibly; both were now bound to such high fates, Pippin in line to become Thain, Merry now Master Meriadoc Brandybuck, Master of Brandy Hall.

All the time, Hawthorne kept up her cheery chatter, and Aman snapped back to the present guiltily, relieved when she realised she hadn't missed much, but was flattered at the hobbit's next words.

"...Master Merry spoke highly of you."

Aman was unable to stop her smile spreading slightly, foolish though she knew it was: the idea that the highly born little hobbit, always ready to talk and joke to all, had remembered her, and favourably, was indeed flattering. Passing a 'letter of reference' to Aman, Hawthorne took a second to beam again, clasping her hands behind her back as she watched the Innkeeper slit the fine, velvety-green parchment with a small knife from her pocket (not with the larger knife hidden in her skirts - not many of the customers would ever get to know that as there, and that was best. It would not do to terrify one of Merry's little cousins.

Bringing her hands back out, Hawthorne began to count her virtues on her fingers, and Aman rightly guessed that, despite her cheery demeanour, Hawthorne was indeed nervous, needing something to do. Aman listened before she started scanning the letter, first simply taking in the fine paper and writing, pleasing to hand in eye. She was beginning, despite trying to keep an open mind, a rather skeptical feeling about Hawthorne but sure, she seemed a good sort anyway, and a reference in the girl's speech to 'Nanny Cami' made Aman think (or hope, she wasn't entirely sure which) that she couldn't be entirely senseless.

My dear Aman...

Aman paused suddenly, looking sharply up at Hawthorne, realising what she had indeed just said. She hesitated, then started rather hesitantly, "Good with...servants?"

Hawthorne nodded enthusiaticly, her curls bobbing sweetly. "I should think so, yes."

"And..." Aman's slight sinking feeling was know becoming a deep-river diver. "...help me...run the Inn?"

Hawthorne didn't seem to notice her discomfort, nodding again. "Absolutely, Aman, I would be glad to help in managing the Inn." Aman couldn't help but notice the lack of the almost obligitory 'Miss' she had become so used to, and the word 'managing' creeping in. Strange, how she wouldn't have minded in Rohan, but this could be a bit of a handful...now how to handle it tactfully...

"You haven't held a paid position before though?" Aman queried gently and seriously, as if in a real interview. Hawthorne paused but only for the space of an eye-blink. "I'm sure that wouldn't be too much of a set-back," she hazarded. "After all, for someone of my upbringing and family..." she trailed off, and her hands had vanished behind her back again. Aman saw the sleeves of the dress twitching slightly, as if the girl was twisting her hands nervously. She regarded the hobbit for a moment, then held up a serous finger.

"I think," she began, looking Hawthorne in the eye. "I think maybe that a slightly lower position would be better at the beginning? Not to insult you, of course, Miss Hawthorne," she added hastily. "But I'm sure someone of your teaching and family will be able to understand. After all, there may be room for promotion, hmm? I don't suppose I need any help actually running the Inn at the moment, per say...but there is always help to be done around the place."

Hawthorne seemed thunderstruck, and opened her mouth to begin, but Aman got there first, as quickly as she could without being rude. "Excuse me one moment; I'll just read the letter. Have a little think about the idea, hmm?" Smiling briefly, she looked down to the fine hand, a voice forming in her head as she read, the voice of Master Merry.

My Dear Aman,

It has been years since our paths last crossed. I so enjoyed your visit and Pio's to Brandy Hall.

So much has happened. My dear father recently passed away and I have now taken on the duties of making sure things run well in Buckland. Sometimes I long for the old days, when my greatest headache was deciding whether to steal mushrooms or cabbages out of Farmer Maggott's gardens!

I am afraid I have a great favor to ask of you. The bearer of this letter is my cousin Hawthorne Brandybuck, also of Brandy Hall. She is a sweet, good-natured hobbit who has decided to go "adventuring". Hawthorne is a bright lass, but unfortunately has long been under the influence of parents who do not exhibit a shred of common sense. I am ashamed to admit that they too are my relatives!

Hawthorne’s own mother Hornbeam Proudfoot Brandybuck is a silly and frivolous lady whose only concern is how many fancy clothes she can cram into her wardrobe and how she can advance her children’s social standing. To this end, Hornbeam has schemed and plotted to attract half the landed bachelors in Buckland and the Shire as suitors for her daughter. Her father is a timid sort and goes along with Hornbeam's schemes.

Yet I believe there is still hope for Hawthorne. She has turned up her nose at the lads and longs to journey to 'distant' places. As a first step in that direction, I have taken it upon myself to encourage her to move out from under her parents' roof and try her luck elsewhere.

Although I could certainly supply her with funds for such a journey, I have purposely refrained from doing so. Instead, I have impressed upon her the necessity of finding suitable employment, although I am undertain if she understands exactly what that entails!

From my own experience, I can say that journeying to a distant place and having to stand up on your own two furry feet can have a very good affect on a hobbit's character. So I would beg you to consider hiring Hawthorne to help in the Dragon. You will find her eager, if a bit bungling. However, should she do any serious damage to the Inn, I will, of course, reimburse any and all costs..... After all, she is a Brandybuck!

Incidentally, she brings with her a servant and companion, one Dandelion Greenhand, who is a most sensible hobbit. Dandelion will keep an eye on the lass, but will give Hawthorne the illusion of freedom. She is a former nursemaid and will stay with the Gamgee family, helping Rose with the children.

I hope you can return to visit us sometime in Buckland. Please give my regards to Mistress Piosenniel if you should speak with her.

With Best Regards,

Merry, now Master of Brandy Hall
(How strange it seems to write that!)

The sound of Ruby's voice, telling her it would be ten minutes until lunch, came at almost the exact moment when Aman finished reading, her eyes lingering on the writing. Folding the fine green paper and replacing it in its envelope, Aman looked back at Hawthorne thoughtfully as she put the letter into one voluminous pocket, her head on one side.

"Hawthorne," she said thoughtfully. "Do you know anything about food?"

[Fire-Galad]

Sindahir unable to stand the indoors any longer, walked over to the door opened it, and walked out. As she walked to the stables, Sindahir thought about the last times she had seen her family.

Sindahir was running in a foot race against two Gondorian boys, Feanor, and Maikaalph. She ran as fast as the wind and left the boys far behind. After winning the race, the boys congraulated her, but Maikaalph sulked. The day was as beautiful as could be and nothing in Middle-Earth could spoil it. Execpt a band of Orcs. When They attacked, Feanor made sure that Sindahir was safe befor fighting. Sindahir had crawled over to the battle to watch and what she saw was horrifying. Most of the Orcs were dead or chased off, but twenty remained. Sindahir watched as her mother had given the Orc she was fight a killing blow when another Orc got behind her mother, stabbed, and killed her. Sindahir looked around to see if anyone could have saved her. Feanor, her father, and many of the other adults were giving chase to the Orcs. All execpt Maikaalph. He was just standding there doing nothing. Sindahir had jumped out of her hidding place and shot the Orc responsible for her mather's death.

Sindahir smiled ever so slightly. She had never been good at combat so that shaot had made Sindahir feel better. Only even to this day she had never forgiven Maikaalph for what he did. She then turned to two days after she had run away.

Sindahir was walking when she heard hooves behind her. Not wanting to be found, Sindahir hid in some bushes. Her father and Feanor came riding into veiw. the two of them talked for awhile before an Orc ambush attacked them. Both were killed in the fight. Not wanting to be found, Sindahir stayed hidden until the Orcs were far enough away that she could shoot at them and run. So that's what she did. Sindahir had to run for days until she reached Rohan There she met and befriended Snowstar. The two had shared many adventures and Sindahir became a crafty Ranger in her ways until they came to the Shire. So had ended that adventure and another had begun.

"Yea, another adventure." Sindahir whispered to Snowstar. The horse moved her head like she was nodding. "Oh, you think so too?" Sindahir walked out feeling lonely. "Am I so much like a Silvan Elf that no one will talk to me?" She noticed Melisil and Erusto enjoyong themelves. Sindahir rubbed her bracelet, the jewels gleamed like stars. "I wonder if Maikaalph's back from his talk with Sam. I better go check." Sindahir stopped, closed her eyes, and listened. Yes, there was. The sea always calling her and she always ignoring it. "Maybe my time has not yet come, my friend."

&lt;font size=1 color=339966&gt;[ 10:25 AM January 10, 2004: Message edited by: Fire-Galad ]&lt;/font&gt;

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 10:25 AM January 10, 2004: Message edited by: Fire-Galad ]

[ShadowElf]

Maikaalph finally snapped out of the trance he was in.
"Why would she think I was responsible for her mother's death." He started to think of that fatal day.

He had lost the race to Sindahir, like usual, and was showing his normal feelings about it. Then a horde oforcs appeared and began to attack them. I had fought long and hard. sustaining a few injuries but bypassing them to help the others. He had been near Sindahir's mother when the battle began and was there the whole time. Next thing he knew Sindahir was gone and her mother on the ground. The orcs ran and the others chased them, but he stayed behind. He wanted to help Sindahir's mother, but it was too late, she was beyond aid. Her last words were, "Maikaalph tell Sindahir I'm sorry." She then slipped out of life. Sindahir then appeared behind me angry as ever. She yelled something about the death being my fault. I just ignored her. When she drew her knife, I knew what I had to do. I gave her a quick swipe to knock her blade away, mounted my horse, and rode off.

"I need to tell Sindahir the truth." he said
With that he got up to go see Sindahir but she was gone. "I'll just wait for her."

[piosenniel]

~*~*~*~ smilies/smile.gif NEW GAME DISCUSSION THREAD NOW OPEN smilies/smile.gif ~*~*~*~

Niluial invites you to look at the proposal for her new game:

smilies/biggrin.gif ~*~ Hunted ~*~ smilies/biggrin.gif.

~*~ A Hobbits only game! ~*~

Click HERE (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/cgi-bin/ultimatebb.cgi?ubb=get_topic&f=19&t=000134).

This should be a fun RPG! Come join in!

~*~ Piosenniel, Shire Moderator

[Fool Of A Took]

Ferdibrand Took

Ferri that were bored and had been sitting by the table alone for a while rose up from his chair and walked over to the bar. He sat down on a chair. Maybe there is someone here who whants to talk with me he thought. He ordered an ale and he looked around himself. He got the feeling that someone were looking at him. He couldn’t see anyone looking at him, but the feeling were still there.

After a while he got his ale and he started drinking. Someone is watching me. I wonder who or what it is. he thought. He took his hood up and tried to not look behind him. He drew the hood closer around his head and moved closer to the bar disk. I am getting tired of this! I am so silly! Of course anyone wouldn’t be watching me!? I am not that interesting. he thought and shook his head.

[Finwe]

Finwë drew his hood back up over his face and got up. It was high time that he left. Enough strange things had happened to him today, and frankly, he did not want to meet any more long lost relatives or well-wishers, no matter how eloquent or beautiful they were. He made his way between the tables, nodding to some other patrons who lifted their mugs in a salute.

As he walked out the door, he caught the innkeeper's eye for a moment, smiled, and quickly bowed. Anor's dying rays lit up the surroundings with a rose-gold tint. Finwë strode to the stables and went to find his horse. The stable boy had indeed been trustworthy. His horse had been fed, watered, groomed, and rested. Finwë gently wound his fingers in the horse's mane, and led him outside. Once they had cleared the entrance to the stable, and after checking that all his belongings were with him, Finwë swung up on the horse and galloped south on the road. Yes, he would go to Minas Tirith after all. It had been a very long time since he had last seen the White Tower.

[Fire-Galad]

Sindahir opened her eyes. "I guess I should go check now." Sindahir walked back to the Inn. When she got in, Sindahir saw Maikaalph sitting by himself. 'Well here goes nothing.'
Sindahir walked over to him and in a chair on the other side of the table. "Back so soon, Maikaalph?" Maikaalph looked up and started to talk in a calm voice.

"Sindahir, I have to..." What ever Maikaalph was going to say, he didn't finish because Sindahir had just inturupted him.
"Don't ever talk to me like that. I thought when I ran away, I had left not only my brother, but you as well. I tried to forget that day, to forget what you did!" Sindahir, raised her left hand, ready to smack him. Maikaalph, thinking fast,grabbed her wrist and stared at her bracelet.
"Where did you get that?"
"It's none of your business," hissed Sindahir trying to get her hand free. "I got it from my father before I ran away." Maikaalph let go of Sindahir's wrist and continued his story.
"I didn't kill your mother. I stood by her through the whole fight. I looked away for just a moment to see where you were and she was all ready dying. The last thing she said was 'Tell Sindahir, I'm sorry.' I didn't know what it meant but maybe you do." Sindahir bowed her head.
"What she meant was that she was sorry for a fight that we had. I'm not going to tell you what it was exactly, but it about my liniage and my apperance." Sindahir leaned back in her chair. "so that's why I'm here, but I'm interested in your reason for being here." Maikaalph looked around the room before starting.
"Well...um I... it's a little hard to explain and I dodn't think you'll get it." Sindahir fixed him with one of her stares.
"Try me."

[Gorbadic]

Gorbadic finishes off his last drink of water and feel not just refreshed but no longer drunk. Gorbadic, such a fool to get drunk. Gorbadic slowly walks over to table near the door way wand sits at the table. He taps his fingers on the table in the toon of some Elvish music he heard three years ago. He still thinks of the toon since it was the toon he heard right before his uncle, who had raised him as a baby and tought him to farm, died.

Gorbadic stops tapping his fingers on the table and sighs loudly trying to figure out what to do. Gorbadic stands up and walks back up to the bar counter and asks if they have any s. The bartender nods without saying a single word and dissapears. When the bartender returns he is holding a small bowl filled with fried s. "Thank you." Gorbadic says this with a voice that the bartender knows is truly thankful.

[piosenniel]

~*~*~*~ smilies/smile.gif 2 FEMALE HOBBITS NEEDED! smilies/smile.gif ~*~*~*~

Niluial invites you to look at the proposal for her new game:

smilies/biggrin.gif ~*~ Hunted ~*~ smilies/biggrin.gif.

~*~ A Hobbits only game! ~*~

Click HERE (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/cgi-bin/ultimatebb.cgi?ubb=get_topic&f=19&t=000134).

This should be a fun RPG! Come join in!

~*~ Piosenniel, Shire Moderator

[Fool Of A Took]

Ferdibrand Took

Ferdibrand finished his ale quickly and jumped down from the chair. He didnt feel safe. He walked over to table he sat by before and removed his hood as he sat down. He shook his hair and then sighed. He started being hungry, so he decided to order some food. He some ordered some ribbs and ale and sat down once more. He scouted the Inn and tried to see if anyone really were watching him. Again he got angry at himself for being so paranoid. After a while he got his ribbs and ale. He loved ribbs. Especially with potatos.

He finished his meal and leaned back in the chair. Maybe I should go to the Common room to see if anyone whants to talk there. I would like to hear how people have it around here now. It was so long since I last was here. he thought slowly rose from his chair. He walked over into the Common room and sat down in one of the comfortable armchairs close to the fireplace. He noticed that someone sat beside him but he didn't say anything. I should say something, he thought. Wasn't that the reason I came here in the first place.

[Thengal]

Breylo studied the hobbit,who had just sat down next to him by the fire in the common room next to him, closely. Breylo smoked his pipe thinking deeply, thinking about the nervous look on the hobbit's face and then studying the eviroment around the inn.

"Awfully paranoid for a hobbit with a full belly," thought Breylo. He pondered on the thought for what seemed like a lifetime as he gazed into the fire. "This could be the one I'm looking for," he thought. Then, suddenly the hobbit spoke up.....

[ShadowElf]

"I hate it when she does this." Maikaalph thought. "At least I told her the true story of her mother's passing. "Ok, here's the story.There is something I've been trying to find here." he began.

"What?" Sindahir asked curiously.

"The need to talk to Sam was just a decoy to throw people off my track. You see I left Lothlorien with a mission. I was going to find my way here to the Shire. King Eomer has sent me to find a man here. He said he wants to know if he is loyal to Rohan or will betray it." He paused to take a sip of ale. and look around. "However, I found him before I came here. He was about to betray Rohan, I could tell. When I told him I came from the Riddermark he attacked me saying "the Riddermark wil fall."

Maikaalph suddnely realized that a crowd had gathered to hear his tale.

"Here's what happened."

I was chasing him for days, when he arrived at Amun Sul. When I approached him he must have guessed my motives because, as I said, he attacked me. We fought atop the old fortress for what seemed like hours giving and taking blows. After a long time I knocked his blade out of his hand and quite far away. As he ran for his sword I fired a quick shot from my bow and killed him. I dug a small hole outside Amun Sul to burry him. Then, feeling the pain from my wounds came here. I plan to leave for Rohan in a few days.

Just then, Ruby came by and dropped two mugs of ale in front of them.

"On the house," she said. "A tale like that deserves this."

"So Sindahir what have you been up to?" Maikaalph began

"Well..." Sindahir began.
____________________________________________

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 8:13 PM January 10, 2004: Message edited by: ShadowElf ]

[piosenniel]

Please Note:

This request is found at the top of this page -

I want to remind Inn patrons of one of the Shire rules from The Red Book of Westmarch:

Short chat-style posts which encourage other players to post in a chatty style are also not allowed.

Be descriptive, and try not to use a lot of dialog.

Communication between players in the Inn is welcomed, but please try to enhance it with some descriptive writing. This is not a television show or a movie where we can see your character and the environment they are in. You need to provide that for us - not just the dialog of the scene.

Thanks!

~*~ Piosenniel, Shire Moderator

I want to see posts that have more descriptive prose in them, and less dialog.

Posts in the Inn which contain mostly or only dialog will be returned to their posters to be revised.

~*~ Piosenniel, Shire Moderator

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 6:00 PM January 10, 2004: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[SonOfBombadil]

Lewis listened as Ravon told him her story. It was a sad story, full of sadness and hurt. In the light of the fire Lewis could see a tear roll down her cheek. Ravon spoke, almost to herself, "Lewis, don't let me hurt myself again. I'm tired of it and if I did hurt myself it would end up driving me crazy."

As the tear rolled down her cheek, she wiped it away and looked towards the fire. Lewis looked at Ravon and spoke. "Ravon, to see you hurt is the last thing I want to happen." She turned, and they looked into each others eyes. "I wont let you get hurt," he said with smile forming on his face.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 1:13 AM January 11, 2004: Message edited by: SonOfBombadil ]

[Everdawn]

Sírabel and Lanus

Lanus and Sírabel had been talking all day about mainly mindless things, but she did feel as though she had made a life-long friend. However, now a seed of doubt was planted in her mind. What things had Lanus not told her of himself? And moreover, why did he not share them with her? She supposed that they were embarrasing, but them again, Lanus had left the Gondorian Army.

"What are you thinking about?" asked Lanus form across the table, Sírabel did not easily hide when something was troubleing her.

"Nothing, my head just hurts, is all." she smiled, but Lanus was not fooled.

"You a very bad fibber, my girl." He knew that it was he who was making her worry, and he knew exactly what it was about. Why should i tell her, she would probably just mouth off to the next person she chats to about it. Though there was genuine concearn in her eyes. Perhaps i will tell her tomorrow. He smiled and patted her hand.

"It's late" he said raching for his cloak which he had put on the seat beside her. "Ive had my day off, and ive spent all of it, and the night before talking with you." Sírabel gasped as if she were hurt. Lanus smiled. "And i have to ride once more tonight for another client."

"Why?" she asked.

"Becuase i have to earn a living Miss Delone. Not to worry, ill come back and have tea with you tomorrow evening, and then i shall tell you somehting you dont know." He stood up and put some coins on the table. "This will pay for all we have drunk this last while, Ill see you tomorrow evening Miss Delone." and he mock-bowed.

"Bye Lanus," she said nursing her head. "You better come back or youll never hear the end of it." she had not noticed his attempt at making her angry once more but glanced up in time to see his dark head leave the Inn. "Great" she said. "What now?" she thought for a while whilst tapping the coins on the table.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Do you know anything about food?

Hawthorne gazed warily over at the Innkeeper, uncertain how she should respond. Like most young hobbits, Hawthorne knew a great deal about the consumption of food. She never missed a second breakfast and would normally load down her supper plate with all manner of interesting things to eat. But surely this was not what Aman had in mind.

How could she possibly give a truthful answer? Her mother had neglected to teach her anything about what goes on inside a kitchen. Most young hobbits, even the lads in the family, have assigned chores that require them to help out at suppertime with a whole range of tasks from peeling vegetables and skinning conies to learning how to build a blazing fire in the grate and turning a batch of mushrooms into a tasty pie. Hawthorne did not know how to do any of those useful things. Her mother employed several Harfoot servants to cook the meals and serve the food and keep their apartments at Brandy Hall neat and tidy. Hornbeam considered her daughters to be above such mundane tasks and made it a point to tell that fact to everyone she met.

Yet if Hawthorne confided the truth to the Innkeeper, she would never secure employment and, lacking funds, might even be sent home in disgrace. Nor did Hawthorne care to fabricate a past she'd never had. She had a basic sense of right and wrong and did not like to go against that.

There was a long pause in the conversation as the lass desperately fidgeted with her fingers and searched for something to say that would gain her an offer of employment while still containing just a smidgeon of truth. Hawthorne promised herself that, once she actually secured a position, she would figure out how to do the cooking she needed. All the young servants at Brandy Hall helped with dinner preparations. Surely a bright Fallohide lass, especially one with the last name of Brandybuck, could do as good a job as any fourteen-year old Harfoot scullery maid.

Hawthorne's eyes brightened as a tiny seed of an idea blossomed inside her mind. She turned to Aman, curtseyed, and smiled, "Oh, yes, Mistress Aman. I do love a variety of foods, but my specialty is fish." At this point, the lass launched into a long tirade on the merits of various fish, where and how to catch them, and delicious dishes that could be made from each variety.

Like many youngsters growing up in Buckland, Hawthorne had spent more time at the local swimming hole than anywhere else. On many a summer afternoon, she could be found splashing about in the water or rowing out in her little boat to try and catch some fish. The river Brandywine was as familiar to her as the back of her hand. Yet with all this fishing and having fun, she had never learned to clean a fish in her entire life and knew nothing about how to prepare the dishes she'd described. Hawthorne merely presented her string of fish to the servants, and they took care of the rest. Yet, however misleading an impression she had created for the Innkeeper, technically, Hawthorne had not told any lies.

"I am sure I can help you, Mistress Aman," Hawthorne added, sounding confident and knowledgeable, "There's a lovely pond out in back of the Inn and the Water itself runs due east. I could use my nets and lines to catch an interesting mess of fish and prepare them for all the guests at the Dragon to enjoy." She beamed over at the Innkeeper, waiting for her response.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 9:49 AM January 11, 2004: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Fool Of A Took]

"Nice fireplace, isn't it?" Ferdibrand said and nervously fingered on a pendant he had around his neck. Calm down now, Ferdibrand!, he thought and tried to take deep breaths. "Well, I guess I should introduce myself. I am Ferdibrand Took from Hobbiton. And you?"

Ferdibrand started to study the person left to him. He looked at his face and saw that he stared into the fire. Ferdibrand didn't whant to look unpolite so he stopped look at him. Suddenly he turned to Ferdibrand and opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again. Ferdibrand awaited with excitment his answer.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 6:57 AM January 11, 2004: Message edited by: Fool Of A Took ]

[Will Witfoot]

Fungrim emptied the rest of his mug and belched, managing to draw a couple of reproachful looks from the ladies in the crowd. He shrugged mentally and wiped his mouth with his beard, what they thought about his table manners was none of his concerns. He decided to go someplace more comfortable and ordered yet another jack, which the barmaid handed him with a glance that seemed to say: Any troublemaking, mister, and I'll have you dragged out by your beard. He felt amused. Bold thoughts, he thought, by someone who was in no condition to fulfill them.

He rose from the bar-stool and made his way to the common room. He felt slightly tipsy, but then again he had thrown down quite a few pints allready. As good ale was hard to come by in the wildernes it was sensible to make the most of his stay here.
Dwarfs were by nature able to endure more alcohol (and other things) than any other race of the free peoples. After so many a jack a human would be singing high as a girly elf, and an elf would be sorely regretting ever stepping inside the inn in the first place. Fungrim felt only slightly tipsy as of yet.

Finding a free seat at one of the armchairs around the fireplace he tamped some of his prized tobacco into his pipe. He lit it with a burning twig from the fireplace, and as he inhaled the rich smoke, the words and melody of an ancient song started drifting into his mind. Quietly he started singing at first, but his voice gathered strenght with every word. Soon the words echoed from his throat like it did in the ancinet, cavernous halls of the dwarfs.

The world was young, the mountains green,
No stain yet on the Moon was seen,
No words were laid on stream or stone,
When Durin woke and walked alone,
He named the nameless hills and dells,
He drank from from yet untasted wells,
He stooped and and looked in Mirrormere,
And saw a crown of stars appear,
As gems upon a silver thread,
Above the shadow of his head.

The world was fair, the mountains tall,
In Elder Days before the fall
Of mighty kings in Nargothrond
And Gondolin, who now beyond
The Western Seas have passed away:
The world was fair in Durin's Day.

A king he was on carven throne
In many-pillared halls of stone
With golden roof and silver floor,
And runes of power upon the door.
The light of sun and star and moon
In shining lamps of crystal hewn
Undimmed by cloud or shade of night
There shone for ever fair and bright.

There hammer on the anvil smote,
There chisel clove, and graver wrote;
There forged was blade, and bound was hilt;
The delver mined, the mason built.
There beryl, pearl, and opal pale,
And metal wrought like fishes' mail,
Buckler and corslet, axe and sword,
And shining spears were laid in hoard.

Unwearied then were Durin's folk;
Beneath the mountains music woke;
The harpers harped, the minstrels sang,
And at the gates the trumpets rang.

The world is grey, the mountains old,
The forge's fire is ashen-cold;
No harp is wrung, no hammer falls;
The darkness dwells in Durin's halls;
The shadow lies upon his tomb
In Moria, in Khazad-dûm.
But still the sunken stars appear In dark and windless Mirrormere;
There lies his crown in water deep,
Till Durin wakes again from his sleep.

The last words sounded from deep within his throat, ringing like the horns of the dwarfs in the mountain halls old as the high peaks themselves. Fungrim thought about the life which had been denied him when he was cast out of the hold with threats of death and harsh words echoing in his ears. He felt tears trying to battle their way into his eyes and got up and made for the door.

Once outside he bursted into bitter, silent tears, weeping for the life which he had lost.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 6:56 AM January 11, 2004: Message edited by: Will Witfoot ]

[The Perky Ent]

Hamfast chased after Fungrim outside the Inn. He saw him sitting on a bench weaping. Hamfast approached Fungrim slowly. The day grew cold.

Slowly Hamfast approached Fungrim and said "Uh, Fungrim? Remember me? Hamfast? We talked a while ago? I loved that poem. It inspires me so. It teaches me wonders.

With a burst of his stomach Hamfast spoke to Fungrim: "is there anyting else you can teach me?"

[Thengal]

"Well, that's very interesting" thought Breylo as he relite his pipe. The hobbit seemed to be interested in him. "Maybe I'll test him...."

"How go things in Buckland," Breylo said using the test question he was instructed to use. He anticipated the expected ansewer, if this was even the one he was looking for. Breylo looked intently at the hobbit trying to read his reaction to the question. He waited for him to say,"The mushrooms were good this year."

[Eruantalon]

after meeting his friend on the road. The not so strange stranger asked him if he knew anywhere they could find food. He smiled a broad grin. One that he used often in the taveren.

I know a place that serves fine ales and good food. I'll take you there Irewnath. They strolled for not long. Over some hills and down some paths. Over and under they whent. Then finaly they found there spot.

Throw the doors of the green dragon. Then to a table where he saw a familar face. He smiled back and they made there way over for a talk and a pint. He couldn't help but smile when he came here. Good food, good friends, and most of all the best ales.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 1:42 PM January 11, 2004: Message edited by: Eruantalon ]

[Fire-Galad]

"Well, I'm here to relaxe if you want to know," Sindahir replaid calmly. "But I was just considering going to Minas Tirith for some information from a friend." Sindahir sat back in her chair smirking to herself. Maikaalph studied her face before answering to her words.
"Is the friend by any chance...oh I don't know...say...Legolas?" That nearly caught Sindahir completly offguard. She however was able to hid it.
"Maybe he is and maybe he isn't. It's none of your business." Maikaalph smiled.
"All right, but what about the adventures you had? Did you need to get rescued?"
Sindahir glared at him.
"No, I did need alittle help at the start, but not later. If you want to, I'll tell you." Many of the listeners nodded so Sindahir started.

"It started four days after a little encounter with some Orcs. I had crossed into Rohan, the home of the horse lords and their king Eomer, when I saw a wild meara. "

Some of the humans were from Rohan and they knew that mearas normally didn't run wild. Sindahir countinued with her story.

"The meara seemed to know I needed help so she aloud me to get on her back. We were able to escape from the Orcs and arrived at Edoras, the main city of Rohan. As I rode into the city, the people gave me strange looks until I dismounted and walked into the Golden Hall. There when I asked about the reaction I received, Eomer explained that the meara I was riding always stayed to herself and never would let anyone ride her. He then said her name was Snowstar and that her father was Shadowfax. I stayed at Edoras for a week and rode away on Snowstar in the direction of the Gap of Rohan. After I passed through, I lost my way and wandered into what remained of Rivendell. I stayed there longer than I meant to for the only place outside of Gondor that I went to before this was Rohan and I was very curious about the history of my people. I was mainly interested in the place where the shards of Narsil were kept. After two months, Snowstar and I left and we wandred thourgh the wlidreness for sometime, sayed in Bree for a little, eventually coming to the Shire and we've been here since."

Sindahir stopped, she rarely ever talked this much about herself. She looked around at the group waiting for them to do something.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 2:43 PM January 11, 2004: Message edited by: Fire-Galad ]

[piosenniel]

Green Dragon Inn Facts:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Other ongoing characters in the Inn:

Ruby Brown, Hobbit – not married – server and maid

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

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

Ongoing characters from outside the Inn:

Halfred Whitfoot – local Shiriff and Postmaster; his pony’s name is Dumpling.
_____________________________________________
Please Note:

No 'SAVES' are allowed in the Inn.

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

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

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

_____________________________________________


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

_____________________________________________

IT IS NOW LATE AFTERNOON HEADING TOWARD EVENING IN THE SHIRE.

_____________________________________________

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 3:10 PM January 11, 2004: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

I want to remind Inn patrons of one of the Shire rules from The Red Book of Westmarch:

Chatty-style posts which encourage other players to post in a chatty manner are discouraged.

Be descriptive, and try not to use a lot of dialog.

Communication between players in the Inn is welcomed, but please try to enhance it with some descriptive writing. This is not a television show or a movie where we can see your character and the environment they are in. You need to provide that for us - not just the dialog of the scene.

Posts with excessive dialog and little descriptive prose will be returned to their writers for revision.

Thanks!

~*~ Piosenniel, Shire Moderator

[ShadowElf]

"Thats it?" Maikaalph wondered as he looked around. Suddenly a dwarf appeared and sat at the table.

"This doesn't sound like you Sindahir." he said drinking his ale. "Your tales are normally more exciting."

"Fain what are you doing here?" Maikaalph asked.

"Looking for you." Just then Fain noticed the crowd of listeners gathered around the them. Maikaalph tell them one of your tales.

"All right. Maikaalph began.

I was riding back to my homeland of Lothlorien from a visit in Arnor when I noticed the elves of Lorien prepared for a battle. In my absence Lorien had been attacked. I took my arms and fought alongside my friends to hold back a second assault, and also a third. The third assault almost claimed my life. When I was fighting an orc he knocked me over and was about to kill me when an arrow came out of nowhere and killed him. None of the other elves knew where the arrow came from, or who shot it. He paused to look at Sindahir who looked away. Anyways, we fought long and hard to keep Lorien from falling, and claimed the victory in the end. Later I accompanied Arwen and her company to Minias Tirith. Then I left for Rohan with Eomer. That was the latest that has happened beside my adventures at Weathertop. The listeners apparently amazed started to disperse but a few stuck around to see what was going to happen.

"So thats what you have been up to. Eh Maikaalph. Interesting, very interesting." Fain said.

"When did you come to know this elf Master dwarf?" A hobbit in the crowd asked.

"Well..." Fain began.

_____________________________________________


"Here's how it happened." Fain began.

I was still at my home in Erebor when Maikaalph arrived. Now just as dwarves mistrust elves, we weren't sure about him but we still let him in. I was quite sure Maikaalph was a weak person and wanted to show him that dwarves are better that any elf. So I challenged him to a fight outside the mountain til he or I gave up. Maikaalph was a lot tougher than I thought, and we battled it out for hours outside of Erebor. After That we were best friends.

The listeners disperesed till Maikaalph, Sindahir, and Fain were alone.

"Thats not the end of the story you know." Maikaalph said.

"Tell me the rest." Sindahir said.

"Later, right now we have things to discuss." Maikaalph said as he walked out the door with Fain...

"Sometimes you have to let them go." Said a voice from behind Sindahir. "I'm a friend of Fain and I know what he is like. always running off with someone or something."

"Who might you be?" Sindahir asked.

"My name is Rose Black, and I'm hoping to get a job here. I must get going now." The hobbit lass said as she ran for the kitchen...

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 7:36 PM January 11, 2004: Message edited by: ShadowElf ]

[Melisil]

Melisil slowed to a stop. She walked over to the grass and sat down. She pulled some of her hair towards her face and started to braid it. She called Eruisto over to her. "Eruisto, shall we go back inside? It's getting a bit cold out hear, and I would like to hear some stories." she looked wonderingly at Eruisto, "Do you know when the storytelling starts here?"

"Shall we?" asked Melisil standing up again. Eruisto nodded and they walked inside the Inn.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 11:56 PM January 11, 2004: Message edited by: Melisil ]

[Gorbadic]

Gorbadic smiles at the bartender and and looks down at the roasted mushrooms with a smile. He lifts his and brings it down upon a mushroom and closes his fingers around it. He brings the mushroom to his mouth and stuffs it in it. Sighing loudly he closes his eyes and nods while chewing up the tasty mushroom. He opens up his eyes and grabs another and eats it and continues to do this. He looks over to the people and narrows his eyes then looks back to his food.

Gorbadic stares at the food and grabs a mushroom but doesnt at it but instead stares at it and thinks. he thinks of his loneliness and about how bored he is right now. He stuffs the mushroom into his mouth slowly and chews it just as slowly as it went in. Gorbadic begins to talk himself. "Why am I like this? Why cant I be on an adventure instead of a Inn? I need more action then this, I mean my goodness im a Hobbit." *He stops talking to himself and continues to eat the mushrooms in the bowl.

[Imladris]

Iris of Bree

Shortly after Niluial left, Iris rushed to her feet and leaped up the stairways, nearly tripping over them in her haste. She stopped at the Finduilas’ closed door. Pressing her ear against the planks, she heard their soft murmuring as the elf and the blind girl talked softly with each other.

Breathing heavily, Iris strained to listen, but she could not catch the words. The strings twanged raucously as Finduilas touched them and Iris cringed. The girl had definitely lost her touch. But she tried the same not again, softer, and it sounded more pleasant. Again and again the blind girl struck the strings, and each time the note rang more softly.

Shuddering, Iris listened and she collapsed when Finduilas played a perfect scale. Her lips trembled, her green eyes were hooded by a frown, she clutched at the door. No! It couldn’t be happening! Why, why did Finduilas experience all joy! Even now when she was blind she was learning to play again. Through a wavering veil of tears, Iris put her eye to the key hole in the knob and watched Finduilas play the scale again. “It’s not fair,” she whispered as she buried her head in her arms.

[Fool Of A Took]

"Ehrrr, well... Actually I am from Hobbiton but I have heard that the harvest was good this year, especially the mushrooms." Ferdibrand said. Ferdibrand still wondered who this person was. He took up his own pipe. "But anyway, enough about me, where are you from and who are you?" he said and lighted his pipe. He looked at the stranger beside him. Still he looked into the fireplace and almost seemed like he were sleeping. Ferdibrand drew a deep sigh. Is he a Ranger?, that question came to his mind all the time.

He started to get cold, he didnt know why. He couldnt see that any window were open. He moved closer to the fireplace and so did the stranger beside him. Feribrand drew the coat tighter around him. Maybe the stranger was a bandit!, he thought, and maybe hes going to rob me! Ferdibrand almost started to laugh at his own silly thoughts. Of course he wasnt a robber. Just a stranger. Then the stranger turned his head to Ferdibrand again and Ferdibrand awaited what he were going to say.

[Pyroclastic]

Romenna looked around the now vacant table and smiled to herself. One moment two people had been here, the next moment they were gone. Romenna jumped and put her hand to the hidden knife on her back as something bumped against her leg. Looking down, she saw Silma the kitten, rubbing against her leg and purring. Bending down and picking her up, she said to the cat, "Hey kitty, it's just you and I now. Niluial will be back for you shortly, have no doubt." She held the kitten close as she thought about her two former table companions. It appeared that Romenna was the only one not having a bad day today. She looked up and saw Niluial approaching the table. "Looking for something?" She said as she held up Silma.
"Oh, thank you!" Said Niluial as she took her kitten into her arms.
"Niluial, will you please excuse me?" Romenna ask, "I must go see about something."
"Oh sure, go ahead," Niluial replied.
"I'll be around if you need me for anything, don't hesitate to come to me." Romenna smiled at her, petted the kitty goodbye, and set off in search of Iris.

Upstairs, she paused as she rounded the corner, seeing Iris crouched just outside of a closed door. Iris has her hand over her eyes, and appeared to be weeping. Romenna stopped to think for a moment. "She's a very withdrawn and angry person. Yet her outbursts would seem to be a cry for help, purposefully or not. I would assume that it has something to do with her blind friend." Watching her, Romenna's eyes softened in compassion. "I know something of the pain of a maimed friend." She thought back upon the memories of her brother Tarol, who had survived the war, but came back only have to fight the battle of the deformed. Yes, she knew something of dealing with permanently injured people, and the frustration sometimes accompanying them. Thus decided, she approached the dark haired lady.
"Iris, I come here not to intrude, but rather to offer my aid."

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 2:45 AM January 12, 2004: Message edited by: Pyroclastic ]

[Er-Murazor]

Almost evening again... He needed somewhere to stay or he would feel the cold of the night.

A nearby Inn that he could see in the distance was his only option. Step after step, he reached the door and after reading the name of the Inn, the Green Dragon, he opened the door and entered.

He was a big man, six foot three inch and nearly two hundred pounds of meat, with a black and dusty cloak wrapped around him.

He carried an enormous bastard sword which point almost reached the floor and at his back there were a bow and a quiver.

However, he didn't seem menacing.

In spite of coming from the roads, he had shaved that very morning using the waters of the Baranduin as a mirror and his blue eyes looked full of some kind of sadness and sorrow to big to be posible.

He looked around the main hall, trying to spot the Innkeeper but failed to do so. Not knowing what to do, he just waited someone to tell him something, it had been too long since he had heard the sound of a voice but his own.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 11:17 AM January 12, 2004: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Angel_Queen]

"Ravon, to see you hurt is the last thing I want to happen." She turned to look at Lewis "I wont let you get hurt," she thought she saw a smile forming on his face. Ravon didn't know what else to tell him. Indeed my life is a sad story, one that I caused to come upon me. I could have had anything, yet I choose a sad life.

Ravon sat there gazing into his eyes. So peaceful it seems. Yet he has so much to look forward to in the future. "Thank you Lewis. I have never had anyone to care about me. You are the only one besides Cree that knows about my sad life. I knew her once, before all this happened. Yet back then I could tell that she was special. Now as I set here and look at you, I see the peace that can come to a person. That is why I'm always saying sorry. For my past is full of sadness and only hate. Hate from other people because of who I am. Now you've changed that."

Ravon looked down at her cup. "Would you like a refill Master Lewis?"

[Witch_Queen]

Cree looked up to see a figure walk through the door. "Excuse me Lúrëaelda, so we leave in the morn." Cree knew that some how she needed to find her sword she had left outside. By now its bound to be lost. Yet who knows. She turned to him. "Just let me find Avalon."

The bird had perched itself beside the figure she saw walk in. The man was big, and looked to be over six foot to her. "I'm sorry about Avalon." She looked at the bird and motioned for it to come to her shoulder. "So whats your name, you look to be new around here. I'm Cree, this is Avalon."

She turned to look back at Lúrëaelda and Durin. Hopefully I will find my father. Yet I don't know what will happen when I do or if I do. "Avalon go over to Lúrëaelda, we leave in the morning."

[Er-Murazor]

"Pleased to meet you, lady Cree. I am new around here. And don't feel sorry about... Avalon, please. I think that the poor bird is a bit nervous, I only hope that I haven't disturbed him", replied the big man.

"By the way, my name is Eradan Durgilon. I have walked for the past three months and I hope that today at the end I will be able to enjoy some food, because I am not exactly a gifted cook. Where may I find the Innkeeper?", asks Eradan looking around in hope of discovering the owner of the local.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 11:19 AM January 12, 2004: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Witch_Queen]

Cree looked around hoping to find Aman. "Aman should be around here somewheres." She reached to her side and pulled out Lembas. "Eradan I've got some Lembas bread if that might help." She offered the bread to him.

She sat down. "So Eradan where are you from? Avalon will be fine. She can be get in some trouble at times."

[Er-Murazor]

"Elven bread? No, thanks. If past experiences mean something, it will probably burn my throat. When one does freely decide to serve the Shadows, there is a prize to be paid", refuses with a hint of dislike in his face Eradan.

"And before somebody decides to expel me from the Inn, I will answer to your second question. I was born among the ranks of the Rangers, but later decided to abandon them. I have lived for the last three years among the ruins of the red valley of Carn Dum".

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 11:21 AM January 12, 2004: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Witch_Queen]

"Ok then." Cree placed the last of the bread in her pouch. "What a fascinating story."

Cree didn't know what to think of him. Maybe he could serve to be a good friend. Yet she remembered what happened the last time she made friends with someone like him. It didn't go very well. "Well it seems that your not much for elven food. Well then I guess I should find Aman for you."

[Fool Of A Took]

Ferdibrand got confused by the strangers question. He had just told him that he were from Hobbiton, then he asks him about Buckland. He started to get nervous again, Oh my...! I must calm down! he thought and took deep breaths.

"I am sorry, stranger, I must go.", Ferdibrand said and rose from his chair. The stranger bowed his head for him and smiled. Ferdibrand bowed and ran out of the Common room, he then walked straight to the bar and asked for a glas of water. They will find me now, he thought, I hope that the stranger wasn't sent by them. He sat down and took a breather. He needed to talk to someone he could trust. An elf would be perfect. He liked elves, but most elves are no interested in the halflings problems. He then sighed and looked around himself for anyone that seemd reliable.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 10:42 AM January 12, 2004: Message edited by: Fool Of A Took ]

[Er-Murazor]

"Aren't you afraid of the evil Ranger who willingly joined the Darkness? This isn't usual", replies an clearly shocked Eradan.

"And you are even polite with me. Well, its good to be considere a man and no some kind of scum, but you have incensed my curiosity.
Where do you come from, lady Cree? What have you seen to have so much mercy?"

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 11:22 AM January 12, 2004: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Gorbadic]

Gorbadic eats his last mushroom for the day and motions for the bartender to come and take away the bowl. The bartender nods at him and walks out an grabs ahold of the bowl. They take it away and leave Gorbadic with nothing to eat on. But he doesnt care he is now pretty full. Gorbadic gets down from his bar stool and walks around just so he could do something. Bored out of his skull, Gorbadic walks over to metal chair that has moved away from a table and is sitting by the doorway all by itself.

He walks over to it and sits in it and smiles to himself. Then he relizes that a few people are staring at him. Knowing they dont care he still doesnt like to be stared at. Gorbadic gets up and takes the chair with him over to a table. he slides the chair under the table and sits on it again. At least no is staring at him. Being stared at makes him uncomfurtable for his own reasons.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 11:02 AM January 12, 2004: Message edited by: Gorbadic ]

[Orual]

Eruisto

The Inn was comfortably warm after the slight chill outside, and Eruisto felt his body warm degree by degree. There was a low hum that seemed to reverberate inside him, a sweet home-like sound. He pulled up a chair for Melisil, and went around to take the chair across when he was smacked in the shoulder by a young woman running across the common room, clutching her divided green skirt, her braided red hair streaming out behind her. He stared after her for a moment, shrugged to Melisil when she looked at him quizzically, and sat down.

"I guess in an Inn this popular, you get some odd characters," he said dismissively, but took one last look over his shoulder at the girl before turning back to Melisil.

"You mentioned storytelling," he said. "Do they have it a lot around here? Do you tell stories?" His voice was studiously casual. He loved stories, and as much as he liked telling them himself, he liked hearing them better. He tried to keep a nonchalant demeanor, but it was all he could do not to fidget in his seat.

***

Young red-haired woman

Running at full speed across the Inn, she noticed but didn't let it stop her when she ran into a man who looked indignantly at her. She hiked up her divided skirts and hoped that her thick, rope-like braids didn't hit anybody as she sprinted past.

A big smile spread across her face, seeming to illuminate her light freckles spread across her cheeks, pale from her red-head complexion. Her dark green eyes sparkled and with a cry of "Erulon!" she threw herself into the arms of one of the newcomers.

Her momentum caused her victim to swing her around a few times, and she laughed hysterically. "I missed you so much," Talmérië, better known as Rie, said, still laughing. She jumped down, and, putting her hands on her hips, looked him up and down appraisingly.

"You look good," she decided. "A little worse for wear, but that'll clear right up. Come on, let's get some ale. Tell me where you've been!"

[Imladris]

"Iris, I come here not to intrude, but rather to offer my aid." Iris tried to still her heavy breathing and wiped the tears from her face. To aid…” why did everybody think that they must help her, that she was a child to be comforted! Savagely wiping her runny nose and stifling a sneeze to slowly raised her head, burning green eyes meeting the eyes of the woman before her. Romenna’s eyes were kind and soft. She held her hand out, but Iris ignored it, rather glaring at the woman. Breaking the stare, she shuddered and, after a scornful gaze, pushed the hand aside and climbed to her feet. “How will you aide me?” Iris asked in an icy, tight voice.

“Why don’t you come down with me, and we will have a bit of coffee,” Romenna suggested, smiling as she took Iris by the arm and nearly pushed her down the stairs.

“I don’t like coffee,” Iris said briefly.

“Then we will have something that you do like,” Romenna said, her eyes twinkling as she drew a chair from a vacant table and motioned Iris into it.

Iris hunched her shoulders and bent her head, her fingers absently tracing the wood pattern. The faint sound of a lyre drifted faintly down to her: Finduilas was still practicing, more than likely under the patient kind teaching of Elentari. A dark frown creased her brow, she gripped the wood, and sneered at the table.

A soft hand touched her elbow, and Romenna asked gently, “Are you alright?”

Iris shuddered again and she rubbed her hand over her eyes, trying to stay the tears that threatened to spill. “No,” she whispered. “Would you be fine if you wished a stranger ill?” Drumming her fingers nervously on the table, she let the sentence hang with no explanation. Let her wonder! It wasn’t her business! But yet a stray thought entered: why was this woman concerned with her? “Why do you want to help me?” she asked, bluntly.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 6:33 PM January 12, 2004: Message edited by: Imladris ]

[Gird]

Gird looked around the room a bit more, and noticed a small Hobbit, fidgeting somewhat. The Hobbit got up from the stool he was on, and then walked around the floor for a bit, with no apparent aim, and then went over to a chair that was sitting by itself near the door. What an odd little fellow, Gird thought to himself. He then watched as the hobbit picked up the chair and moved it to a nearby table, and once more sat on it. Yes.. very odd indeed.

Gird, feeling sociable this evening decided to see what the hobbit was doing. Gird got up, and walked to the table where the hobbit was, and pulled out a chair. And then he kept pulling it out, untill it was ten feet from the table. He then sat down. Then, he got up, and pushed the chair in, all the way, under the table. Gird looked at the chir realizing that it was too far in to sit down on, so he pulled it out three feet and sat down. He sat for a second as if thinking, and then scooched his chair forwards a few inches, just so he was perfectly comfortable.

Then, remembering why he came over here, turned to look the hobbit and saw nothing. He then looked the other way, and again saw noone. Oh dear, my clever antics have hurt the poor guy. He looked down to the table to think, and there he saw the hobbit, who had been sitting there the whole time wondering what on Earth Gird was doing. "Oh!" exclaimed Gird, "hullo. How are you doing my fine hobbit?"

What a fool am I.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 6:56 PM January 12, 2004: Message edited by: Gird ]

[Thengal]

"Aye, that's him allright," Breylo said as he whispered to his friend in the corner. He puffed his pipe slowly digesting the situation and coming up with a quick solution.

"We aren't ready for this yet." he decided. He motioned for his companion to follow him out the door. Breylo slipped in between two other Breelanders and made his way out the door, but not before sending a parting glance the hobbit's way. Suprisingly he saw someone talking to him. "Very interesting...." Breylo muttered as they left.

[Everdawn]

Sírabel watched Grid with great anticipation as her went under the table beside hers. She did have half a mind to say something to him but ignored her temptation. After all she thought Lanus would be most upset if he were to find out ive not been able to hold my tongue again. "Mind you," she said alous now, "This intolerable ringing in my head does not much to help either!"

She was being caught up having a conversation with herself in her own thoughts when she heard the mentioning of a very interesting subject according to Sírabel.

"Carn Dum" she snapped her head as if it were someone offerig to give away all of their gold. Sírabel found the speaker, a man named Eradan and he was with Cree. Her eyes widened and she decided to Approach them.

"I am so sorry to disturb you sir, but i coudlnt help overhearing you mention Carn Dum, is this correct?" she stopped and realised thats he had quite forgotten to introduce herself. "My name is Sírabel Delone, and im an artist, which is why i ask. I have always wanted to paint there, whats it like. Better still. Am i able to join you too fine people, i should wish for some company, my companion Lanus has gone off on his errands and i have found myself quite alone and with a nasty bump on my head." she guestrued to the cut where she hit her head an hour previous. "But that doesnt matter now does it?"

[Fire-Galad]

Sindahir watched the hobbit leave.
"Okay," She started slowly. "That was just plain weird." Sindahir sat by herself thinking and remembering.

It was the nineth day since Edoras and Sindahir made for Lorien. Since her mother had come from there, maybe some one could take her in. At least in the Golden Wood Sindahir would fit in, as long as they didn't look too closely at her eyes. The gray wasn't the same shade as the Galadrim. They had soft, light gray eyes like the mallorn bark. Her gray was the kind one would find among the Noldor, her father's people. Sindahir had been there for awhile, but left two days later. Deciding to go to Valinor, Sindahir made for the Gap of Rohan. Before she got far, Sindahir and Snowstar were attacked by Wargs and were forced to flee to the Misty Mountains. Sindahir had left Snowstar to fend for herself. The horse left and Sindahir started her journey in the Mountains. As she neared Caradhras, there was a blizzard. Sindahir had fought hard to stay awake but she failed and fainted.

Sindahir knew that someone had helped her. She never found out who it was. She closed her eyes and remembered the little Elfling that was so different from the others and the Elf she was now. Being in the Wild had forced her to grow up quickly. "I wonder what the guys are up to."

[Gorbadic]

Gorbadic watches as As the man moves around with his chair. And when he finaly stops he wonders why did he do that? Gorbadic shrugs his shoulders and looks over at the man. He raises his right eyebrow and says.. "What are doing? That is the question." Gorbadic nods at his own remark and wonders. He walks up to the man and leans on his leg. Gorbadic looks at the man's face and laughs. "You be wanting something from me?"

Gorbadic lifts his right hand into the air and brings it down on the back of his neck and scratches. He puts his hand back down and gets off the man's leg and wonders back over to his own chair. He sits down on it and turns around to face the man once more. "What is your name mister?" Gorbadic crosses his arms and lays hem on the back of the chair and puts his chin on his arms.

[Pyroclastic]

Romenna looked with concern at the woman across from her at the table. Iris shuddered violently and closed her eyes, attempting to keep from crying. She looked up at Romenna, "Why do you want to help me?" She ask.

"Why do I want to help her?" Romenna ask herself. "Who died and left me in charge of the well being of all others? It's not my responsibility help this woman, it's really not even any of my business if she needs help or not. Who am I to think I can help?" She glanced back at Iris. Iris rested her head in her hand, looking down at the table surface. "What if no one had been there for me? What if the people who aided me had listened to their doubts, and left me on my own?"

Romenna’s expression firmed as she made up her mind. She reached forward and took Iris's hand in her own and said to her, "I want to help you because somebody once helped me when I needed it. But mostly I want to help you because nobody was there to help me when I needed it most. Does that make any sense?" Iris nodded slightly as she wiped away a small tear in her eye. "I don't know this blind girl of yours, I don't even know if that's why you're upset. I do know about anger. If you're angry, it doesn’t matter if it's justified or not, it's enough that you're angry, therefore something has to be done. You'll find a solution to your problem whether you accept my aid or not, but now that I've offered it, there's no good reason that you should turn it down."

Iris looked up at Romenna, "And just what is this aid you're offering?" She ask dryly.

Romenna thought for a moment as to just exactly what kind of aid she did intend to give. "A second pair of eyes, my lady, will see the danger that the first pair did not. I will suggest that we first order a meal, everyone thinks better after they've eaten. If you still trust me after supper, then we'll talk. How does that sound?"

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 12:36 AM January 13, 2004: Message edited by: Pyroclastic ]

[Eruantalon]

Erulon smile and greeted his old friend. She seemed happy to see him again ,and he couldn't help but smile. Only in the shire where people so kind to him.

In all the halls of the lords and Kingships of middle earth he wouldn't recieve a greeting like this. Yet it was only normal in the Green Dragon inn.

"Yes me and Irewnath where on a journey with lots of adventures! I've got a good story to tell you. New songs to sing too. One is a fair song of the blessed realm. I know not who made it. Still it was taught to me by a master of songs. I'll tell more when we get some food and drink!"

Happy to be in the company of an old friend. They found a table and sat down. Irewnath smiled the whole time. His friend seemed to make companions every where he whent. Yet this he knew was Eruantlons nature.

Irewnath was weary from long travels. He enjoyed this time with his friend. Yet he couldn't stop himself from wandering off in his mind. To the gray havens and his peoples passing. He let his long blonde hair fee from his hood. Then took a drink of fine ale.

Erulons lips where greeted by the taste of good wholesome stout ale. He never forgot this taste. A little over a year ago he first entered this place. Through his adventures he never lost the memory of the people or his friends here.

[Melisil]

As she and Eruisto went to sit at a table, a young red-haired woman ran by, bumping into Eruisto. "Are you all right?" Melisil asked. He nodded and continued to seat himself.

"I guess in an Inn this popular, you get some odd characters." said he. Melisil laughed,

"Too true." she agreed, looking around the inn. She didn't feel so odd now, being an Elf in a Hobbit inn. There were many different kinds of people here, and many of different natures.

"You mentioned storytelling," Eruisto said. "Do they have it a lot around here? Do you tell stories?" Melisil nodded.

"Yes, I think they still have storytelling here. I came here once about a year or two ago later in the evening and many were telling stories, or singing a favorite song of theirs. I may tell a story, I'm not sure. I don't think I'll sing, I've already done that today." she added with a smile, "It'll be nice to hear some of the others share their stories though."

The Elf studied the faces of a few of the other patrons, yes, they had stories in them. But who would be wanting to tell theirs first? she wondered passivly.

[SonOfBombadil]

"Yes, a refill would be nice" said Lewis, "and while we're at it, we may as well order some food, it's been quite a few hours since my last meal, and I feel a hunger coming." The smell of venison floating in through the kitchen doors, was making Lewis hungry.

Let us hope, that we can leave such times behind us, thought Lewis, who was still thinking about Ravons story. Yes, leave them behind, and look forward to better times.

[Fool Of A Took]

The man looked down at Ferdibrand and asked "How are you doing my fine hobbit?" Ferdibrand got so scared so he almost started screaming. "Well, I am just fine, I guess...Hehe...Errh, How about you, stranger?" Ferdibrand said and then bowed, he moved his chair closer to the table. The stranger didnt look dangerous, and he didnt seem to know anything about who he really was. Maybe he could trust him. He pulled his coat tighter to his body. "Who are you?" Ferdibrand asked and almost had a whispering voice. The stranger moved closer to the table but then started looking at something else.

Maybe hes sent by them, to catch me and bring me to them, Ferdibrand thought and studied the strangers face, Cause of all this I am almost paranoid, but he doesnt seem to be sent by them, but I will wait and see if I can trust him. He sighed and then ordered another ale. He awaited the strangers answer with excitment.

[Er-Murazor]

"Of course you can, lady Sírabel Delone. I am pleased to meet you. My name is Eradan. Anyway, may I see that "nasty bump" on your head? In the time I have spent in the wilderness, I have had time to learn some useful things about the most usual injuries" says Eradan as he approaches Sirabel to have a look at the cut.

"And your ears were correct. I did indeed mention Carn Dum, the old fortress of the Witch King and cursed capital of Angmar. It is a dark valley almost completely sorrounded by sharp mountains and full of the ruins of the buildings of the days when it was inhabited. However, I do not think that you would want to go there. There are foul thing there. The Lord of the Rings has fallen and if we are to believe what has been said will never recover again, but some of his minions still wander the land. Some only want a place to live in solitude, but others want revenger against the light. And the Black Castle of Angmar is full of such creatures" explained the dunadan while he examined the cut.

[Witch_Queen]

Cree looked over to see where Ravon was. Luckily she's still at the fire. "Eradan I come from Eryn Lasgalen. Though your story is shocking I've learned that there is few things that frighten me." She held up her fist, calling for Avalon.

The bird flew through the air. " I have seen too much to not show mercy to some one. After all Avalon seems to show me that there is some good hidden inside you." She turned her attention to Sirabel. "I'm sorry to have to cut our conversation short Eradan but I have to go see to something. Come on Avalon. It was nice talking to you Sirabel. Your cut isn't that serious but it has began to heal. Now if you will excuse me..."

Cree got up from her set and walk towards Ravon. "Well good evening Ravon. I see you have followed me here. Now what are you going to do to me." She looked down to the elf, she knew her words were harsh.

"I'm not going to do anything. You have found peace here and so have I." Ravon motioned for Cree to take a set.

"Who is your friend here?" She looked to the figure setting in the set across from Ravon.

[Angel_Queen]

"This is Lewis, from Rohan." Ravon couldn't believe that Cree had confronted her.For the first time since I've known her she has never done this. "If I might ask who's that on your shoulder."

"Oh this is Avalon. She's one of my few friends. Nice to meet you Lewis." Ravon turned to Lewis. Now what should I do?"

"Lewis this is Cree. She's the one I told you about earlier." What has happened to her since I last saw her. She seemed so changed. "I'm sorry Lewis."

[Gorbadic]

Gorbadic, aparently bored gets up and doesnt wait for a answer from the man beside him. Gorbadic slowly walks out of the door of the Inn and leans against the outside wall of the building. He notices a couple of squrriels romping around in a nearby tree. One of the squirriels fall from the tree and hit the ground hard making a small bit of leaves and dirt fly up into the air. When the leaves and dirt sttle back on the ground the squirriel appears to be dead. Gorbadic runs over to the poor furry creature and kneels by it's not moving body and stares at it with sadness.

Gorbadic puts his right index finger out and pokes the little mammals head. With great surprise the lifeless looking body jumps straight up into the air a few inches. The squirriel runs up the tree from ealier and meets up with the other squirrel. They begin to play again with great joy like nothing had happened. Gorbadic smiles and walks back inside and walks back over to the man he left by himself. He sits back down in his chair and turns back around to face the man, and hear what he has to say.

[SonOfBombadil]

Lewis watched as someone came and started talking to Ravon, and then was introduced to him as Cree. This was who Ravon had said she was following. "Oh, hello Cree, nice to meet you." Lewis thought it was odd, as he had not expected to meet Cree, from what Ravon had said before.

Lewis looked at Ravon, and she looked almost as confused as he felt. So this wasn't a regular occurance.

[Gird]

Gird was about to answer the question, when the hobbit got up, and walked outside. Odd. He then watched as the hobbit came back in, a couple of seconds later and sat back in his seat. Gird now noticed that he was company of two hobbits, both the one he had talked to earlier about the tea, and also the odd one who kept walking around. Both seemed rather fidgety, and Gird just figured that that was the way hobbits were.

Gird had now been asked two questions, and he had to answer them both. And, being who he is, he decided to meld them into one answer. "I am doing quite well, and you sirs, can call me Gird." He then held out both of his hands to shake theirs.

Yes, it was a good blended introduction.

[Gorbadic]

Gorbadic looks around and then hears the man answer. "You never told me your name mister." Gorbadic says this with a wondering voice. Also another thing wonder on Gorbadic is his eyes. His eyes were scanning the room and looking at the people in it. Gorbadic shrugs and gives one last look at the man and walks away from him. He walks back to the bar counter and asks for an Ale. The bartender nods and dissapears then in a few minutes they return with a mug of ice cold Ale. Gorbadic takes it and thnsk the person before walking away from the counter with his new drink.

Gorbadic walks back to the guy and the table and sist back down. He takes a chug of his Ale and then remembers earlier when he got a little drunk in the Inn. Gorbadic sets the Mug down on the table and stares at a picture on one of the walls in the room. The item he is looking at looks like a copy of Hobbiton. Who ever made that picture sure was good. Gorbadic drifts away from the picture and shifts his glance at his mug of Ale. Gorbadic lifts up the mug and takes a drink from it then sets it back down. He then lets out a sigh of boredom.

[Angel_Queen]

What is she doing. I should talk to her later, nows not the time. "Cree can we talk tomorrow or something? I'm a little busy right now." She watched as Cree motioned for the white crow setting on her shoulder to go back to some elf across the inn.

"Well I'm leaving in the morn. Theres something I've got to look for. I have questions I need answering. But I would like to talk to you perhaps when I return." She's leaving? Why? Where is she going? Well I shouldn't worry after all I'm not following her anymore. Its too much for me.

"Go on Cree, I'm not following you anymore. Its hard to keep up with you. Plus it seems that your crow will watch after you. I don't have to worry about you getting hurt." Ravon was becoming a sick of always chasing after someone like Cree.

"Well then I guess I better get back to my company. Goodbye Ravon, and it was nice meeting you Lewis." Cree walked away and went back to the table with Eradan and Sirabel. No longer did Ravon have to worry about Cree.

This only ment that she could have a life now. Her job here was done."Now where was we?"

[Witch_Queen]

Cree walked away from Ravon and headed back to talk to Eradan. It seemed like she hadn't left at all. "So is the cut going to be bad after all?" She looked at Sirabel.

It seems like Ravon was frighten by what I did. I've changed since she last saw me. "Eradan, is there any reason why I should be afraid of you."

[Gorbadic]

Gorbadic now totally bored now stares at his mug of cold Ale and eccasionally takes a drink of it. He spots a piece of lint on the table so he begins to flip it back and forth with his fingers. Being very bored this seems to be very amusing. Gorbadic smiles broadly then relizes it is just a small peice of lint. He quickly flips it one last time making slip across the table and fall to the other side. Gorbadic takes one last drink from his mug and slams the mug down on the table making a loud booming noise to echo through out the Inn.

Gorbadic stands up and slowly walks up to the bar with his feet being shuffled slowly. A couple of minutes later he reaches the bar counter and climbs on top of a bar stool once again. He had done this so many times here that it was becoming a habit. Gorbadic puts the mug on the counter with a loud thud. The Bartender walks into view and shakes their head at Gorbadic. "You gotta relax here bud. Dont get mean because your bored." The bartender says with a voice he could tell was also bored. Gorbadic frowns and the mug and jumps down from the stool. He walks back over to his table but doesnt sit down this time. Instead he just stands there leaning against the table's edge.

[piosenniel]

Green Dragon Inn Facts:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Other ongoing characters in the Inn:

Ruby Brown, Hobbit – not married – server and maid

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

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

Ongoing characters from outside the Inn:

Halfred Whitfoot – local Shiriff and Postmaster; his pony’s name is Dumpling.
_____________________________________________
Please Note:

No 'SAVES' are allowed in the Inn.

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

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

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

_____________________________________________


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

_____________________________________________

IT IS NOW EARLY EVENING IN THE SHIRE.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 11:10 AM January 14, 2004: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

I want to remind Inn patrons of one of the Shire rules from The Red Book of Westmarch:

Chatty-style posts which encourage other players to post in a chatty manner are discouraged.

Be descriptive, and try not to use a lot of dialog.

Communication between players in the Inn is welcomed, but please try to enhance it with some descriptive writing. This is not a television show or a movie where we can see your character and the environment they are in. You need to provide that for us - not just the dialog of the scene.

Posts with excessive dialog and little descriptive prose will be returned to their writers for revision.

Thanks!

~*~ Piosenniel, Shire Moderator

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 11:10 AM January 14, 2004: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Thengal]

"You must reach Bree and return before the sun is high tomorrow," Breylo said to his dark companion. He noded his head then leaped onto the horse and galloped away leaving a cloud of dust. Breylo turned away and headed back toward the inn.

As he rentered the inn he noticed a hooded man sitting at the table where they had sat. He apperead to be opening some kind of small leather bag. Wait, no. It was. Breylo reached for his belt and realized the leather bag around it was gone. Had he stole it off him, or had they left it there? Either way this man was going to have some explaining to do.

[Fire-Galad]

As Sindahir sat at the table, the hairs on the back of her neck rose. This happened when someone was watching her. Sindahir looked around and saw in a corner an Elf sitting by himself. Sindahir turned her back to the stranger.
"Oh no, not him." Sindahir whispered to herself. She then heard the stranger's soft footfalls.
"Why Sindahir, I wasn't expecting you here." Sindahir looked up at his face.
"Hello Drowin." Sindahir replaid tonelessly.

Drowin was from the House of Feanor and had huge grudge against her. "So, still want it?"
"You know I do." Sindahir groaned. Did he ever give up?
"Look, I didn't even want this, but if it means giving it to you, then I will keep the position!" Drowin glared at Sindahir.
"Don't forget, I saved you that day in the mountains." 'Okay,' thought Sindahir,'my life can't get crazier.'

[Wingfoot]

Horse and rider had traveled through curtains of light, silvery rain for all of two days. Approaching the grassy outskirts of the Shire, the clouds that’d been looming above for days, even weeks, had faded into vague purplish streaks that hovered above the settling sun and its sanguine aura. Upon nearing the the quaint pub, the rider mumbled a command upon a whisper to the dapple-grey steed, and the beast haulted abruptly, whining and tossing its head. With a pat on the rear flank, its master handed off the reins to a rather undersized stablehand and mounted the rickety steps of the Green Dragon Inn.

Once inside, he hooked two gloved fingers beneath the embroidered edge of his cloak to flip it behind a slender shoulder, so it framed his rather gaunt figure. The same hand rose to pull back a dampened hood, revealing sharply defined features, a thin mouth, and cropped tresses of raven’s black that jaggedly bordered eyes of marble-grey, a trademark of the men of Gondor. The sudden wave of warmth brough a slight curve to his lips, and he took a seat near the oaken counter to the back of the square room, snaking his way fluidly through the bouncing couples on the dance floor and the haphazard drunks scattered throughout the tavern.

Once off his feet, he removed his gloves from long-fingered hands, crossed with callouses, and caught the eyes of a stray barmaid in his own, offering a polite smile as she approached. “Hot water?” he raised his dark brow inquiringly. She nodded blithely and was gone with the flare of her skirts. The Gondorian sighed, orbs of sea-grey wandering to perch upon the band of tireless musicians in the corner. The merry tunes they managed to pluck out on their hollow instruments brought a boyish grin to his face and he tapped a booted foot along to the sprightly rhythm. Perhaps he would enjoy his stay in this place.

[SonOfBombadil]

Lewis listened as Cree and Ravon talked, and Cree said that she was leaving in the morning. Ravon came outright and told her she wasn't going to follow her. Cree departed, and Ravon looked back to Lewis.As she did so, Lewis saw what he thought was a smile, as if a burden had just been lifted from Ravon's mind and soul.

This smile was soon followed by a question, "Now, where were we?" "Oh, yes, I believe we were just about to order supper, as it is growing dark out." came his reply. He then continued, "I'll treat you to a meal, order whatever you like, personally I'm going for the venison." He smiled, and hailed a server. Looking at Ravon, Lewis noticed, that yes, it was a smile.

[Fool Of A Took]

Ferdibrand started feeling hungry again, yet, he was a hobbit that's almost hungry all the time. He got up from his chair. "I am just going to get soemthing to eat, Gird, you dont whant anything?" Ferdibrand said. Ferdibrand looked at Gird that seemed to think about something. Maybe I have finally made a new friend, he thought and looked at Gird, yet I am not really sure yet. He sat down again and Gird still didnt say anything. Ferdibrand rose up again and walked to the counter. He asked for a glas of water and then sat down by the counter.

He orderd some ribbs again and an ale, and then he returned to Gird. "Are you still sure you dont whant anything to eat?" Ferdibrand asked and looked concerned at Gird. Gird looked up and was just about to answer his question. Ferdibrand awaited his answer.

[Angel_Queen]

Ravon looked at Lewis, indeed a burden had been lifted.I couldn't have asked for anything better. Now I can move on with my life and not worry about her. "I'll have what your having. Though the Lembas earlier filled me up. But why not I'll have the venison." She felt herself smile.

Finally something to smile about. Maybe this will last for a while. That is as long as I don't have to go around chasing run-aways. "Thank you Lewis. Its been so long since I've been able to smile. Yet I have Cree to thank also, but that can wait. Now I can move on with my life and see what destiny has planned out for me. Though I would hate it if it meant leaving you." Ravon reached out and grabbed his hand and placed it between hers.

She didn't know what to think anymore. What role will he play in the rest of my life. Or is fate still playing with me.

[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman couldn't help looking a little doubtful - Hawthorne's sudden brightness after that...the Innkeeper hesitated as the word suspicious sprang to mind...pause. But then, she had had Cami as a nurse, but for how long was a mystery; Aman didn't know as much about Pio's companion on the Lonely Star voyage as she might have wished - for all she knew, the hobbit woman had been her nanny. And she was a Brandybuck, and from the same residence as Merry, who Aman held in rather high esteem from what she had seen from him, and was certainly not short of a few practical skills...and Hawthorne couldn't try to bluff her way through cooking, and catching, fish. In a well-respected Inn. With no experience. Could she?

The Innkeeper's musings were interrupted by another call from a harrassed Ruby. "Five minutes until the mid-afternoon meal, Miss Aman."

Aman looked back to Hawthorne and, although the hobbit would never call her 'Miss' Aman, the Innkeeper made up her mind. Nodding, she turned to go down the corridor. "Come on then, five minutes until serving, need to get it all prepared." She turned as she reached the end of the corridor, looking over her shoulder at the apparently paralised Hawthorne. "You know how to prepare venison, don't you?"


Another bright smile. "Indeed, we had it at Brandy hall several times. It isn't too hard."

Not suspecting anything in the fact that they girl hadn't actually answered the question directly, Aman grinned and continued walking briskly. "Well I'm impressed. It's never been one of my strong points...still, I'm sure Ruby will relish your help."

~*~

As Aman entered the Common Room, she clapped her hands officiously and most of the Common Room turned towards her as Aman called over the stubborn or drunk who continued talking.

"Ladies and gents, the mid-afternoon meal will be served in five minutes," Aman heard an elf nearby murmur happily to his companion "I love the Shire!", before she continued "-the main part of which will be venison with vegetables, preceded by fresh vegetable soup. You may order at the bar or, as the more common procedure seems to be - catch my as I come past." She grinned at the Common Room as laughter rippled around it, then, straightening her hair, bodily removing a restless hobbit-lad customer from a bar-stool and serving a few drinks requests, Aman continued across towards the kitchen. Hawthorne, not naturally born or bred to scurry nevertheless scurried after her.

[Athaniel]

The light grew ever fainter. A soft drizzle started to pour down while Mentha Greenhands crossed the meadows near Bywater. As the water touched her face she felt as if someone else was crying for her, because she had no more tears to shed.

Ever since those terrible events of the previous year her heart has felt so empty. There had been some who had tried to console her, but they had not been able to overcome her grief. The sorrow had evoced a sense of non-belonging, neither to Hobbiton, nor to the Shire. In the recent past she had been wandering through Woody end, hoping to meet some elves who might know of a place where all sorrow would cease and the heart would heal. But she never meet any.

By now the drizzle had become a full-scale downpour of rain. Mentha hurried miserably along untill she saw the lights of the Green Dragon Inn. "Maybe I should drop in there untill the rain stops. A glass of Hot Whiskey would do me good before I return home", she thought as she entered the inn and sat down at a table in the corner.