The Green Dragon Inn - Part 4 [Archive] - Page 2 - The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum

Nerindel

06-29-2003, 05:37 AM

Léspheria had nearly been knocked off her feet when Vanwe had suddenly bolted from the commons like a frightened mare. As she gained her balance and helped two young Hobbits that hadn't been so lucky, back to their feet. She saw Kaldir watching the young elven woman through the commons window, a chill shiver ran down her spine as she watched recognition sweep over the rangers face, and she distinctly felt the darkness and pain that emanated from him in great waves that made her head pound, Had Vanwe done some wrong to this man, No! she shook her head. She had perceived nothing but fear and pain from the young elf.

She continued to watch the ranger, but just then she was disturbed by a scream and a dull thud, she instinctively turn to see were the scream had come from and as she did she saw Aman rushing down to the cellar, knowing that who ever had screamed was now in capable hands she turned her attention back to the ranger.

She was slightly alarmed to see that he was no longer there, she pulled the apron from her waist and handed it to Ruby as she passed, the hobbit woman looked at her askingly, "I need some fresh air, I will be back shortly" the hobbit woman wasn't convinced , but Léspheria didn't have the time to reassure her, she just looked at her apologetically, turned and made her way out of the crowded common room.

As she reached the door she felt for the small belt knife that sat in her pocket, she did not know what she would find when she found the ranger and if it was trouble her small knife would be of no use to her, she looked at her short sword that sat with the weapons of the other patrons and hesitated for a second, she knew fine the rules of the inn and she hated to use her sword in these times of peace if it could be avoided, but she also knew that Vanwe would be no match for the ranger. So thinking only of the young elven woman's safety she grabbed her sword and belted it about her waist and made her way to the stable were she was sure Vanwe would be.

As she reached the stables she heard voices, she quietly slipped inside and using the ranger skills she had learnt in another age. she looked around for the voices, but before she located them she saw a dark shadow pass at the far end of the stable, she crouched behind the nearest stall, the horse next to her nickered quietly at her presence but she didn't take her sharp elven eyes off the shadows.

She could vaguely hear the conversation between Vanwe and an other woman who she could not see. she then heard the click of a stall door opening and the soft clipping of a horse being lead from the stable, the shadow moved and as it did so did she.

She saw Vanwe pass up the ladders to her meagre sleeping quarters, enough she though I tire of shadowing a shadow, she swiftly came on the shadow, her hand placed comfortably about the hilt of her sword, as she stood infront of the ranger she spoke,

"What is this woman's crime that you stalk her to her place of rest?" her usually calm and diplomatic voice now taking on a demanding voice, although not raising in volume.

[ June 29, 2003: Message edited by: Nerindel ]

Marroc Underhill

06-29-2003, 07:54 AM

'I wonder where I am,' Droggo Underhill thought to himself.' The Green Dragon' he said as he read a sign that was hanging next to the door. Every now and then the door would open and a hobbit or two would stumble out; most looked a little tippsy like they had one too many ales.

Droggo walked through the door, almost knocking over a pair of exiting hobbits, he walked over to the corner of the room to an empty two seated table next to the fire-place. Once he sat down, a little old hobbit popped up from a third seat that was covered up with a pile of blankets.

'W-whats this?' he asked, sounding a little sleepy. 'Who are you?'

'Droggo Underhill, sir. I'll find an empty table if ya like.'

'No, no, lad, stay, stay. Lets talk, tell me of your adventures.'

'Well I don't really have any adventures. But I can tel you of how I saved an elf girl from a Cold Drake.'

At hearing the words "Cold Drake", his eyes grew big. 'Go on then, don't me all worked up and not tell me the story then.'

'Well it was a warm morning. I was walking through Mirkwood after a small breakfest. As I was walking along a trail my eyes wandered over to a nearby tree. There were these giant claw marks all down the trunk. There was a large area at the base of the tree in the dirt, like something struggled in a fight against some creature smaller but equal strength. I started to look around to see if I could find anything. When I turned a tree I found the corpse of a giant spider.

'As I walked around it to see if I could find out how it had died, it's entire body flenched causing it to jump towards me. Right when it was in mid air, I drew my sword and cut in half. I decided to try to find the creature that had killed the spider.

I went through some bushes. An hour or so later, I came across an elven girl with a scar on her head. I ran over to her to find that she was knocked out. At that moment I heard it. It was like a hoarse scream. When I looked up I saw it. The Cold Drake. It was flying staight towards me. As I drew my sword it was almost right on me. But it was to slow. My sword sliced right through it's right wing. But it hit me right in the side. As I turned holding my side, I seen that it had it had crashed into a tree.

It was either dead or knocked out, but I wasn't going to wait to find out. I walked over to the heap of bleeding un-moving creature. I took my sword, raised it and dropped it right through it's neck.

A little while later the girl recovered and recalled her tale of how she came up and found the giant spider and the Cold Drake fighting. She tried to run but the Cold Drake finished off the spider and flew after her.

We talked a little and walked down the trail until a fork came up and we walked our seperate ways'

'Well I never seen someone to take on a Cold Drake and live ta tell the tale. I've heard tales from big men who ran at the sight of one. Your pretty brave lad. Let me buy you an ale,' said the little hobbit.

'Yes I'll take a half pint of ale and get me brave friend here a pint of ale.'

[ June 29, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

Ealasaid

06-29-2003, 09:51 AM

"What is this woman's crime that you stalk her to her place of rest?" demanded Lespheria, as she came to stand before Kaldir, one hand resting on the hilt of her sword.

An ironic smile danced around the corners of Kaldir's mouth as he looked down at the
determined set of the elflady's face. My, what a lot of busybodies there are about this place, he thought to himself. "And what woman would that be, praytell?" he asked mildly. "Surely, a man may check on his horse or the disposition of his saddle."

"By skulking about in the shadows?" asked Lespheria. "What need have you to sneak up on a horse? I saw the way you watched my friend, Miss Vanwe, through the window. And now, here you are, lurking about her very doorstep."

Kaldir crossed his arms in front of him and leaned one shoulder casually against the front of the nearest stall. "Since you ask, Lady Elf," he answered. "My horse, Nico, is a temperamental beast and prone to kick." At least, the kicking part was true. "One should approach him with care."

"And, as for your friend," he continued. "She resembles an acquaintance of mine from the South. I was curious to learn her name to determine if it was she. I was hesitant to approach her directly as the last time we met was under, how shall I say it? Less than optimal circumstances."

"Since you have now obliged me with her name," he finished with a friendly wink of his right eye. "I see that I was mistaken. So, relax, my lady. Put aside your sword." He lounged away from the stall door against which he had been leaning and moved in the direction of Nico's stall. "Your little chicken is safe from me. Now, if I may see to my horse?"

piosenniel

06-29-2003, 01:34 PM

~*~*~* Want to be play an Elf in an RPG? *~*~*~

Here’s your chance: (click on the gold letters below)

Arien and Maikafanawen are looking for 5 more Elves to accompany them on their journey from King Thranduil’s halls in Northern Greenwood the Great (soon to be known as Mirkwood) to the southern areas of the forest, in hopes of discovering why the Shadow is falling heavier on this area.

Come check it out!!

ELVES (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/cgi-bin/ultimatebb.cgi?ubb=get_topic&f=19&t=000084)

Envinyatar

06-29-2003, 03:51 PM

Derufin leaned heavily on Aman’s shoulders and hobbled up the stairs slowly. His ankle was on fire and already he could feel it begin to swell and stiffen. So concentrated was he on not crying out in pain, that he forgot that there were hazards and traps for the unwary that lay innocently on the steps. His foot slipped on a thin sheaf of papers filed on the next one he stepped onto and without thinking he stepped hard on his right foot to balance himself, sending a spasm of pain shooting up his leg.

He twisted and sat down hard on the step, his face pale. A line of sweat broke out along his upper lip, and he clenched his hands hard against his thighs until the fiery furor abated. When he opened his eyes again, Aman sat next to him, her eyes wide with worry. Cook had come down to see what was happening and stood on the lower step, in front of him.

She handed Aman the candle lantern she had thought to bring with her, telling her to put it up on the stairs behind her and open it wide so she could see what she was doing. Her hands went down to left his right leg gently up toward her. He winced as she did so, taking in a ragged breath and holding it.

‘Best we get you upstairs and quickly, boyo. Your ankle’s pushing hard against the leather of your boot, and if we wait much longer, we’ll have to cut it off.’

Between the two of them, she and Aman hauled the injured man up the stairs and sat him in a kitchen chair. Cook directed Aman to stand behind him and hold on firmly to the chair back. Derufin she told to get a tight grip on the edges of the chair seat and take a deep breath. With a practiced hand, she lifted his lower leg and pulled quickly and surely on his boot. It came off with an effort, followed quickly by his sock.

The ankle was puffed up and beginning to turn a lovely shade of deep purple, and his toes stuck out like fat sausages ready to burst their seams. Buttercup came running in, a roll of linen bandage in her hands.

‘Here! Miss Cami gave me this from her medicine chest, and sent this along, too.' Cook took the small pottery bottle from the girl’s outstretched hands and popped off the cork. The thick sweet aroma of poppies filled the air, and she poured a small tot of it into a spoon.

Derufin protested, but Cook was having none of his manly protestations. ‘Drink it and be quiet! I’ve got to wrap your ankle tightly and I’ll not have you passing out on me.’ She fixed him with a steely look. ‘You don’t want me to do like I did my own boys, do you?’

Aman raised her brows in question. ‘You pinch their nose tightly and when their mouth pops open you let the medicine run down the back of the throat.’

Derufin relented, and was glad of it. Soon, under the deft hands of cook, his ankle was bound, and rested on a pillow on a chair in front of him. Aman returned, breathing hard, from the icehouse near the spring. Cook had given her a small leather pouch to fil with ice, and now Aman placed it gently over his ankle.

Buttercup brought a round of ale for all of them, and they sat round the table, drinking in silence. Cook, ever one to get to the bottom of things, sat her mug on the table and looked at the both of them.

‘What in blue blazes went on down there? I remember that contraption as being large, and somewhat unwieldy, but a man of your size could handle it easily. Just how did it come to fall on you?’

Aman looked quickly at Derufin, then lowered her eyes to her ale, studying the rings of foam on the sides of it. Derufin, for his part, said nothing, only shrugged his shoulders, his eyes sliding quickly to where the Innkeeper sat, and away again. Cook's eyebrows raised so high, Buttercup thought they might soon meet her grizzled hairline. Her eyes narrowed, and she spoke firmly to both of them.

‘If you have any hope that anything but cold rations will be served to you and to the guests in the Common Room tonight and tomorrow and the day after that. Then you’ld both better come clean with me.’ She stood, crossing her arms across her ample bosom, and looked from one to the other.

Derufin’s stomach chose at that time to pick up the protest of its still empty condition, and a great rumbling issued forth. He smiled ruefully at Cook and placed a hand on his gut as if to shush it. ‘Well, the both of you it seems have got me in a hard positon.’ He sat up straighter in the chair, and spoke hesitantly.

‘Now, I’m not sure what it was exactly that caused me to turn while I was taking down the juicer. I didn’t really see it. But . . . behind me, to the right of the stairs, in the shadows, something made a rustling, scurrying noise. And when I turned at the sound, something fleeting moved there . . . in the darkness . . .’

Elora

06-29-2003, 07:24 PM

Vanwe was frozen were she stood as a voice she recognised and another she didn't floated up from below. Lespheria sounded grim and displeased, but it was not that which set an icy column of dread in her stomach. The man's voice, and that which she sensed from him, was as if the very voice of doom. It rolled through her head as she stood in the darkness of the stable loft, still as a statue and pale as marble.

He had her name. Vanwe pressed a clammy hand over her mouth and shrank to the floorboards so as not to make a sound in her fear. He recognised her and he had a name. It was not the first time she had encountered this. Memories of what had unfolded in another place, where she had been recognised and her name known whirled like autumn leaves on the wind, scattering through her. The image of the rope at Kaldir's belt flared in her mind's eye. She would be lucky, this time, if all he did was throw her in a cell.

She could not stay where she was. In the loft she was trapped if he found her. Nor could she flee into the isolation of the lands around her, alone with noone to see. Perhaps he did not yet know what her name meant, and would cast her aside. It was possible, she desperately thought. He could only recognise her name if he was a mercenary familiar with the South, and those fled from it.

It would not be the first time they had sent a mercenary to fetch her back. Vanwe weighed her decision. She could flee, and abandon any hope of a home such that she had here at the inn. Or she could remain, face the risk that Kaldir was a mercenary and endure life hiding from who and what she was. Certainly, once news that the daughter of Naiore Dannan came to the knowledge of those at the inn, the stable loft would no longer be hers and Derufin would not smile upon her. Noone could, once they knew and noone had.

It had been a few short, and often bewildering days at the inn, but it had been the closest thing to safety that she had come to. Noone had ever intervened on her behalf before either, like Lespheria presently was. Vanwe was baffled as to why she did so now, but the fact remained that she felt a warmth in that knowledge that flight into the wilderness could not provide. Her decision made, Vanwe slowly stood.

Having spent her life up until now trying to avoid even being seen or heard by those around her, Vanwe had developed remarkable abilities to walk and indeed run silently and swiftly. She negotiated the boards of the stable loft carefully, distributing her weight as she moved so as to not set off a creak. Equally slowly, Vanwe crept down the ladder. The sound of Kaldir and Lespheria's conversation grew louder, and her heart thudded all the more faster.

Contending now with the straw, dry and capable of betraying her presence no matter how careful she was, Vanwe ghosted across that with the barest of rustling as she made her way to the door at the back of the stable. Guiltily she crept through where Derufin lodged, feeling the intruder pushed by need into a place she had no right to be. In the stalls, the horses were restless, smelling her as she passed.

"Your chicken is safe," Kaldir was saying. Chickens did not live long, as Vanwe well knew. Her life depended on getting out of the stables. Should she be returned to the village, she knew with a certainty that she would die one way or another. Her heart ached at the very prospect. Almost lightheaded with her desperation, Vanwe extended a hand towards the back door and pushed it open.

She half expected Kaldir to magically appear beyond the threshold, but she could hear him make for his horse instead. Vanwe put on a burst of speed as she darted out the door and ran headlong away from the stables. For the second time that night, she almost collided with Lespheria.

"Inside," she panted in a voice drenched with pleading. Lespheria turned a worried face back to the stables, as Vanwe pulled at her arm. When the Elven woman at last conceeded, Vanwe all but dragged her up the stairs to the inn and through the door. The light and warmth of the room hit her face in a shock, leaving her somewhat dazed.

"This time," said Lespheria as she placed a firm hand on Vanwe's shoulder, "you will tell me what is going on." She fixed Vanwe with a stern glance, and Vanwe nodded mutely. She allowed herself to be drawn away from the door, but looked back over her shoulder. At some point, she would have to go back, if only for the braid, for she could not sleep in the kitchens. Kaldir was still there. It was to that room Lespheria towed her now, and found it quiet. Cook and Aman and Buttercup, for starters, were absent.

Lespheria sat Vanwe on a stool, drew one for herself, and regarded the other's face steadily. Vanwe's eyes held a bright gleam, sharply blue and lit by fear and something else. Her skin was pale, cheeks flushed, and she watched the maiden hurridley clench hands in her lap, noting their tremor.

Vanwe opened her mouth only to find Lespheria held up a hand to forestall her.
"This time, the whole truth mark you. What, in the name of Elbereth the Fair, is going on Vanwe?"

Vanwe's mouth closed, and her head drooped a little. The gleam of tears caught the kitchen's light.

"Please, Lady Lespheria, you cannot tell anyone," Vanwe begged. Shame and something far deeper than fear swirled in her face as she spoke. Vanwe waited for Lespheria to nod her assent, warily, and decided to trust that rather than her chances in the wild with pursuit hot after her.

"I am a runaway, from Harad," she began. Slowly, in a voice that halted when the telling became heavy and difficult, Vanwe admitted to what she could. She told of how she was to remain in Harad, never to leave, and how she had left because of the hardships of living amongst people who feared and reviled you, without kin or parents, in the harsh Haradian Waste. She told of her life, of the brutality that comes from hatred.

Yet whilst Vanwe was in the telling, there were some things she did not, could not release. The name of her mother, was one, and that of her father, for Lespheria may know of either one. Nor could she go into express detail of her day to day life. Carrying the memories was hard enough. She gave sparse details about village life for her, yet what lingered behind the words was not missed by Lespheria'a perceptive mind.

"But who are your parents," she asked when Vanwe fell silent. Vanwe shook her head.

"That I cannot know, yet," she replied. It was in one sense true. She did not truly know who Naiore and Menecin were, aside from names and half-remembered tales of two Ages since passed. Lespheria fixed Vanwe with a stern glare.

"I know only that I am of Finarfin's kin, but not what such things mean. It is just a name," Vanwe offered, honestly, to placate Lespheria.

"And what of him, the ranger," Lespheria asked. Vanwe instinctively looked in the direction of the stables, as if she would see through walls if she could.

"I do not know him, but I have learnt to be cautious and wary of most things and people, even my own kindred. Fear is never more than a hair's breadth away. I hate it," Vanwe said in a whisper. She met Lespheria's gaze in a flash of fire.

"But I will not run! I will stand now. I am sorry to have been so difficult and wearisome, Lady Lespheria, and I thank you solemnly for all you have done. I must face my fear, and you have shown me much in how to go about it," Vanwe said. She did not relish what her words meant. She had to stand and face Kaldir, and anyone else, if she was to claim this place as her home. She had to tightly wrap the very things she had been desperate enough to run away in order to find, bury them deep. Though Vanwe did not know it, her hope was perhaps in vain for the past could never be hidden and she would in time have to face that as surely as she had to face Kaldir. But the painful lessons of the past could not yet be shaken. Vanwe knew what Naiore Dannan's name did.

"I am sorry to have brought you trouble, Lady Lespheria," Vanwe said softly. Telling of the whole truth would only bring that and more upon those at the inn.

Lespheria, Aman, Derufin, Cook and so many others had been untouched by the poison of Naiore Dannan. Vanwe would not willingly change that, especially after Lespheria's defence. She owed her at least that much. Vanwe felt a wave of fatigue wash over her, and lifted a hand to push her hair back from her face so that she could meet Lespheria's gaze. She would not run and she would not harm those so generous to her. Her shame was hers alone and she had borne it alone all her life. It was heavy, but there was little she could do about the realities of life.

Theoric Windcaller

06-29-2003, 11:43 PM

The Dwarf stopped the tears as he looked around. The place returned to normal as he pulled a worn, black hood over his tear-drenched face.

He went to the bar and sat, re-thinking the previous ten minutes. "My brother has died, and so has my life-long friend. What is there left for me?" he moaned.

"There is nothing. I must go, and be with my brother and my companion. I will go into the Misty Mountains, and I will die with honor. I will die fighting the fiercest of storms."

The Dwarf was crazed. He knew nothing right and sacred now. He was angry and dumbstruck, like a dragon deep inside of him had been awoken.

He stood up straight, fire in his eyes. He ordered a drink, and then another, and gulping them all down he stomped out of the Green Dragon to sit outside and weep.

[ June 30, 2003: Message edited by: Theoric Windcaller ]

Everdawn

06-30-2003, 02:22 AM

Madea had sat, writing in her journal for what seemed like hours to her, she was getting very lonely in her corner.

The door of the inn opened, the familliar figure of a tall man entered, he was covered head to toe in a long dark green cloak, underneath this the garb of the Dol Amroth guards could be seen as he walked. Madea sat paralised with fear for a minute. The man stood in the middle of the floor for a while. The girl pushed herself into the deepest recesses of her cloak.

The man walked up to her table. "Madea?". Her heart stopped. "No, sir, i know not of whom you speak, perhaps you would ask the innkeeper i am but a traveller." she said. "Come now! Madea, its me, dont you recognise an old friend? Besides, what traveller is so well spoken as yourself?" she pulled the cloak from her black head of hair.

"Hathorn! Is that really you?" she asked with a sigh of relief. "Yes, look we havnt much time. I left as soon as I heard. Your father bribed some farmers you befriended in Rohan, he knows where you are. Look, we need to hide somewhere, at least until they have gone from the inn." the man replied.

Then smiling said "Looks like you will turn seventeen in freedom." Madea looked sharply at him as they went out the back door. "Dont you want to know why ive gone?"
Hathorn looked intently at her, as they stood at the door waiting. "I know. And I have come to offer you an alternative, I will talk to you about that later."

Madea stopped, "What alternative do I have?!" she cried. "If you must hear it then-" he said slightly annoyed. "You know im fond of you, and you me to some degree i suspect." Madea's eyes widened "go on" Hathorn frowned. "The man you father wants you to marry is a fool, but you no doubt know that yes?"

"yes"
"Then marry me." he said turning to her. "What?" said Madea. "You heard me." he said. "It will be fine, as long as we are friends, and it will rescue you from what awaits you, now later, quiet." he said silencing her.

[ June 30, 2003: Message edited by: Everdawn ]

Snowdog

06-30-2003, 03:21 PM

"I know there is a bounty on my head," she explained quietly. "Just as there is for all of my tribe... or what is left of it. It goes back to the war and before..... Please sit."

She gestured to the chair I was in earlier. I sat quietly, seeming not able to take my eyes from Benia.

'As you wish m'lady.' I said as a concerned look came upon her face as she continued speaking,

"Of late, I have been careless and too quick to trust, but my instincts tell me you are a man of honor."

I looked at her closely, for if she knew that which I had done against her people in the war... well she may think otherwise. But something told me there was much more to her than what was before me, so I said,

"I try to do what is right, m'lady,"

I could see Benia was pleased to see that I did not take her and try to return her for the bounty, and I was touched she trusted me enough with such information. I was intrigued by the direction the conversation was taking and her slight smile was both assured and apprehensive. Her melodic voice went on,

"While I feel I have intruded on your kindness too much already, I find I have no choice but to ask one more favor of you."

I had no idea of what she would ask, but as we searched each other's eyes, I could see much distress in the lady. After a brief moment, which seemed to me longer than it was, she broke the gaze to speak again. She spoke of her kin and of one being in the hands of the remnents, which was what the King's men called the sporadic bands of holdouts, usually led by Captains under Sauron who wished not to give up power over people. As I listened to her, my eyes remained locked on hers...

"As you probably know, before I fell on the stairs, I was preparing to depart the Shire on a rather urgent journey."

She went on about her impending trek.

"It seems that one of my uncles, someone we had thought long dead, still lives. My mother's eldest brother, Sahlman, is still being held by a renegade group of tribesmen who remain loyal to the memory of the Eye. My uncle is old now and not in his right mind, from what they say, but he is still my kinsman."

I listened intently to her story, nodding and finally saying to her,

'I understand, m'lady, but what is it you wish me to do?'

I left this open for her and was curious what she would ask. If for a moment on my journey south I could do battle with some remnents, it would bring a sense of accomplishment, and also to serve the interests of the Lady Nightshade. She looked down at her hands for a bit, then her eyes looked up as she leaned forward to speak softly,

"Merely deliver a message. I was to meet a small party of my fellow tribesmen. We intended to journey south to the desert and locate this tribe of renegades. We had hoped to attempt a rescue, but now... now such a journey is beyond me..."

A sad look came over her as she looked at her ankle, and I went on,

'And you wish me to find your tribesmen and let them know that you cannot accompany them.'

I knew the chances would be slim in finding her uncle, it would be a long time before I would arrive there, and I would still have to conduct my business. I didn't think I could serve the lady in such a manner so I said.

'While I have a familiarity and, indeed, a fondness for the desertlands, the desert is quite a long way from The Shire. You ask quite a lot of an old Ranger.'

She looked at me with those dark eyes and smiled as she said,

"Oh, no, that would be a favor indeed! Actually, my father's people are Breefolk. All I ask is that a message be delivered to them in Bree. They know how to contact my mother's people. If I do not appear as expected and send no word of my delay, they will fear me lost as well. You see my situation."

' I see. I said, then looked at the door before asking her,

'But what of Kaldir, the Ranger downstairs?'

She put her safety in being among the Shirefolk and her own wiles, but I knew that if Kaldir really wanted her he would have little obstacle. But maybe Kaldir's knowing I favored the Lady Nightshade, he would find other opportunity? I looked back at Benia as she met my gaze with a look that penetrated me. It seemed awhile when she asked,

"Will you help me?"

This question has gotten me into more scrapes since the war than any other, yet I felt the desire to help her, so I answered,

'I will help thee m'lady, even if it were to go to the deserts again. For whilst in the north this winter, the fell winter winds and snows gave me a chill to the bones, and I remembered dweating in the desert with the sand flies biting, and it was a good memory I longed for once again. But to seek out a renegade band without the King's help... well, it could go bad.'

I saw she was looking at her ankle, and also the aroma of the cooking for the evening meal was seeping up through the room. Fresh loaves of bread I could make out, and I asked Benia,

'Would you like assistance downstairs to partake in the evening meal?'

She nodded and offered her hand and I helped her up and supported her. Saying to her quietly as we started on our way,

I will go and pass the message you wish to be known. But can you tell me where in Bree would he be found? I am sure Barliman will know if he can be bothered, but if you know of where I could start, I would greatly appreciate the knowing.'

We paused at the door as she whispered to me,

"There is a metalsmith near the west gate, not far from the Prancing Pony where the knowledge of iron has served well some of my people, for though they once worked in the smithies of Sauron, now they work free. You will find them there."

I nodded as she seemed to want to keep the knowledge limited, and I reached for the door of the room. Getting the door open and making our way down the stairs one step at a time, I looked about and could see that Kaldir had left, so it would be appropriate to seat Benia there.

'Kaldir, the one who I suspect seeks you, has left, though I sense he is not far. Have a seat m'lady and you will be well watched and tended to.'

I made sure Benia was set comfortable in the common room with a chair and a knitted blanket to support her leg in comfort, letting her ankle heal.

With her now sitting comfortable, I took her hand and with a light kiss to the back of it, I took my leave of her, letting her know where I would be for the night if she should have need of me before I left, and I turned to leave the common room.

I could see as I was on my way out the young Gondorian woman who had been enjoying her ale was writing on a book of parchments. I could see little of what she wrote as I walked by, but could tell her easy flowing script was that of one well-schooled. When another came into the Inn and recognized her despite her seeming attempt to not be recognized, it was apparent she was a fugitive. Not one that Kaldir wished apparently as she was well observed earlier that afternoon, and I wondered if this man was really a friend, or was maybe bribed to bring her back to her father as well? The words about marriage caused me to smile as I checked my belts and pouches to see if I was again ready for travel. Smelling and seeing the bread being baked for the evening meal, I offered to buy a loaf for myself for part of my trail ration.

Having procuring some from the cook for a fair sum, I took the wrap and went over to the door, opening it but not stepping out. The westering sun glistened as it lit the common room, and I could see Blackveil calmly grazing upon the far hill where I had slept the night before. But now I could hear words in a distance and so I decided to investigate. I stepped out and headed toward the stables where the words were coming from. Pausing outside the side of the stable to listen, I recognized the voices as that of Kaldir, Vanwe, and the elf Lespheria. Much was at hand, and I decided to watch how it all played out....

[ July 01, 2003: Message edited by: Snowdog ]

Hilde Bracegirdle

07-01-2003, 08:24 AM

After Kaldir had left, and hearing no signs of further distress from Benia, Gilly felt she could relax a little with Myrtle. She had wished the ranger and his rope good riddance dismissing the thought of him with a flick of her wrist. Perhaps he had only stopped to refresh himself, she tried to tell herself while with out doubt she knew that it was not so. The lights and the comforting smell of supper easily obscured the shadow the ranger had cast on her heart, but the hobbit had not noticed the departure of Vanwe that had sparked his interest, or ever-vigilant Léspheria follow shortly after….

She found her neighbor settled at a table near the kitchen sampling a plate of Shire cheeses, her reward for helping out Miss Vinca. Before long they were deep into the finer points of cheese making and comparing tips that the old timers had handed down, when a crash was heard down in the cellar along with emphatic yet mercifully garbled shouts. The two hobbits were speculating on the probable cause of such a clamor when Aman darted past followed shortly after by the plump matronly figure of Cook.

By this time Gilly was convinced that an animal had found it’s way into the cellar, but Myrtle disagreed saying that it sounded as though a shelf of preserves had undoubtedly tipped over. They proceeded to analyze the character and qualities of each link in the chain of noises until they got to the oaths at which point Derufin emerged supported by Aman and Cook, his boot in one hand. The man was in obvious pain, with the whole of his foot swollen and discolored. Gilly felt ashamed of her part of the discussion, and vaguely wished that the strange elf maid were there to help ease this discomfort, but the situation seemed well taken care of.

“Beautiful and strong as trees these men are, but uncommonly weak at the root it seems,” Myrtle observed dryly.
“How is Miss Benia coming along?”

“As well as to be expected, I suppose. But it is time that I take my leave to go check on her.” Gilly said excusing herself. “I hope to see you again before you leave, but if not please reassure Carl that I have not become a wayward wife, just needed here at the moment.”

“Yes, I’ll tell him that you’ve spent the day trying to find out about strange men!” she said laughing.

“Perhaps sending a note would be better,” Gilly rejoined smiling and wondering what amount of gossip she was going to have to face when she again returned to her neighborhood.

Going back toward the desert lady’s rooms, she saw that Benia, with the ranger Silvanis’ help, had descended the steps and was now resting at the very table Silvanis had earlier occupied with the scarred man. It was a good choice with access to the outside door and Benia’s rooms, but it was also the one Kaldir had seemed to prefer. Seeing that Silvanis had taken his leave, Gilly approached her friend, “Is this seat taken Miss Benia?” she ventured.

Benia shook her head, “No the seat is not taken, would you care to join me?”

“Yes I would, but grant me one moment.” Gilly dragged away the chair that had been Kaldir’s exchanging it for another at a nearby table, and returned offering no explanation. She plunked down and looked Benia in the eye with a knitted brow, “So tell me, need I be worried about Mr. Silvanis? I have had word that he knows of the other ranger, though they do seem quiet different.”

“Knows of Kaldir?” Benia said softly to herself remembering Silvanis words to her,

'The hooded man I believe seeks you, and I believe for a bounty price somewhere. Be wary m'lady.'

Yet here she sat in defiance, a bird with a broken wing. “Yes, I believe that he might know him, but not closely. He too has given me warning.”

Just then the door opened and Léspheria entered with wild-eyed Vanwe in tow. Léspheria caught the Gilly’s puzzled expression as she guided her charge toward the kitchen, but had more urgent questions of her own that needed to be answered first.

[ July 02, 2003: Message edited by: Hilde Bracegirdle ]

Elora

07-01-2003, 05:17 PM

The kitchen was silent for a while as Lespheria sorted through what Vanwe had at last revealed, and also what she had not. The crackle of the fires seemed a little loud in that silence. Vanwe was both tired and on edge. Her thoughts were greasy, slipping around as she tried to sort through their tangle. She settled with the realisation that she needed another candle. It was simple and achievable and she was pleased to be able to do it. Never mind that the candle would hold back some darkness, should Kaldir haunt it. Never mind that there was a darkness in him and also her than a candle was little use against. Vanwe pushed up from her stool.

"I have kept you so long. Truly, all my thanks and my apologies, Lady Lespheria. I will not try your good will or patience again as I have this night," Vanwe said in a quiet voice. Painfully aware that she had no right to intrude as she already had, she curtsied.

Head bowed, Vanwe retrieved a candle from the pantry and toyed with the urge to remain there. She narrowly tossed it aside and emerged to face Lespheria again.

"I owe you much, and will do all I can to return your generosity. I am lost in this world, but not without anything to offer," she said with a faint smile. All Vanwe had to do is determine what that was. Lespheria watched the Elf maiden leave the kitchen, some riddles answered and more not. Vanwe looked around the commonroom at a mix of faces that were now familiar and some that were not.

Benia had arrived, and sat with Gilly, Vanwe mustered another smile for both, another swirl of thoughts breezing through her mind. Unlike Kaldir, Vanwe had sensed no lingering shadow within Benia. She was not the danger that Vanwe had thought her to be earlier. Still, not all was clear about the woman from the South. No matter how much Vanwe might wished to have known more, she remembered her place. Benia was far above her station, and a mere ward with the shame of defying her masters and leaving had no place to question Benia.

Vanwe bowed, something she could rightfully do, to Benia and rose to meet Gilly's openly curious stare. All this secrecy, Vanwe thought, how lonely it can be. Her respects paid as they should be, Vanwe set her candle to another to light it and walked to the front of the inn. Once outside, she was reluctant to approach the stables. She stood, holding a candle, and gazed at the building.

Sooner or later she'd have to go back. Vanwe walked down the steps and stood in the yard that the mathom sale had filled only hours ago. The horse hitched to the post swished her tail at her in reproach. Vanwe looked at it guiltily. By rights she should have stabled it by now. Yet, she would not just yet. Not until she was sure she was able to stand as she may need to do in that stable.

Vanwe looked skyward again, and caught the movement of another. She held Silvanis' gaze a moment and then looked back at the stable. Feeling exposed in the open yard, Vanwe walked away towards the well, candle a bright spot in her hand that cast a gentle light over her telltale hair. She looked back once, over her shoulder, towards Silvanis. She reached the well and set her candle upon the stone rim.

"Stand, not run," she whispered to the well as she wound a strand of hair around her fingers and waited either for her courage to return or Silvanis to follow.

Everdawn

07-02-2003, 01:26 AM

Madea and Hathorn were still waiting out the back of the inn. Madea was still contemplating the offer which her friend had made her. "Hathorn." she began "but.. but.. I dont love you..." she said poulling on his arm. He just laughed at her. "Nor i! But at least then you will be free, under my roof." Madea was still wide eyed.

"But dont you want to marry someone else, someone who loves you?" she frowned. "No, not at all, i dont care for that emotional stuff, all I need is someone who thinks alike, and are we so very different you and I?" He had a point. "No", she said "Thankyou Hathorn, You are a true friend, but where will we live?"

Hathron smiled. "Minas Tirith, ive transferred from the Dol Amroth guards to the city guard. Now.. keep youself down." said Hathorn as a group of riders rode down into the yards of The Green Dragon. One stopped, "Hathorn! what are you doing here?" Hathorn ran out to greet them. "The General sent me, told me Madea could be here. He was wrong though, they havent seen her in about a month." he lied.

"If you say so, goodbye" they said and rode off. "That was the most... that was the... thanks Hathorn." she stammered at her luck of escaping. "Now lets go back inside." he said taking her arm.

Alatariel Telemnar

07-02-2003, 11:24 AM

Alatariel left her room, everything back in its place as if she was never there in the first place. She snuck out of the room and out into the main section of the inn. Standing there momentarily, she scanned the inn one last time. Running her eyes along every living thing in the inn, her eyes saw something they did not expect to see, it was the hobbit lad, in the darkest corner, the very back seat. Their eyes meet once again, making Alatariel feel comforted once more, but she must not forget about the stallion, he was badly injured, he needed help. She knew the elf maiden could help him, but she feared it was not enough. She turned away from the hobbit lad, and continued out of the inn. It was painful to her just to leave him there, she needed to talk to him, but the stallion needed her, she could not leave him.

Continuing to the stables, she quickened her paste. The stallion whinnied at her sight, she found some apples in the back room of the stables, and feed them to the stallion who took them thankfully. 'Its time to go,' she said to him, leading him out of the stall. She walked beside him out of the stables and out into the open, the sun shining on his black scarred coat. His scratches began to look worse. She couldn't ride him there, that was obvious, but she had to get there soon. She started a song. An expressionless song as several of her other songs have been before. She sang for several minutes, the stallion became restless, shifting on his hooves. There was a rustle in the bushes to their left.

Suddenly the white mare appeared; she had a sapphire pendant around her neck. Alatariel took the pendant off the mare, and put it carefully around the stallion's neck,' You'll need this more than Aranel.'

She got on top of Aranel, the black stallion right next to them. They began to ride away from the inn, as fast as the black stallion could ride. 'I regret to leave you, young hobbit lad, but I just have to do this,' she said.

Ealasaid

07-02-2003, 12:08 PM

Once more seated in the common room of the inn, Benia looked around for Gilly who quickly joined her at the table that had only a few minutes earlier, unbeknownst to Benia, been occupied by Silvanis and the bounty hunter, Kaldir. The situation with her ankle both frustrated and irritated Benia more than she cared to admit. She felt helpless and tethered to one spot, two sensations which she had seldom experienced before in her lifetime. She watched as Gilly inexplicably switched out the vacant chair at their table for one from a different table.

They talked for a moment of Silvanis and Kaldir, but, all the while, Benia's misgivings continued to grow. She had confided a good deal in Silvanis, a man she barely knew and only a day earlier had feared to be a bounty hunter himself. Now, her doubts tormented her. Why had she given him her family's location in Bree? On the other hand, there were no Nightshades in Bree other than her relations. All anyone would have to do is inquire in the town as to where to find them, and they would be found. On the other hand, while her father's family knew how to contact the hidden ones on her mother's side, there were many buffers and layers of secrecy in between. Few would be able to track the tribesmen by way of the Nightshades. She breathed a little easier, but still felt troubled in her heart. This had been an ill-fated venture nearly from the start.

She looked across at Gilly, who was watching her with a furrowed brow. Benia smiled sadly. "I'm sorry, Gilly," she said. "Everything I have done since getting to the Shire seems to be a mistake. I have been too quick to trust, too quick to confide in strangers, and now I find myself trapped here, when the best thing I could do would be to flee. But, in my current state, Mr. Kaldir would be on me like a wolf on an injured rabbit."

Gilly nodded sympathetically, thinking of the scarred man's wolflike eyes. It was an apt metaphor. "What will you do?" she asked.

Benia shrugged. "I don't know. Wait, I suppose."

She followed Gilly's eyes as the hobbit watched the two elves, Vanwe and Lespheria, move across the room into the kitchen. "There is more to those two than meets the eye," she said softly.

Gilly nodded again. "I was thinking the same thing, the one of them so calm and brave, the other so, well... so shy and frightened and volatile all at once. She reminds me of wren or a robin, or something, when there are hawks about."

Benia smiled impishly and gave her a sideways glance. "Kind of like me?"

"No," Gilly answered immediately, but she gave Benia a long, thoughtful stare, taking in the silvery sparkle of the desert woman's facial jewelry and the careful detail of her kohl-lined eyes. "Not like you at all," she continued after a moment, remembering Benia's father. "There is a lot of Jack Nightshade in you, as if wherever you go, that is where you intended to be. When I am around Vanwe, it always seems as though she is balancing on a knife's edge."

Benia nodded, considering Gilly's words. Just then, Vanwe reappeared, passing through the common room on the way to the stableyard with a candle in her hand. Noticing Benia and Gilly watching her, Vanwe bowed before moving out the door. Benia smiled and inclined her head slightly in response. "How precarious," she murmurred. "Perhaps she and I have more in common than I would have guessed. I hope she will be careful out there in the darkness."

Ealasaid

07-02-2003, 02:55 PM

Out in the stable, Kaldir picked up a brush and curry comb from where someone had left them in his horse's stall and began to groom Nico's dappled gray coat. He did the work by habit, as he had done a hundred or so times before, his thoughts occupied elsewhere.

As he worked the horse's sleek coat from neck to tail, Kaldir's mind raced ahead to the coming hours of darkness, trying to decide which course of action he should follow. He envisioned the inn's grounds as a chessboard, the players in his particular drama as the chesspieces. It helped him to assess the threat or vulnerability of each player as an individual. With himself cast mentally as the black knight, he saw the two elfladies, Vanwe and Lespheria, as the white bishops. They were quick in their movement and dangerous to a degree, but limited in their power. Hanasian, or Silvanis as he called himself now, was the white knight. Mobile and no doubt as physically strong as Kaldir himself, he presented the largest threat. The desert woman with her broken ankle had been reduced to a pawn, slow-moving and vulnerable, if she could be separated from the protection of the others. As for her hobbit friend... he wavered there, unable to decide if she should be cast as a pawn or a rook. Finally, he decided she would be a white rook. It was always better to overestimate the opposition than to be caught ill-prepared.

Between his two possible targets, Vanwe or the desert woman, Kaldir decided to wait and see who would provide him with the best opportunity. Sometimes, on the chessboard, it was easier to capture a careless bishop than a cautious pawn. While Vanwe, as the daughter of Naiore Dannan, would bring the higher price if delivered to the right buyer, the desert woman, Benia, as he believed she was called, was of more interest to him personally. He had always been partial to her particular kind of exotic beauty. It would be a pity to kill her, although, ideally, that would be the easiest thing to do. With Vanwe, he would have to deliver her alive, but with Benia, all he really needed was her hands. The intricate clan markings tattooed on her palms would be enough proof of her capture to allow him to collect the bounty. He smiled to himself. This tattooing of women was an odd custom, but it certainly made his job easier.

He finished with the grooming and exited the stall, planning to return to the common room, as it would be easier to track the movements of the others from there. He had gone but a few steps when he caught from the corner of his eye, the sight of a lone figure standing by the well. It was Vanwe. She had apparently just placed a candle on the edge of the well, and stood there in its light, twisting a strand of hair absently through her fingers. Melting unseen back into the shadows of the stable, Kaldir followed her gaze to where Silvanis stood just outside the front door of the inn.

Hilde Bracegirdle

07-03-2003, 08:23 PM

"How precarious," Benia murmured. "Perhaps she and I have more in common than I would have guessed. I hope she will be careful out there in the darkness."

“And so do I, walking on a knife’s edge is best done in daylight! Do you think that she means to leave?”

“Leave to go where? I fear she is as rootless as I am.”

“Miss Benia,” Gilly began after a few moments. “I am so very upset that your visit has resulted in this unfortunate twist, if you’ll pardon the expression.” The hobbit lowered her eyes. “ I feel as if I am the cause of it all really. If you’d had been lodged at my home, as you should have, you’d have been safer I’ll wager, though a mite cramped. Now you have elves, dwarves and all manner of folk seeing you in this lamentable condition, and who knows where chance news of you will spread…Bree, West along the road, even South past Sarn Ford.” Gilly’s shoulders drooped at the thought. She began picking at a rough spot in the pine table, while inwardly enumerating how things could have been vastly different, uncomfortable perhaps but safer.

Benia’s expression was softened with understanding when Gilly looked up again. The desert woman reached over and with a graceful tattooed hand and took the hobbit’s in hers, gently regarding her friend with amber eyes.

“Dear Gilly! Please don’t hold yourself accountable for this misfortune. These complexities have dogged my footsteps whichever road I am on, or place I choose to lodge in for many years now. And as you yourself said wherever I go, that is where I intended to be” She paused to gage her friend’s reaction. “Besides, you don’t seriously think you can hide someone like me in your cozy Bywater alley?” As she spoke the fine chain of tiny silver coins swayed slightly. “Times have changed since we were children, and it is no longer unthinkable that foreigners might be abroad in the Shire, even a wolf, and your neighbors will be watching for them. No, I could not have hidden myself there. Be at ease. I would not have.”

“I imagine then we must deal with the problems at hand, such as supper!” Gilly said brightening. “You’ve got to keep up your strength. If you have to resort to Old Jack’s sword you should be able to lift it at least!”

[ July 06, 2003: Message edited by: Hilde Bracegirdle ]

Carrûn

07-04-2003, 08:00 AM

Awrygan quietly pushed the door open, but despite his best efforts it still creaked; it was a familiar and heartwarming sound and he slid through the opening like a wraith, his black clothes enveloping him. He looked around the Inn, seeing several familiar faces, but mostly new ones. He had heard of several changes at the Inn from various strangers he had met on his most recent travels. He considered finding whoever was in charge and asking about a room, but decided instead to wait by the fire and think for a time. He was planning a bit of a longer stay this time around.

He brushed past several patrons and found what he somewhat childishly considered "his" seat, a small stool by the corner of the fireplace. Sitting down he wrapped his cloak around his dark features and pulled out his pipe. Reaching into his pocket he discovered that he was nearly out of tobacco. List item #1 he groused to himself. To further complicate matters he was low on funds.

He watched the small flames and embers of the early evening fire dance together. Soon, he guessed, someone would begin throwing the larger logs on in preparation for the outside darkness. He sat absently with the pipe in one corner of his mouth, running the scarred lines in one of his hands with the fingers of the other. A wanderer's hands are like the paths he has taken, the words of his father echoed quietly in his head.

He traced the bizarre scar he had given himself on the left side of his face. His joints cracked and he remembered how nice a bath and a bed would feel. A breeze blew in through the nearby window and ran across his face. He thought of the family he had once had, and was soon asleep.

Amanaduial the archer

07-04-2003, 11:01 AM

The night was growing late, and it seemed more of the Inn's customers had stayed later than usual. Midnight had come and gone some time ago, but still quite a fair few remained. There was, of course, always the rowdy bunch; tonight it was a group of hobbits who were celebrating Eru only knows what- Aman doubted that, if asked, they would be able to tell her themselves- and had been getting thoroughly drunk all night in this cause. Aman smiled as she thought of Derufin- more than one of these would be in a state as bad as the stablemaster had been.

"Gentlemen, if we could start clearing up now, I'm sure many of you have lovely wifes who will be wondering where you are," Aman's voice was business-like, but she was smiling. At the last sentence, a cheer went up and several almost empty glasses were raised unsteadily in the direction of the red-faced hobbit in the middle, who wore a paticularly outrageous bright green waistcoat. Aman grinned- stag night then.

"Well, y'see, Miss Pio..." Aman let the mistake pass as she gently pushed the hobbit who had fallen against her upright and, taking his arm and that of another, began to lead them outside. "Y'see, Bill here, he's about to mistake that make...I mean, that mistake make...maybe..."

"Don't be so pessimistic, Rumpo!" Aman laughed. She knew Rumpo Brandybuck, this hobbit, moderately well, for he had been a regular in Pio's time, before he himself got married, and still popped in occasionally. Rumpo appeared confused by this.

"Pemisticsic? Whassat?"

"Never mind," Aman patiently helped another few hobbits to their feet firmly, and slowly, the crowd began to make their unsteady way towards the door. After they had left, the Rohirrim Innkeeper watched them staggering away unsteadily down the road, and soon a ragged, good natured chorus rose up from them, of something that sounded like a bawdy version of 'The Wizard and the Hedgehog' but with half the words missing. Smiling and shaking her head, Aman turned back into the Inn, stifling a yawn. At this rate, she wasn't going to be able to go to bed at all. Wiping her eyes, she remained otherwise outwardly alert, and clapped her hands, standing at the front of the room, letting her voice carry throughout the common room.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the Inn is closing for the night now. It's late, and if you're not staying the night, you will need to start on your way home- 'tis a fine starry night, don't worry."

There was a murmered assent, and a few groups stood, shaking hands over tables formally, or patting one another on the back and embracing, or simply staggering away into the night with a good natured "g'night to Aman. Still a few groups remained though- sober, secretive looking ones, glancing around and speaking even more urgently and furtively. Aman would deal with them in a minute, but first she needed to uproot the various people, mainly weary travellers, who had simply fallen asleep where they sat. She approached one young man, clothed in rather dishevelled black clothing, who had slumped across the table, asleep. The firelight played on his tired face, dancing over his cheeks and lighting the jagged scar on one cheek. He looked peaceful when asleep, and Aman had the feeling that this young man could do with a room, certainly, although she was loath to wake him up when he looked so peaceful. It was a good thing there were at least spare rooms now, though.

"Excuse me, sir..." Aman tried, a little tenatively. The man didn't stir and she repeated this, a little louder. When this too passed without any movement, she laid a hand on one arm lightly and carefully, shaking the man lightly, then stepping back prudently- she had recieved blows before from men waking from dreams, or from grumpy ones who resented being awoken. The young man jerked awake and peered at Aman, and she cut in quickly, as he looked ready to fall asleep again. "It is past closing time, sir. You're obviously tired- would you like a room for the night? Have you a horse that you wish to be stabled for the night?"

Envinyatar

07-04-2003, 12:56 PM

After Cook had placed a poultice on his ankle, and re-wrapped it for support, Derufin declared himself fit enough, he though,t to make it back to his quarters. ‘Just find me a cane,’ he directed Buttercup. ‘There were several in the mathom sale, surely not all of them have gone.’

Cook put a plate of food in front of him and insisted that he eat, take the sleeping powder she had given him in a twist of paper when he got back to his quarters, and give his leg a healing rest. Derufin nodded his head at her instructions, and mumbled a 'yes' round a mouthful of hot food.

A slice of pie and two cookies later, all washed down with a cup of strong tea and honey, Derufin tottered back toward the stable with the assist of Ruby and Buttercup at the insistence of Cook. ‘Leave me here,’ he instructed them as they reached the great oak tree near the stable. I fancy a smoke beneath the stars before I go in.’ He noted their frowning faces in the moonlight, and laughed. ‘You can tell Cook I’ve got my foot up on the bench here, and will go directly to bed when I’m done.’ He waved them off with a firm look on his face.

It was pleasant beneath the stars. The night was warm, his belly was full, and truth be told, he was in no mood to go to sleep just yet. Nor was he really inclined to smoke, either – it was just a convenient excuse invented at the moment to get the two lasses to leave him be.

Derufin leaned his back against the bark of the tree and re-ran the events of the afternoon in his mind. He was concerned about what he had seen and heard in the basement of the Inn, and wanted to puzzle out what few clues he had.

Nerindel

07-04-2003, 02:10 PM

Léspheria walked around the common room with Ruby lifting the empty mugs while Buttercup swept the floor and Aman ushered a rather drunken hobbit party out of the inn, Buttercup and Ruby were chatting and laughing merrily about the great success the Mathom sale had been, Léspheria listened but her thoughts kept returning to Vanwe.

The young elven woman had revealed much to her some of which truly astounded her she could not imagine how hard the elf's life must have been. Léspheria's life had always been a guarded one, not that it needed to be of course, it just always seemed that after her mothers mysterious disappearance she never had to travel alone their was always an endless supply of elves or Rangers to escort her.

As she gazed out the window at the starry night, she hoped that Vanwe would be safe in the stable, just then her thought were disturbed.

"...Aye'n his leg was fair beaten up" "It's well that cook gave 'im that sleeping powder, it will ache some tonight" "Aye Derufin was lucky it were only 'is leg 'n not 'is head that all I'm saying,"

It was Buttercup and Ruby they were discussing the handyman's unfortunate accident in the cellar, Léspheria's eyes shot between to two and then again to the window, the two hobbits looked at her puzzled.

"What is it miss Léspheria" Buttercup asked quietly, but Léspheria had not heard her, she had put down her tray and determinedly strode towards the door, but before she could reach it she felt a firm hand on her right arm. As she turn she saw the disapproving look of the Rohirrim innkeeper. "were are you off to at such a late hour" she asked looking down to Léspheria's sword. Léspheria followed her gaze, she had completely forgotten that she still wore her sword and even worse her right hand was now gripping the leather bound hilt.

She quickly let it go and looked deep into the Rohirrim womans eyes, her head swam with turmoil, she had promised Vanwe that she would not say anything, "I saw someone sneaking about the stable" she quickly improvised.

"some of the guests have been complaining of a shifty looking ranger and he seemed to be taking a great interest in our southern guest and a few others" she added thinking it what do well to keep the innkeeper informed of such things. but her eyes still strayed to the door with concern.

Carrûn

07-04-2003, 04:04 PM

Awrygan was awakened from unpleasent dreams by an arm lightly shaking his. He sat up with a start, and through a blurry haze managed to catch the somewhat jumbled phrases "...past closing time....room...stable...horse?"

He straightened up in his chair, pausing briefly before he spoke in a slow fashion. "I have no horse, however I would gladly take a room." He laughed softly, almost a cough. "You should be forwarned I am as poor as I look." It had been quite some time since he had shaved and his overall appearence was rather dishevelled apart from his piercing gaze.

He blinked, and rubbed a few pieces of sand out of his green eyes. Placing his pipe back inside its pouch he stood up stiffly. "You would be the new Innkeeper?" he enquired.

Kates Frodo Temp

07-04-2003, 07:30 PM

“Can’t we just go in?” the little hobbit lass yawned. “It’s creepy out here.”

“Just sit still!” hissed her young companion. Aietmen frowned. I could appreciate a soft bed right now. Looks like they're closed, though. What did Rosie do without me? The girl must have gone through some rough times before he found her. “You’ll be okay; just stay where you are.”

Aietmen slipped silently out into the road. After one nervous look around, he turned back to Rosie. “Now, you’d better stay…” She was already asleep! Well, at least she wouldn’t be going anywhere.

Looks like the coast is clear. Aietmen dashed over to the stable. It was after midnight now, but the moon was bright. In the shadow of the building he stopped to look back. Still no one. Good. He circled the building, but decided the door was his only option.

The door’s creaks and groans made Aietmen wince in the stillness of the night. Please, please don't anyone be awake! Thankfully, he didn’t have to open the stable door very far to slip in. Inside, he froze, listening. Nothing. Whew! It's so dark in here! I wonder if I would see anyone, if they were here. No, no one would be in a stable at this time of night! Well, if anyone can creep up on me, they deserve to catch me. I haven't spent my life on the road for nothing!

He stood for a moment more, letting his eyes adjust fully. Look sharp, bold traveler, it's not over yet! Aietmen moved forward, hands slightly out in front of him, and dragged his feet slowly, instead of lifting them. It wouldn't do to smash into something now! I just need a look around, and then I can get Rosie.

He heard a restless shifting in the stall near him, and looked over at the fine animal. A lady's hack, sounds like. But all's not right. He stopped again, listening hard, but not for footsteps. No, now he had eyes and ears only for the horse!

“Quiet. Quiet, fellow. Yes, I know a good horse when I hear one.” Aeitmen breathed in the horse’s ear.

[ July 04, 2003: Message edited by: Kates Frodo Temp ]

Snowdog

07-04-2003, 09:48 PM

Since there was little but intrigue outside as the sun sat, I noted the soft footfall in the stable, and recognized it from years past. Kaldir was there watching, and probably trying to decide who was worth more? Truly a life of Rangers disenfranchised after the war, whether by capture and torture by the enemy as Kaldir, or the waning of the world changing and all he had known such as myself, could lead one to take up varying careers and trades such as bounty-hunting or being part of a secret army unofficially sanctioned, but publcly denied by the King. Yes, Kaldir and I are much alike, yet much different in the roads taken, and only time will tell if any binding of the code of the Dúnedain they once shared still held between them.

I saw the glow of Vanwe's candle as she seemed to pause in the twilight by the well. She maybe did or maybe did not know I approached her from behind. Stepping purposfully on a twig to alert her, she did turn about and I stopped, maybe a yard from her. Unsure if she drew a weapon, I was prepared, and also kept an ear to the stables, for surely Kaldir watched...

'The sunset and twilight is a becoming sight here in the Shire, and it is no wonder the halflings settled these lands so long ago.'

My eyes signalled her that Kaldir yet watched and listened in the stables, and I went on...

'I will be spending the night up there this night for Inns are both expensive and too enclosing, but I believe I have something you have dropped ere days ago.'

I was curious to her reaction to this, and wondered what was really in the pouch which I now held before us. I looked at her and asked,

'What is this worth to you?'

Everdawn

07-04-2003, 10:35 PM

"well! this man will have a lovely wife!" said Hathorn loudly which in turn sent Madea into fits of laughter. "And this girl a very lovely husband! from a loveless marriage!" she laughed. Hathron turned with a smile and patted her on her head. "Dear Eru! youre right! this is a loveless marriage! and all the better i say, happiness is the way to go!"

"What do you wish to do first, Madea, now that i have freed you?" he said a grin spreading across his face. Madea though for a while, "I would like to learn how to fight." she said.

"That, my friend, is no problem at all. When you are under my roof, i will fight you personally, every day even!" Madea smiled. "Really? you would do that! This is the best decision I have ever made." she said as they headed up to their rooms for the night.

King_Elendil

07-05-2003, 11:42 AM

Aldor rides up to the Inn and leaves his horse with Derufin. He dismounts and walks into the inn and orders some he also leaves his sword at the stable, so as not to frighten the Halflings present. He sits down at a bar stool and orders some ale.

Curious Halflings gather and inquire of me. I run my hands through my straggly beard and relate my story, how I served as a captain at the Fords of Isen and cut down many a fierce Uruk with my sword, Uruksbane, leading a company of stout men from the Westfold. I lead them to the fight at Helm's Deep, though many of us were cut down, some still survived to fight at the Pelennor Fields. My eyes shine as I recall the glorious blowing of the horns of Eorl and the gallant charge of King Theoden the Renowned, and thence we proceeded to the Black Gate, where I received an arrow in the leg from an orc, but still stood on feet and thrust Uruksbane into many an orc and even a beastly cave troll.

By now, my tale has reached a crescendo, and the Halflings sit in open-mouthed awe.

[ July 05, 2003: Message edited by: King_Elendil ]

piosenniel

07-06-2003, 02:31 PM

Vinca Bunce, Cook for the Green Dragon, was done for the evening. Buttercup and Ruby had finished the dishes, and hung the pots and pans on their pegs, ready for another round of cooking tomorrow. They had taken off their aprons and said their good-nights. Tomorrow would be another early, busy day for them, and they were bound for their beds and sleep.

Cook took off her own apron and hung it on the peg by the door as she entered the Common Room. One of the Big Folk (scraggly-bearded she noted, with a silent tsk!) was regaling the few Hobbits there with a tale. Cook drew herself an ale and sat down to listen.

‘Ah, so another warrior has straggled in – refugee from the Great War.’ She looked about at the Hobbits sitting open-mouthed.

‘Tolman! Halibert! Shut those mouths of yours. The flies’ll be swarming toward you if you don’t.’

Cook turned toward the newcomer and offered to refill his tankard. ‘Your name, good sir. I don’t believe I caught it.’ She nudged Halibert away from the Man’s leg as her tried to steal a peek at the leg wound the Orc had given him.

Elora

07-06-2003, 09:04 PM

"What is this worth to you", Silvanis asked. There were many answers. It was her past and her future. It could be her freedom or her slavery. It was all she had risked to find and so much more danger. Nightmares, it was, and also dreams of freedom so sweet that they ached within her.

Vanwe's eyes held her answers as she gazed at the pouch in Silvanis' hands. They tumbled about in the blue depths much as the candle flame flickered beside her. He had indicated that another was here, and that sent a shiver down her spine that she ignored. Stand, not flee. Her voice was soft and without doubt.

"Everything," she said plainly as her eyes rose to the Ranger's face. "It is worth everything I have and more."

But what did she have to give? Certainly there were 3 coppers in there and he could have them. She could survive without coin as she had proven before. She could carve and mend things. She was quiet and fast, and she could sense and heal things. But what were these humble gifts worth to one as accomplished as the Ranger before her? Vanwe well knew how little such things amounted to when set against the reckoning of the wide world.

"There is coin inside... three coppers... it is yours," she said earnestly. She stepped closer on a light foot, removing the battered sheath that held her belt knife and held that out to Silvanis also.

"And there is this... it has served me well," Vanwe added. It occured to her that a belt knife against Kaldir would be like a blade of grass against the storm.

"I can work too, and hard. I will offer you that freely, in any way I can serve," she said. Vanwe was all too familiar with hard labour, under thankless and harsh conditions furthermore. One Ranger could do no worse than a whole village of frightened and hate filled people. But there was another thing that Vanwe had, that possibly could be worth a great deal to Silvanis.

He watched her, and she knew that as she stood by the flickering light of the candle beneath the stars, he would likely recall that night in the south when she had defied her masters and lashed out against them by tampering with the stew at their feast. She knew he may also have looked in the pouch he still held, and made out her notes. Silvanis or Kaldir, could profit greatly from her name. Kaldir already had it in his grasp. Could it be any worse if Silvanis also did so?

What she sensed from Kaldir did not emanate from Silvanis. Vanwe let her senses brush past again as she steeled herself and gathered her courage.

"Last of all, there is my name. My true name," Vanwe said in a voice that sang of sadness and shame.

"And what use to me is a name," Silvanis asked closely, curiosity marked in his eyes. Vanwe sighed and choose to embrace her fate instead of struggle against it.

"When it is the name of Naiore Dannan's daughter, much can be gained from the one who brings her to the King's justice, or Harad."

A ripple of recognition danced across Silvanis' features, as would any who fought in the Wars.

"I am Vanwe Dannan, daughter of the First Ravenner of Mordor, reviled of the Free Peoples," Vanwe said with aching sadness for the stain of evil upon her mother. Her fair head drooped a little and she brushed her hand across her eyes before she raised it.

"Take the coppers, use my labour that I give you freely. I will not even flee nor fight you should you take my name and my freedom and use that to your profit or as your duty required.

But know this. Whether it is to be that I find myself in the jails of the King or the hell of that cursed village, there I will not remain for I have lived long enough in chains for the evils of my mother!

You can have it all, including that truth, for that is what it is worth to me. Seems to be fair, as already the other one has it."

Vanwe's voice had not risen, but it had become stronger and more like her mother's polished velvety timbre than Vanwe could know. But also, in her admission, more still of her heritage was revealed in that evening night. Young as she seemed, there was a timeless sense of strength that had enabled her to come so far alone and would enable her to continue with dignity and pride.

Silvanis studied her silently for a long moment, as if unsure what she would next say or do. Vanwe remained still, her knife held to him in her palm and her gaze steady upon his. Sensing his question, she met it with another of her own.

"What would you do to be free of the riddles of your past and to find your future unburdened by regret and sorrow? I risked everything for that, and do so now again, for my choice is made and I will see it through to whatever end it brings me with no complaint.

What you hold in that pouch are all the answers, all I have risked to get them, and the reason I walk forward and do not find a forgotten place to lie down and quit this life. I give you all I have in return.

You saved my life once before. You owe me no such thing now. Do as you will, Ranger. I will quarrel not. I am not strong enough for such feats."

A calm had settled upon Vanwe, a deep stillness. Much hung in the balance now. She was accustomed to the stakes, had lived with them for a long time now. The evening breeze caught in her hair and ruffled it against her cheek, cool. She patiently waited to see how the chips fell this time, all the while aware that another watched. That was another gamble she would have to make if she was to stand, and stand she would.

King_Elendil

07-07-2003, 02:18 AM

My name, good cook, is Captain Aldor, son of Freawine, and I came from many leagues on behalf of His Majesty King Eomer Eadig. His Majesty King Eomer wishes to convey his goodwill to the Halflings.

Now, Innkeeper, do you have a room? My bones are weary from much riding.

Amanaduial the archer

07-07-2003, 09:28 AM

"You would be the new Innkeeper?"

Aman smiled and nodded. "Indeed I am. You knew the Lady Pio, perchance? My name is Aman. May I ask yours?"

The man hesitated, regarding Aman for a moment, and she shrugged. "Alright, alright. You have no horse, you say. But what of a room? Surely you will not be able to travel again tonight?" Not in your state, certainly, she thought, but didn't add it.

The man rubbed some sleep from eyes as green as Aman's own and stifled a yawn. "I shall find somewhere I daresay." With a sad smile and a stiff nod, he started towards the door, but Aman cleared her throat and made a small 'emmm' noise, and he stopped. The Innkeeper knew she shouldn't do this- this character did not look trustworthy, and he hadn't given a name, but she wouldn't let him simply fade away into the night, where anything could happen- despite the sword that hung at his side still (he hadn't observed the no weapons policy, obviously), and his ranger-like appearance, the man did not look in any fit state to be fighting anyone that night. She made up her mind. "I am sure if you stayed a while tomorrow, myself or the stablemaster would be able to find something for you to do to earn a room and a meal. What do you say?"

The man looked surprised, as if he hadn't expected kindness, especially after telling Aman he couldn't really pay. Aman smiled, beckoning with her head for him to follow her to the bar, where she took out the log book and the pen hanging off it by a thin red ribbon, and opened it at the last entry. As she did so, her eyes caught sight of a key hanging behind the bar- the stable key. Hadn't Vanwe locked up then. Aman sighed- she certainly had been distracted recently. Taking the key and turning back to the man, she gestured towards the book quickly, but her voice was still calm and kind as she spoke. "Come now, make up your mind. I have to see to the stables tonight, it seems, and the night grows ever later."

Snowdog

07-07-2003, 12:29 PM

The breeze of the midsummer night dances with the skirts of Vanwe as she spoke, and I watched her close, my hand working the pouch about.

'Three coppers I have little need, yet there is more here than you say.

I said this to see her reaction, and her eyes lit up some. Yet I calmed her some...

'However dear lady Vanwe, you offer much for this, yet I ask little of the daughter of Naiore. You know that Kaldir will take this news to profit of himself, yet I see nor sense no malice in you as there is in your mother.'

Surely there was the possibility of malice here, but I would hold her words as true until she shows otherwise. But what do I ask of Vanwe daughter of Naiore?? I will not have her beholden to me or it is not my ways. I looked at Vanwe as she spoke further...

"You saved my life once before. You owe me no such thing now. Do as you will, Ranger. I will quarrel not. I am not strong enough for such feats"

It seemed a calm came over her though as I stared into her eyes. I held up the pouch and its outline was before her, easy for her to grab from me if she wished. The business inside t was not mine, yet could offer clues... no, it is not mine to say.

'This is yours you say?'

I asked, though knowing the answer.

'Then it is yours for the keeping, though if it is of such value, you should secure it better when you are hanging from rafters of stables. I will ask one thing of you, not for its return though...'

I swung it slightly and let it fly toward Vanwe, who snatched it from the air as it went toward her. Surely it was of much worth to her, and now since she had what she sought, she could turn and go if she wished. But I went on...

'Will Vanwe, daughter of Naiore come and sit with me for a time upon the grassy knoll yonder and tell me of her mother? The stars on this night of little moon will be bright, and in the sound of the midsummers breeze there will be rest and peace for thee, not chains and inprisonment.'

She was silent as she looked at the pouch, and finally looking at me as the candle blinked out in the breeze, she smiled and we walked the short distance to the hillside to sit for a time.

Carrûn

07-07-2003, 12:32 PM

The weathered man seemed to ignore the Innkeeper's question regarding his name, nodding shortly when she asked if he had met Pio. He had half turned to leave when she called him back, offering a room in exchange for future services. He followed her lead over to the bar where she took out a log book and set it in front of him.

He saw her pause in front of a key, then turn back to where he stood.

""Come now, make up your mind. I have to see to the stables tonight, it seems, and the night grows ever later."

Shrugging slightly he picked up the pen. He stopped for a moment in front of the blank space, fingering his ring as he did so. Finally he signed a name, and closed the book. The word was a crude one in origin, 'Awyrgan,' from the tounges of the wild men of the Far North meaning condemned or strangled, but the letters were that of a refined writer of the Elvish scripts. Closing the book he passed it back to her.

She gestured towards the stairwell. "Upstairs and to your right." She picked up the key and headed towards the back of the Inn in the direction of the stables leaving Awyrgan standing alone. He watched her retreating figure for a brief moment and then turned and walked up the stairs where he found an open room, small, but more than suitable for his Spartan needs.

The door had no lock, but the man improvised and the room was soon secure enough for his taste. Setting himself down in a chair he pushed the window open, allowing the chill breeze to rush over him. Looking up, he found the North Star. Tracing an imaginary path that only he knew, he located the small, bright light in the sky that seemed to sing out to him and break through the stone surrounding his heart.

He sat smoking silently, deep in thought, with age-old lines running in deep channels across his relatively young face. After a time he rose silently and cast himself upon the bed and fell into a light sleep, for he had already slept longer than usual earlier in the evening.

Amanaduial the archer

07-07-2003, 02:28 PM

Aman made her way to the stables out the back after assigning Awyrgan his room. Awyrgan...Aman did not recognise the name as being Gondorin or Rohirrim, or of being similar to other types. It sounded more like a name of the Northen wild men, although she couldn't translate its meaning fully. Another odd thing about this man.

Stepping out into the cold night air, the Innkeeper gasped. It was Summer, yet the night was indeed more than chilly- she hugged herself and wished she had thought to bring her cloak. Still, she would not be long- she only had to check the horses and lock the stables up for the night. Hastening across the courtyard, her feet making no noise even on the stone paving, due to the soft soled shoes she was wearing, Aman did not notice the two figures conversing, a woman and a man. But when she reached the stables, she couldn't help stopping in surprise- the stables were enclosed by two large, wooden, double doors. And one of these doors was ajar.

Lantern held high to dispell shadows and the sudden thoughts of the thing in the cellar, Aman pushed open one of the doors, and the creak seemed to echo deafeningly and eerily in the silence. All seemed to be still in the stables, but... what was that?

Aman turned quickly, her eyes searching the darkness. Out of the corner of her eye, she had been sure she had seen a sudden movement. But now nothing was there, or not in the stables. The barn joined onto them, and, curiousity winning over dread, Aman walked briskly towards the barn, shining her light as far as she could around. But there was nothing there. Or not on the ground anyway...

A shadow suddenly passed above Aman, and she barely held back a yelp and she stepped backwards and looked up, trying to shine the feeble light of the lantern into the high rafters. In the hay bales, or behind the barrels of feed, or in the many nooks and crannies of the barn, or in the rafters... there were innumerate places that a person could hide, especially is they were agile and slim enough. Aman stepped a few steps further into the barn, looking around slowly, trying to see as much as she could at once....

The young woman whirled right around this time, as something passed behind her- right behind her, so close she had felt the breeze from it, had heard the slight rustle of clothing, just as she had in the cellar. She rushed into the stables...but there was no one there- she would have been able to see them; in a few seconds they couldn't have got right out, or have got well enough hidden as to avoid her gaze. That meant they had chosen to stay in the barn. A shiver ran up Aman's spine, and she remembered Derufin's yell. Something heavy enough as to overpower Derufin, to knock that drinks thing down on him...and it could be in this deserted barn with her.

Aman forced herself to keep her nerve. "Wh...who's there?" She called, knowing it was fruitless. There was no reply and the silence was becoming crushing, ominous. That was it- for pure practicality's sake, Aman was not staying in an empty barn, alone, past midnight. Well, she knew Derufin was up- she had see him go outside and unless he had come back in by some obscure way she did not know of, the stablemaster was still outside. He too had experienced this thing- she would find him. Forcing herself to walk calmly, not to run, Aman turned and walked out of the barn to find the stablemaster, the hairs on the back of her neck prickling with the feeling that she was being watched all the way.

Hilde Bracegirdle

07-07-2003, 05:25 PM

Gilly woke in the semidarkness with a start, her body shaking involuntarily at being so suddenly drug up from plumbing the depths of slumber. She listened quietly while trying to clear the fog in her mind, no floorboards creaking, but the sound of a heavy door opening in the distance. It was fairly peaceful except for the occasional explosion of laughter or quickly hushed shouts from the commons room below.

Through the open window the soft murmur of a man and woman speaking could be heard, the rustle of the north wind in the trees playing with their words, chasing them away across the clearing.

Is someone smoking a pipe in here?, Gilly thought as she fancied the room smelled rather like Longbottom leaf. She couldn’t imagine it was Benia and it was too strong to have been Silvanis earlier that evening.

The hobbit unfolded herself from the chair and clutching the fire iron she had armed herself with before retiring, lightly walked to the door of Benia’s room. In the dim moonlight she could see her friend propped up in bed, but could not make out if her eyes were open or shut. As she walked closer she saw the moonlight catch a stream of smoke sifting in through her open window. Crossing over, Gilly looked out to see the yard below and the faint figures of a couple by the well. The wind carried the sound of horses as the candle on the well guttered and was extinguished. No pipe there, she thought to herself.

“What foul dragon is that smoke coming from?” Gilly sighed closing the window as gently as possible before returning to perch in her chair in the adjoining room.

She pulled up her feet under her petticoats against the evening chill and laying the fire iron across her lap she tried to sort out just what she had to do at home to get ready for Carl’s sister and family’s extended visit. Somewhere between gifts and sleeping arrangements her tired mind became saturated and sunk into the deeps of slumber once again.

[ July 07, 2003: Message edited by: Hilde Bracegirdle ]

Kates Frodo Temp

07-07-2003, 08:37 PM

Aietmen woke with a start and instinctively leapt to his feet, standing protectively over Rosie's sleeping form. There had been footsteps. Just before he awoke, there had surely been footsteps. They would hesitate only a moment, he was sure, before coming in.

He scrambled to get Rosie into the deep shadows away from the door. I'm fast. I'm quiet. I can handle this. It took all of Aietmen's skill to stay one step ahead of the women who entered only seconds later.

She'll be back with help, and lights. I can't beat this! He knew there would be explaining to do, but when had he ever failed to charm all he met? Just go with it. Don't try to outrun them. You CAN beat this!

Was that a shout? They were coming. Stay calm. Just stay calm.

Elora

07-08-2003, 03:03 AM

Vanwe walked in somewhat bemused silence beside Silvanis towards the hill. She did not know why he would wish to darken the beauty of the evening with her mother. Like much concerning the human folk that she found herself admist from the moment of her birth, Vanwe found herself at a loss for a reason to speak as asked. Yet, she had no reason to deny Silvanis. Indeed, the offer of company was welcome. particularly after the latest trying day.

The hill was a gentle rise towards the evening sky, the lights of the inn winking below through the trees that swayed with the summer breeze. She chanced a look into Silvanis' face as they walked, to see what little he would let her study. He was a guarded man, a trait that ran in more than one Ranger in her experience.

Her thoughts stumbled across Kaldir at that and she jerked them away. Silvanis was right in that he would sell he without question. As dread at that thought spun through her, Vanwe wondered what she dreaded most. She could not decide whether it was treatment at Kaldir's cruel hands. She had endured cruelty before and had the braided leather to remind her of her ability to survive that. Perhaps it was the thought of returning to the village, and what lay in wait for her there. Deeper still though, was being bought and sold, which reinforced yet again how little she was worth.

The stars were silent witnesses to all this, and an infinate number of other events within Middle-earth. Silvanis and Vanwe came to the hill top and Vanwe turned to study the sky once more. Nameless stars, to her at least, watched back and she was glad that she had her knife still with which to finish the carving she had started earlier. She would like to hang a star in the stable, if she could and if it pleased Derufin.

"They are beautiful," she said to the night sky and realising that she had spoken turned back to Silvanis with a faint smile. She moved to sit on the grass, settling quickly and running her hands over her skirts to smooth them. They fell into the grass which was a little cool. Smooth and refreshing, she wound fingers through the blades as she held her returned pouch in her other hand.

Silvanis sat also, somewhat of an enigma to her. She looked again into his face, as if to somehow peel back some of the mystery and he steadily held her gaze. Vanwe's cheeks coloured a little when she realised she was staring.

"I am sorry," she said, "I do not know where to begin... my mother..."

"Begin as best seems fit to you," Silvanis suggested. Vanwe nodded, gathering her thoughts and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as she untied the pouch she was holding. She upended it into her lap, picking up the paper and ignored the purloined nub of a pencil and the coins that fell out with it.

"You probably know more of her than I do... she does not feel like a mother should," Vanwe admitted with sadness as she scanned the paper. Her notes, though sparse, represented a hard and dangerous road. She had risked much to gain what knowledge she had.

"Naiore Dannan is, by reputation alone, most unlike any woman," Silvanis added to soften the sadness that crept into Vanwe's voice. She nodded and smiled at him before she began.

"Some of what I know comes from the villagers I was left with. My mother fled to Harad immediately before the end of the War and there remained. She lived in small villages, moved around frequently.

Sometimes she left but always she returned. Once, she left for a long time, and returned with child. They said my father was dead, that she killed him, but I do not know for I cannot find him."

Silvanis nodded, gaze sweeping around the hilltop and coming back to rest on Vanwe as she spoke.

"His name, I think, is Menecin. She gave birth to me, left me with the villagers under the arrangement that I never leave the village, and left. She paid them well, but they were more concerned with the threats that accompanied the arrangement. She did not want me in her way. My name is a joke... I am the 'gift' she left behind."

Anger simmered beneath her words, and she shook her hair with some irritation from her eyes where the breeze had blown it. Vanwe took a deep breath and continued on.

"She never returned. When I left that place, I followed the road she was said to have taken when she left. It lead to Harondor. It was hard to find trace of her... the years since she had passed through were many in their count."

"What did you find," Silvanis asked with some interest.

"She was in Umbar. I found relatively recent traces of her there. She has a house, it is said, but I could not get into it. The City Guard mistook me for my mother and arrested me."

Vanwe continued through her list.

"Rumour has it she comes and goes from Umbar and uses the ports. She deals with buckaneers for her passage and few will refuse her. Belfalas is her home, and mine I suppose. I found her there too.

She was in Dol Amroth and Edhellond. The Rangers of Ithilien hunt her also. I could not speak to them on account of my difficulties in Umbar. Many do not wait to discern the colour of my eyes before they have the ropes ready. I could not get into Osgiliath, and her path seemed to lead north."

Vanwe went on to tick off locations where she had found some small trace of her mother. Minas Arnor appeared in the list, along with another period of incarcertaion, this time for being caught running goods for a cartel of thieves for the sake of some money. Many of the places Vanwe named were located in Rohan.

"She favours that land in particular. I do not know why," Vanwe said. She came then to her path as it led her towards Laurelindorenan.

"She was heading for Dol Guldur... an evil place as I am told. But I could not be sure, for Elves came and I could not stay," Vanwe said with a shudder.

Silvanis placed a hand on her arm to halt her.

"What is there to fear from your own kin?"
"What would my 'kin' as you say, make of me? Would they let me go on? I do not think so. Beyond that place, I have found rumour only of her and nothing of my father. I could not find his grave in Belfalas either.

Some rumours say she has gone south, and others that she is here in the north. I do not think she will be north long if she is here. It is too far from Rohan, and the south. My mother hates those lands with the most bitter of malice."

Vanwe fell silent for a long moment, staring at the view around the hill.

"Likely you have not learnt much from me at all. I make a poor spy. I will answer questions such as I can, if you think me any use. I have one of my own I would offer you."

Vanwe pointed to a bright star, the brightest in the sky to the north.

"Do you know the name of that star," she asked as it glimmered in fair beauty, casting back the shadow of her mother even as she spoke.

Snowdog

07-08-2003, 09:41 AM

'No, I have not learned much of Naiore, but for her trail. She has quite a price upon her head, and I am sure my former cohort in arms either knows or will take interest in this. As for me, I have not seen her, but have heard rumor of her in Rohan, the land of my mother.'

I only led on a bit, and I looked at the star Vanwe pointed out.

'I call that one the Watcher, for it is sometimes my only friend in the days of hazy cloudcover up north.'

I looked at Vanwe and could see her pain, and also her guarding of the notes she had in the pouch. I lay back in the grass and looked at the night sky so bright in its blackness, with the only other light the dim glow of candles and lanterns in rooms at the Inn. the stars marched their paths across the sky, and little was said between them. Dreams of a grove of trees unnamed passed by in fleeting visions, and a solid rest in the chill night was found, to be stirred by the first light and the ever reaching rays of the eastern sun.

Amanaduial the archer

07-08-2003, 10:53 AM

A sound again behind her, and for a moment Aman's heart beat sped up even further and she was on the verge of running, before she stopped. She felt foolish all of a sudden- imagine running away like this, running from something that might not even be very much at all. Had she not dealt with horse-thieves before in Rohan? Yes, her brain replied in a small voice, but you had a weapon then.

She hovered for a moment in the doorway of the barn, loath to run back to the Inn to fetch people from their beds at such a late hour when there might not be any need, but not altogether keen to go back in unarmed, when a thought hit her and she smiled to herself. Of course, she didn't need to go all the way into the Inn to get the sword or wooden club behind the bar- she had the choice of several prime weapons from the Inn's very customers. The keys still hung at her waist, and in them was the key to the weapons box, now locked- there were only two keys to that, one held by herself, the other by the unshakeable Vinca Bunce, from the time when Dwarin had been Innkeeper- not even Derufin held a key to this. Aman knew it was probably wrong to use the weapons of the Inn's customers when they had been entrusted like this, but, she reasoned, it was really for their protection. Or the protection of their horses and ponies at least- Aman would not allow a horse theft.

Running to the Inn door where the weapons compartment was, Aman fumbled with the keys, identifying them by touch, until she came to the small, inconspicuous silver one that opened the weapons box- it wasn't as large as some of the others so it wouldn't draw attention and if someone was to steal the keys, they certainly wouldn't guess that this one was the key to all of the weapons (bar Aman's own) in the Inn. She twisted the key twice in the complex lock, and heard the small, satisfying click as it opened. Opening the door to the compartment, Aman surveyed the wide array of weapons within, and couldn't help being surprised- the many denizens of the Inn certainly did come well armed! She didn't take alot of time to think about it though, quickly selecting a long, silver sword, elven looking in design, quite light and about the right length and weight for her; easily manoevurable, but able to inflict the damage which might be necessary.

Aman just hoped it wouldn't be necessary as she scurried back to the barn, lantern in her left hand, sword in her right, held in an expert grip. Despite her skill with a sword, she had heard of sword thefts in such large Inns before; her stomach turned over for a moment as she thought of one in Rohan, at the White Horse. That had proved disastrous, for the horse theives and the denizens of the Inn. Why the guard on duty had been murdered...

Shaking back these thoughts, Aman pressed into the Inn, lantern still held in front of her, tensed to move quickly. Taking a deep breath, she called again.

"Who is in here? Show yourself!"

Kates Frodo Temp

07-08-2003, 11:46 AM

Aietmen hesitated for only a moment before stepping into the lantern light. He looked pleadingly up into the woman's eyes. She's afraid!

One small hobbit boy stood trembling before Aman. He was frightened, but his blue eyes laughed. He was defiant, yet somehow not threaghtening. Though dressed in rags, he was not a creature to be pitied.

"Y-you don't understand..." Quickly Aietmen recovered. "I'm not a theif!" He shouted, eyeing her weapon. What now? She is not heartless, surely.

"She needs help!" He pointed to Rosie, who was still sleeping as if she would never wake. "That's Rosemary Brandybuck, and she needs to go home."

[ July 08, 2003: Message edited by: Kates Frodo Temp ]

[ July 08, 2003: Message edited by: Kates Frodo Temp ]

Amanaduial the archer

07-08-2003, 01:03 PM

Aman relaxed as she saw it was only a hobbit boy, but she was more than a little angry along with the relief.

"You're not a thief? Then just what exactly were you doing creeping around these stables, hmm?" Aman strode forward, grabbing the little boy's arm as he attempted to run. He struggled for a bit, then stopped, his blue eyes pleading with Aman.

"Look, she needs help! That's Rosemary Brandybuck and she needs to go home!" He cried out. Aman looked up in the direction he was pointing, still keeping a firm hold on the boy's arm. Squinting more closely into the darkness, she did indeed see a small, still form, dressed similarly to the little boy.

"Goodness grief..." Aman murmered. She had expected a horse thief, and had ended up with two ragged, runaway hobbits. Or she certainly suspected him to be a runaway at any rate. Eyeing him critically, she resisted the temptation to go straight to the hobbit girl- she had to remain firm. She had seen the laughter in the boy's eyes, and had no doubt that, despite his protests, he was most certainly a wannabe-horse thief. "What about you? Who are you- don't you need to be home as well?"

The boy didn't answer immediately, and in that moment of hesitation, another gust of wind blew suddenly through the barn. Aman shivered, and so did the little hobbit boy- dressed in such ragged garb, he would be feeling the cold even more than the Innkeeper. She gave in, rolling her eyes and standing to walk briskly over to the hobbit lass, keeping her grip tightly on the boy's arm. She didn't want him to bolt and had very little doubt that he was lying, but who knew how bad the little girl was?

Letting go off the boy's arm slowly, Aman pushed the hay off the little girl and, carefully, she scooped her into her arms. The little girl was indeed quite thin and was sleeping very deeply by the looks of it. "A brandybuck you say? Well, Cami is not going to like this one bit..."

piosenniel

07-08-2003, 01:19 PM

To refresh everyone's memory:

Green Dragon Inn Facts:

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

King Elessar is on the throne.

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

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

The Innkeeper, in the Green Dragon Inn of this forum, is:

Aman – a young woman from Rohan. Before her, the Innkeeper was Piosenniel, and before her it was Dwarin, the Dwarf.

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

Other ongoing characters in the Inn:

Derufin, a Man from Ethring in the Ringló Vale, is the stablemaster and general handyman/jack of all trades for the Inn.

Vinca Bunce, Hobbit – ‘Cook’ – widowed runs the kitchen

Ruby Brown, Hobbit – not married – server and maid

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

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

Ongoing characters from outside the Inn:

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

Amaranthas Bolger – very old, crotchety Hobbit from Hobbiton, nicknamed ‘The Dragon’

Piosenniel – Elven, Innkeeper prior to Aman; married to Mithadan; has two children: a twin boy and girl; as yet unnamed infants.

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

At present it is a pleasant, clear night in the Shire. The season is mid-Summer.

Kates Frodo Temp

07-08-2003, 06:20 PM

"Lemme go! I wasn't hurting anything!" Aietmen was frantic. "Get Rosie inside, and I'll explain. She's starving! Get her out of here! Gerroffa me!"

With a long, shuddering sigh he sank to the ground as Aman lifted his friend. There's no way she'll leave Rosie out here. Meanwhile, how am I to make her believe I'm not a thief? At least, not a horse thief. A tired smile flitted across Aietmen's face.

Wake up! There's no time for reflection! Quickly, his hand closed around the handle of the light sword the inn keeper had let fall as she held Rosie. He stared at it for a second before flinging it into the darkness at the back of the stable. Then, Aietmen bolted for the door.

Elora

07-08-2003, 09:46 PM

Vanwe let the silence grow as seemed natural. The star named Watcher fulfilled its namesake. Vanwe wondered if a star could be a friend. When she looked back, she saw that Silvanis had stretched out. She was loathe to disrupt his peace. Perhaps he knew where her mother was better than she. She would ask him, if she could do so. It had not been easy to speak of her mother as she had.

In fact, Vanwe had never spoken at such length about her mother. Snipets of tales, told to her by villagers and those she encountered in Rohan ebbed and flowed. Rohan was his mother's land. How she must hate Naiore for what she has done to Rohan. She glanced down at her notes, which she had gripped tightly in her distress and relaxed her fingers.

A price was on her mother's head, and one perhaps on her own. Not only that, the one who may seek to claim Vanwe's gold price had reason to hate her mother also. She remembered the sense of wrongness and suffering that emanated from him with the intensity of a healer's senses. As Silvanis lay on the grass, Vanwe placed the paper back in the pouch and set it to one side. She had no stomach to further ponder such things.

The Elf maiden sighed, quietly so as not to disturb Silvanis, and looked skyward once more. The Watcher winked and gleamed, and she smiled back. A friend...

"How can she cause so much pain," Vanwe asked the Watcher in a quiet voice. "How can that not pass in turn to her daughter?"

It was a question that troubled her. She avoided all weaponry, excluding her belt knife, for that reason more than any penalty that may come from the villagers if she was discovered to be armed. She applied her skills to wood and animals most freely, hesitant indeed to extend them to people, for the same reason. She did not understand her mother's abilities, but she suspected that in some way she had also that capacity within her.

Had Vanwe the benefit of her kin, Galadriel foremost, she would know it is not the skill but the heart that determines what is done with it. But all Vanwe had was a starry sky and at that moment a Ranger who she thought was sleeping. So she whispered to the sky. When no answer came, Vanwe stretched out on her stomach, hands folded beneath her chin on the grass, legs dangling in the air.

A little more of the night passed, and Vanwe was unable to sleep just yet. Her mother weighed on her mind too heavily. So, again quietly, in a soft and sweet voice, she began to hum and then sing to the evening. It was this sort of behaviour that earnt her much condemnation from the villagers. Without them to wave their fists or cuff her, Vanwe found herself falling into song.

It was long before her eyes closed and memory converged upon her. Sleep did find her though, and she curled into it's peace with a sigh, after checking upon Silvanis, her pouch forgotten near one outstretched hand.

Orofaniel

07-09-2003, 09:40 AM

It was clear mid-summer night in the Shire. Waddgo and Wadigo, the two hobbit brothers thought they'd just enterd a very fine Inn. The Inn was lightful and merry. The tables were full seated with people, men and hobbits. Elves and dwarves. Their chatting voices were loud and their laughter filled the whole room.

The two brothers seated at a table in the coner.

"Nice Inn," Waddgo said while a they were waiting to order. Wadigo nodded.

After a minute of waiting they were ordering beers and good hobbit food, or what they considered to be good food. The food soon arived and the two hobbits were having a pleasent time. Then they saw something in the door that wasn't pleasent at all. It was their mother! Well, they couldn't blame her for looking for them, they were only 13 and 14. But they looked rather old so none at the Inn could figure that they were that young.

"What shall we do?" Wadigo exclamed as soon as he'd indentified the thick hobbit woman in the door.

"I don't know," Waddgo looking rather worried. The hoobit lady, whcih by the way was called Firetty was drawing closer. Luckely the two brothers sat in the corner and wasn't easily noticed.

"Let's sneek out," Waddgo said suddenly. His brother couldn't really stop him, even though he thought it wasn't a really clever idea, beacuse his brother was already on his feet.

Waddgo and Wadigo were now leaving the table without paying, and they were sneaking themselves towards the door. Their mother didn't notice them, so she asked the maid that had taken their orders if she had seen them.

"They are both looking quite old, considering their age. They have both red hair and frencles all over their faces. The one is taller than the other and they are here without my leave!" She said stern. The brothers could hear her, because she wasn't only talking to the maid, the whole room was silent and heard all her words. The crowed turned around and started looking out for them with watchful eyes. Then the maid finally answerd the hobbit lady's question.

"Well, They just ordered, food and beer, at the table in the corner." She was pointing at the table, but the brothers weren't near it.

"Beer, you say?" the lady hobbit repeated.

Then suddenly a voice filled the air;" I've found them," it said and rushed over towards the maid and the hobbit lady.

"Where? where?" She asked quickly.

"There," the man pointed under a table.

The hobbit lady rushed over to the table, ragged the brothers out and rushed towards the door, with them of course. The whole crowd of people that had been watching started laughing as they left and neither the hobbit lady or the brothers were never seen at the Inn again.

[ July 09, 2003: Message edited by: Orofaniel ]

piosenniel

07-09-2003, 09:45 AM

~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Notice of New RPG Opening ~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Himaran and Carrûn invite you to take a look at their exciting new Game: FLIGHT FROM ROHAN.

The Discussion Thread is now open to take on players.

smilies/biggrin.gif Come design a character and join in on the adventure! smilies/biggrin.gif

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

Snowdog

07-10-2003, 12:13 PM

A new day was brewing as the horizon started to light. Blackveil had wandered over to wake Silvanis with a nudge, letting him know she was getting tired of lingering and wanted to run. Nearby lay Vanwe, who seemed to stir in the first rays, and Silvanis stood stretching.

'A fine day this will be, though I must ride to Bree for a time. However, I will return soon, and wish to converse with you again Lady Vanwe.'

With a nod as he mounted Blackveil, he turned twice, once to look to Vanwe, and again toward the Inn and remembering all Lady Nightshade had said to him. He thought of going back into the Inn to see her before leaving, but knew he would be detained another day. So with a nudge to Blackveil's flanks, they were off down the road east toward the Brandybuck bridge.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(I will be out of this RP for awhile, returning in the number of days it will take to ride to Bree, hang about a little, and return.. about a week of RP time.)

piosenniel

07-10-2003, 12:17 PM

PLEASE NOTE: With Snowdog's post just before this - Night is done, and Day has come to the Shire.

Vanataurien

07-10-2003, 12:19 PM

The door creaked open, as a green-cloaked, pointy-eared maiden entered. She shook her head slightly as she entered, though not of a sign of distaste. She smiled at the barkeep, and walked over, hazel-grey eyes glinting fondly at the thought of beer... or alcohol of any kind. It had been a long time in getting here, and she had been denied the substance of her being, beer. She'd grown a love for it here, in the Shire on her visit before last.

"May I please have a pint," she asked the barkeeper, smiling friendily. The barkeeper smiled back, and went to pour her her ale.

"Thank you," Vanataurien said, as she was nodded to and got her drink handed to her. She headed to an unoccupied table, took a good, long drink of the firey liquid, then proceeded to analyse the other occupants.

[ July 10, 2003: Message edited by: Vanataurien ]

Gorothlammothiel

07-10-2003, 04:21 PM

Soronume's table had become very quiet of late, over the last few days the Lady Niniel had departed their company and the star-maiden seemed quite content with the company of this new companion. Even Mardath seemed to have parted company without so much as a word.

He had left the table the night before and now Soronume was making his way back towards the inn, before the morning sun rose too high. Soronume had always enjoyed a clear summers night, though he knew many that wouldn't dream of being outside during the dark hours of the twilight sky.

Nearby the entrance to the inn he stood and called quietly to his horse. Using a bucket from the inn's stables, he filled it with water and placed it down for the creature. Patting the deep grey horse on its back as it drank he turned and made his way back to the inn's door.

Pushing the door aside he stepped again into the common room of the inn that was all so familiar to him now. Though it didn't seem it, Soronume was now becoming a regular to this inn, of sorts. He had certainly seen the inn change hands a time or two. Though currently still in the hands of the dear Aman, who he had conversed with on several occaisions, Soronume could not see the innkeeper anywhere inside. He thought that perhaps she had busied herself in the kitchen currently, she never did seem to rest.

He gazed around the room with interest, even though he had been here so many times before, Soronume never did seem to tire of the new faces the inn attracted. Looking over to a far corner of the inn he notcied an elven maiden alone sipping a drink she held tightly in her hand as she studied the room.

As Soronume made his way across the busy room a young hobbit who wasn't looking where she was going, obviously in a hurry, ran into him. She was quick to apologise to him but as she looked up she stopped with a start. Soronume realised that he hadn't yet taken down his hood from his head. He reached and unmasked his face. "I'm sorry miss, I hadn't realised. What a sight I must look in the shadows" he said with a smile. "There is no need to apologise to me, I should look also where I am walking, no?" The hobbit maiden just giggled at him and moved on across the room.

Soronume reached the table where the elven maiden had been sitting alone. "I'm sorry to disturb you miss, would you mind so very much if I were to join you?" he asked quietly. She looked up to him and seemed to study him for a moment.

Vanataurien

07-10-2003, 04:31 PM

Vanataurien looked at Soronume, cautiously considering him. "Very well, if it so pleases you." she said, and watched him sit down.

Vanataurien took a decidedly more ladylike gulp of her ale. Well, there is a newcomer, best be friendly! she thought.

Putting on her most polite and happy face (very hard to muster this morning, the evening had been difficult for sleeping), and said. "My name is Vanataurien Highmoon. May I ask of yours?" she said, extending a mainly bloodless hand. As she did so, she glimpsed his features more solidly. Wait, had she not made his aqcuaintance before...?

Lady Dwarf

07-10-2003, 06:41 PM

I walked down the main road in the strange place of the Shire. All the little hobbits running about, it was rather amusing. I still couldn't find an inn, so I decided to ask the next local I found. "Excuse me sir," I asked a young hobbit, "Could you give me directions to the nearest inn?"

"That'd be the Green Dragon. Fine inn indeed, that it is." he replied. "Who might you be?"

"My name is Varin," I replied. "Where could I find the inn?"

"Just continue along this road here and you'll find it," the hobbit said. "You're a dwarf, aren't you? But where's you beard?" He thought for a moment, "You must be a lady dwarf! I've never seen a lady dwarf before. What are you doing in the Shire?"

"Oh, just travelling," I replied, not wishing to say much more. "Good day, and thank you." With that I left for the Green Dragon Inn.

A bit farther down the road I saw it. It was a nice looking inn. I went inside and got a room. I placed my few things in it and went down to the common-room. I ordered a pint and sat watching all the different people here.

girl

Carrûn

07-10-2003, 07:22 PM

Awyrgan awoke early with a solid thump, and picking himself up from the hardwood floor where he had fallen, rose with the morning Sun. He had had an unpleasent dream regarding his departed parents and was rather shaken until he was sure he was awake. He pieced a few of the pieces of the nightmare together, recognized them as a combination of many of his experiences, and pushed them out of his mind.

He stretched, cracking his back and cursing softly as he did so. He reached for his pipe only to discover he was completely out of leaf. This brought a more severe round of swearing from the weathered man and his green eyes flashed as his pipe soared soudly across the room landing with a "thunk" by the stool.

Slapping the sleep from his face, the man shuffled to where the basin of cold water sat on the small table. Splashing his face he managed to procure a razor from one of his pockets, and shaved. It wasn't something he did often, as a beard helped protect against insects while in the wild. He changed into a clean set of clothing, still his trademark black. Pressing his father's ring to his lips he muttered an old singsong prayer, and then moved to clear the barricade he had made in front of the door.

Opening the now clear doorway, he made his way down the stairs into the Common Room. Only a few of the other patrons were up and Awrygan found himself a seat at the corner of the bar. For some reason or another he was in a dark mood and had little desire for human interaction. Still, he made a note to locate the Innkeeper and make good on his end of the bargin. Moreover, he was rather hungry even though he would not admit it even to himself. He did not see the Innkeeper, but assumed that she was somewhere taking care of business and would be around eventually.

The smell of food began to rise from the kitchen and the man had half a mind to tour the back room and see what was available. He changed his mind quickly, remembering that most Inn horror stories had their roots in people tresspassing on a Cook's domain. He shuddered slighly at the memory of the Cooks of Harad. A brutal tale, but it made for good telling when the time was right. One server was making the rounds and Awyrgan stopped them long enough to grab a pint. He sat sipping it slowly, clearing his mind from the fog of the previous night.

Nerindel

07-10-2003, 08:28 PM

The Previous Night

"I saw someone sneaking about the stable" she quickly improvised.

"some of the guests have been complaining of a shifty looking ranger and he seemed to be taking a great interest in our southern guest and a few others" she added thinking it what do well to keep the innkeeper informed of such things. but her eyes still strayed to the door with concern.

Aman had not heard a word she had said, The man who she had been trying to rouse had awoken and asked for a room, so she had took that moment to silently slip away.

As she opened the door to the inn she had seen two figures walking silently from the well to a small grassy knoll, Léspheria had smiled and relaxed as she recognised that Vanwe was with Silvanis. She had quietly slipped back into the inn, secure in the knowledge that Vanwe was in safe hand. If someone was to ask her how she could be sure, she would not have be able to express it in words, she just knew, She sensed his honour and trust.

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

Léspheria had slept well considering all the things that had happened since her arrival at the inn, as she opened her window she saw Silvanis depart and Vanwe head back to the stables, Stables! that reminded her that Lossëserme would be in need of a good run. She quickly dressed in skirts of forest green, she picked up her harp belted on her short sword and made for the stable grabbing two apples as she passed through the kitchen "I'm going for a short ride" she shouted back to cook, as she left, she was sure she could hear the hobbit woman tutting as she left.

when she opened the large oak doors of the stable she could not see Vanwe, but Lossëserme whinnied at her presence, Lossëserme nuzzled onto her as she stoked the mares snow white mane, "Ok, Ok, she laughed holding out the apple that mare was looking for, as Lossëserme ate Lespheria took down her tack and saddled her up. she gently ran her hand across Lossëserme's flank and was surprised at how well groomed she was, Lespheria's white mare had always been quiet stubborn when it came to grooming, "I hope you did not cause to much of a fuss " she laughed merrily.

"are you ready my friend" she asked taking the reigns and leading Lossëserme gently from her stall into the bright summers morning, but just as she was about to mount she felt a sharp pain in her side, she screamed and Lossëserme whinnied wildly as her mistress fell to the ground.

Elora

07-10-2003, 09:01 PM

Vanwe watched Silvanis ride into the morning, and raised her hand in farewell. She gave him a smile and had nodded at his request to speak with her again, for she wished also to speak with him. There was much yet undone and just maybe she could be of assistance to another instead of a burr in their sides.

Vanwe watched the morning unfold a little more, still on the hilltop. She bent, after a time, to collect her pouch and tied it securely to her belt. Then she took to the trees and made for the stream she had found to run cool water over her face. She walked swiftly on light feet through the morning light, and though she checked, Kaldir did not reveal himself to her in the shadowed trees.

She did not have Watcher as a friend in the daylight, and so she was wary. Yet, she was also guilty at having been absent from the stables for so long. She could not avoid them forever if she was to keep the only thing between shelter and desitute homelessness. Compared to the rough hut that had passed for a home, the stable was luxuriant.

Vanwe was soon on her way back towards the inn, haste causing her to run through the trees, hair streaming behind her. Ignoring the rumble of her stomach, hunger was no new thing for her, she made straight for the stables. She slowed, caution driving her to scan the structure for the other Ranger. Yet, as she walked she heard a scream from within, and Vanwe was running forward once again.

She found Lespheria lying on the stable floor, a horse in great distress near by. It's eyes rolled at her, and it shook it's head in a wild whinny, nostrils flaring. Vanwe, cautious of the horse, rose a hand towards it. Murmuring soothing words in a sweet and low voice, she sidled towards Lespheria. The other woman lay motionless on the ground.

Vanwe saw no dagger nor wound, yet a hand was outstretched past her head as if she sought aid. Baffled, Vanwe knelt by Lespheria and examined what she could see with greater attention. No sign of injury of wound could be seen.

"Lespheria! Lespheria, it is me, Vanwe," she said to the woman. When no response came, Vanwe galvanised into action. She placed a hand on Lespheria's shoulder and extended her senses. Noone was nearby to see her, and so Vanwe worked without consideration for masking her activities.

Her eyes closed as she explored Lespheria's stricken state. Finding no injury to spine or head, Vanwe gently rolled Lespheria to her back, and brushed hair and dust back from the Elf's face. Her eyes were closed, and her face pale. Bewildered, Vanwe bent slightly towards Lespheria and again extended her senses in an attempt to heal whatever ailed her.

Naturally skilled as she was, Vanwe moved by instinct. A trained healer may hesitate to move so boldly before knowing the nature of the injury or illness to be healed. Vanwe, however, was moved by the impulse to aid as she could as soon as she could. From time to time, Vanwe's lips moved to sound Lespheria's name, as though she called to the other woman. She bent over her on the stable floor, Lesperhia's horse anxious still but somewhat quietened as it sensed what Vanwe was attempting. All were locked in silcence, bar the calling of Lespheria's name, in the pool of morning light that entered through the open stable doors. Vanwe and Lespheria were lost both to the world around them, as Vanwe struggled to find and heal the wrongness that had wrenched that terrible scream.

Everdawn

07-11-2003, 12:43 AM

Madea woke late in the day, and returned downstaired to where she already saw Hathorn sitting at a table, breakfast for two was laid out in front of him.

"Hello" said Madea. Hathorn simply nodded his head to say he had seen her. He was bent over a piece of parchment. "What are you doing?" she asked, pulling her plate back in front of her. It took a while for him to answer. "I am writing to your father." Madea almost spat across the table. Her dark eyes shining. "Now! really!"

Hathorn on the other hand did not seem impressed. "Madea, this is very serious. If we want things to go as smoothly as we would like I have to take my time to explain exactly why you are not going to reside in Dol Amroth anymore and marry me and live in Minas Tirith." then he smiled.
"I know, you are right Hathorn, what if it did go wrong? no we musent think such things."

She reached for his hand. "I am very greatful to you, and the sooner we can go the better, so keep writing!"

Gorothlammothiel

07-11-2003, 06:53 AM

"My name is Vanataurien Highmoon. May I ask of yours?"

"Certainly. I am Soronume" he replied to Vanataurien as he took up her hand in greeting. She was looking upon him with great interest it seemed. "Is something the matter m'lady?" he enquired. "No" she was quick to reply, "well not as such" she continued. "I cannot help but think that I have seen you before."

"Nay, I do not believe so, though my memory can serve me poorly at times. Have you rested in this inn before?" The maiden shook her head. "Then perhaps you have mistaken me for someone else?" Soronume asked with a slight smile, hoping that Vanataurien would not take this comment to heart.

Vanataurien

07-11-2003, 09:48 AM

"Then perhaps you have mistaken me for someone else?" Soronume asked with a slight smile, hoping that Vanataurien would not take this comment to heart.

"Perhaps," Vanataurien said, her eyes glazing over momentarily. Soronume looked much like another she had met close to here long ago... but it couldn't be him, Soronume appeared too nice, too polite.

"Do you come by this place often?" Vanataurien said, as Soronume seemed to consider how to reply. He nodded his head.

"I have been past here before, but have never stayed at this inn, it's quite comfortable," she commented, attempting to cover the awkward silence she had created a moment ago.

DivaStar

07-11-2003, 11:13 AM

Eromir opened the door to the Inn and removed his dark green cape. He was very young, maybe about 25. He looked around for a seat, and found one in a dark corner.

He orderd some food and was looking around at the other that were talking and laughing around him. He looked around for someone to talk to.

[ July 11, 2003: Message edited by: DivaStar ]

Tinuviel of Denton

07-11-2003, 11:36 AM

Niniel awoke, embarrassed to realize that she'd dozed off outside the Inn and it was now morning. She stretched a little, then stood and reentered the Inn. The table at which she'd been sitting the day before had almost emptied. Elwen and Dorelnar were still there, but Soronume and (for which she was somewhat grateful) Mardath had left.

No, wait, Soronume was over at another table with another elf. Bother. She didn't want to interrupt, but...

Niniel bumped into a young man about her age, who was making for the corner she'd sat in when she first came to the Inn. He looked a little lost. She murmured a quick "Excuse me," and blushed.

DivaStar

07-11-2003, 11:53 AM

Eromir looked up and saw a young woman.
"Oh, hello. I didnt notice you.", he said a little bit embarresd.

"May I help you, my Lady?", he said. He saw in her eyes hat something was wrong.

[ July 11, 2003: Message edited by: DivaStar ]

Lady Dwarf

07-11-2003, 05:58 PM

I went outside for some fresh air. The last night had been a long one. The small town was just waking up when I finally went back into the inn.

I sat down and ordered some food and a drink. After finishing, I went to find someone to speak with.

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

Cerulean Fire

07-11-2003, 06:25 PM

Chrestienne wandered over to where Niniel was standing. The other woman was blushing, having just bumped into a total stranger. Chrestienne smiled at the scene, so similar to one in her past. She had done just the same thing in the inn at home and-

She stopped that line of thought abruptly. Thinking about what had happened just a few months after that chance encounter was far too painful to bear. Pasting a cheery smile on her face, she tapped Niniel's shoulder.

"Good day to you," she said. She steered Niniel away from the young man. "I don't believe I ever had the opportunity to answer your question from the other night. Would you care to hear the tale now, while it is still bright and warm out?"

[ July 11, 2003: Message edited by: Cerulean Fire ]

littlemanpoet

07-11-2003, 09:26 PM

It was mid morning when a chestnut charger galloped into town out of the west, riderless. He stopped and walked one way then another in the town square not far from the "Battle of Bywater" memorial. The saddle was still on his back, the bit in his mouth. His ears were held back against his mane and he was sweating.

He stopped and sniffed the air and looked about, and his eyes calmed as he saw a building that called to his memory with warmth and hay and the open and safe field behind. He trotted toward it and waited just outside, his ears perking to the sound of his kind breathing and eating peacably inside.

[ July 11, 2003: Message edited by: littlemanpoet ]

Envinyatar

07-11-2003, 10:29 PM

He had risen early that morning and taken the cart northwest to Rushock Bog. The skunk lilies were in bloom and he was determined to catch the first light on them. She had given him a small kit when she left – pen and ink and papers, and told him to capture the Shire for her until she returned. He smiled as he touched the roll of pictures he had done. He had believed, at first, that he did them for her, but she had known he would learn he did them for himself. His fingers lingered on the surface of the paper, its smoothness recalling the feel of his hand against her face. Even now she called him back to himself and to life.

The sight of the great horse standing patiently by the window on the south side of the stable surprised him as he turned up the path to the Inn. Urging Nettle to a quicker pace with the flick of the reins, he squinted in the bright midmorning sun, trying to discern if anyone were taking care of the beast. He could tell, even from this distance, that the horse had been ridden hard. The sweat from its exertions still shone on its flanks, and he could see its nostrils flare, as it inhaled.

‘Where’s Vanwë?’ he said to himself, frowning as he looked toward the stable. ‘Why has she left that horse standing out in the open?’

He drew up near the charger, and it shied away a few steps at the pony’s plodding approach. His frown deepened. ‘That is Eodwine’s horse, if I’m not mistaken. But surely he would not leave his horse untethered and uncared for.’ Derufin climbed slowly from the cart, and supporting himself on his cane, walked slowly to the chestnut. Speaking softly, his hands sure on the reins, he led the horse into the stable and stripped him of his bridle and saddle. He wiped him down, and put him into one of the empty stalls, a nosebag of oats for his morning meal.

‘I’ll be back directly,’ he spoke to the horse, now munching happily on the sweet grains. ‘Just let me find Eodwine, and find what brought him here in such haste.’ Walking to his quarters, he peeked in. Eodwine’s bed was bare of any traveling bags, and indeed the room appeared as unoccupied as it had when Derufin had left that morning.

He looked out the windows on each side of the stable, but still saw no sign of the man. The charger was by this time done with his oats, and he nodded his head up and down vigorously, wanting the bag off. Derufin forked some hay into the manger and taking the bag from the horse, hung it on the nail in the door post.

Locking the stall door behind him as he left, he hobbled into the Inn thinking to find Eodwine there . . .

DivaStar

07-12-2003, 02:20 AM

Eromir smiled to the young woman and sat down once more in his dark corner. He started eating and looked at a elf female that was staring at him from a table across the room. He ignored the elf, but the elf just continued look at him. Maybe she recognized him. Then he would be doomed. He put his dark green cape to cover his face. He raised from the cahir and walked over to the entrance."Im going to Rohan right now." he thought. "I cant stay here any longer, they will recognize me and bring me back."

He took his sword that he left by the door and walked over to the stables across the streets. It was late, but he couldnt stay here, so jumped up on the horse and just disappeared in the darkness.

Ealasaid

07-12-2003, 03:33 AM

It had been too easy. As Vanwe and Silvanis had had their little talk on the grassy hillock the night before, Kaldir had listened for awhile before growing bored. What the two of them had had to say to one another was of little consequence to him. He already knew most of what Vanwe had had to impart. Leaving them to their conversation, he had stayed in the shadows and drifted around to the side of the inn to see what access was like to the upper rooms. What he found delighted him. Ivy grew up the walls and around the window of the room that housed Benia, the desert woman. He saw Gilly, the desert woman's hobbit friend come in and close the window during the night. Once he had waited awhile for her to get settled again, he simply scaled the ivy to the desert woman's second floor window and broke the latch, letting himself in. As luck would have it, Gilly slept in the adjacent room, posing no threat of interuption.

It had taken mere seconds for him to bind the woman foot and ankle, stuffing a handkerchief in her mouth to prevent her from crying out. She did awaken and start to struggle, but, when he reminded her softly that the first person to arrive and be slain would more than likely be Gilly, she simply closed her amber eyes and allowed him to sling her across his shoulder. He left the same way he had come in, carrying her away from the grounds of the Green Dragon on foot to a hiding place he had procured the day before he arrived at the inn. He was just returning to the inn for his horse when he heard the elf woman Lespheria cry out and fall from her horse. He saw Vanwe run to her aid.

Curious, but also concerned, as he had a liking and a sort of respect for Lespheria, Kaldir went to where she lay. He knealt down beside the elf women.

"What happened?" he asked Vanwe. Seeing no visible wounds on Lespheria, he was troubled by the way she had clutched her side before falling. "Is she ill?"

Vanwe whipped around to look at him, the sharp edge of fear in her eyes. Recognition and accusation registered there as well.

Kaldir shook his head. "Nay, I had nothing to do with the lady's misadventure," he told Vanwe, thinking all the while that here was another missed opportunity. If he had not felt such regard for Lespheria, he might have left her to her fate and grabbed Vanwe right then to add to his collection of captured fugitives. But, he wished no harm to befall Lespheria. Vanwe could carry on in her efforts to aid her. "I merely wish to help you," he added. "Do you think she could be moved? She would be better served and better cared for in the inn than out here in the stable."

Still obviously apprehensive of him, Vanwe nodded and stepped out of the way. Kaldir bent over Lespheria and gathered her up in his arms to carry her back to the inn.

[ July 12, 2003: Message edited by: Ealasaid ]

DivaStar

07-12-2003, 09:36 AM

The young hobbit opened the door and removed his mantle and left his walking stick and shortsword by the door. The hobbit walked over to Aman.
"Good morning my friend, do you have any rooms for the night?", he said and smiled.
"Yes we got a room left in hobbit size, if you whant", Aman said and smiled back.
"That would be perfect", he said.
"Then its room number four, and here is the key. My I have your name please?", Aman said.
"My name is Halfred Cotton", he said gently.

He sat down and orderd som meat and ale. He heard a few dwarves talking about treasures and adventures at the table next to his. A lonely elf sat in another corner and talking to a human. He couldnt see any hobbits around and would love to talk to anyone, even a dwarf.

[ July 12, 2003: Message edited by: DivaStar ]

[ July 14, 2003: Message edited by: DivaStar ]

Amanaduial the archer

07-12-2003, 03:36 PM

Aman deposited the broom she had been carrying and retrived the log book from the bar. Bringing it over to the hobbit who had intoduced himself as Halfred, she showed him where to sign and took the small deposit. The little hobbit was quite genial, smiling happily, but thoughtfully, at her. She would have stayd to talk to him if more pressing things had not been on her mind, and hoped another soon would.

Exiting the Common Room, Aman went into her own quarters to the little sitting room which joined onto her room. In there had been set out a hasty bed, and on it lay a small, continuingly still form. Beside the bed, Cami was sitting in a rocking chair, watching the little figure, worry etched on her face. Aman closed the door behind her with only a soft click, and spoke quietly, almost in a whisper, to Cami.

"How is she?"

Cami glanced back down at the figure of Rosie Brandybuck, then up at Aman again, standing and walking over. "Better I think. Her breathing is not so shallow as last night, but I couldn't get her to eat. She lies so still!" Cami's usually cheerful face wore a worried frown and she looked back at Rosiem, before continuing almost as an afterthought. "She said something though, last night- a name, I think. Aiten, Aymne...something like that." She paused, then seemed to say as an afterthought, "What was the name of the little boy?"

Aman shrugged. "I don't know, I'm afraid. He was gone so fast. Scared little creature, all skin, bone, and wide eyes. I don't suppose he will have strayed very far though," she added thoughtfully. "He did seem awfully worried about Rosie. Still, if he is around, no doubt he will show up." She forced cheerfullness into her voice, and was about to add more, when Rosie stirred, giving a small moan. Cami hastened to her side and the younger hobbit said something so quietly Aman didn't hear. Cami looked up, confusion and frustration in her eyes.

"Ai-yitman?"

Aman shrugged. "Cook will bring some breakfast along soon, for both of you. Did you manage to get in touch with the Brandybucks?" Cami sighed and shook her head.

"'Fraid not. By my reckoning, the messenger must have got...sidetracked...in an inn, else I'm sure we would have heard by this morning."

"I'll keep an eye out for the messenger." And for the other child, she mentally added. Ai-yitman, Aytem, Aimen....whatever his name was, Aman was worried that he had been in such a state. She intended to find him, and find out where he was from- she had been taken by the little hobbit, so small and scared, although there had been something cheeky in his eyes. And if he had nowhere to go, the Inn wouldn't regret another young helper...

Foolishness!- Aman stopped herself. He would have a home somewhere. She just hoped he would let her help him find it...

Nerindel

07-12-2003, 06:40 PM

Léspheria could hear muffled voices calling her name, but the pain and the screaming in her head all but drowned them out. She fought to push back the torrent of emotions that flooded into her mind so she could open her eyes.

Suddenly Léspheria's eyes snapped open, Lóthaniel she gasped, her eyes wide with fear. The searing pain in her side remained and was now accompanied by a burning sensation across her back, she clutched at her side as the voices became distinguishable, she was in the inn.

She looked up to see Vanwe's concerned face gazing down on her, she could also feel that she was being supported by someone else, she looked round and was surprised to see Kaldir searching for the source of her pain.

"You won't find anything" she whispered, grimacing as she tried to stand up, but the pain was to much and she fell back, Kaldir caught her and lowered her back into her seat.

"What happened I tried to...." Vanwe started to say, but Léspheria put up her hand to stop her "The injury is not mine, although I assure you it certainly feels like it is."

"Who is Lóthaniel, that name sounds familiar to me" Kaldir asked. "And well it should Ranger, Lothaniel is one of the many Elves that taught the Faithful how to survive the wilds. He is also my twin and he is in need of my help so...... she tried to rise again but this time the pain burned in her shoulder.

"your feeling his pain" Vanwe gasped in astonishment, Léspheria nodded the strain of trying to hold back the tears was becoming too much, but she continued to bite them back.

Suddenly the inn door flew open "Léspheria!" he cried anxiously, and strode right up and knelt before her, The man looked in his early forties, his hair was dark and his face unshaven, he was a ranger of Annuminas and he born the coat of arms of the Dunedain apon his tunic."Are you ok?"

"I am fine it is Lóthaniel" she replied not surprised in the slightest that he was here, "Has the pain past" he asked gently, she shook her head, "Léspheria, this isn't right before it has passed quickly and..."

"You don't understand Amandur, my pain has not stopped because.... "his hasn't" Amandur finished for her, she nodded sadly. "we must get you to your room" he urged gently. "No! we must leave now!" "and without any gear how far would you get" he retorted sternly.

He then turned to Kaldir will you help me to take her .... He stopped and squinting his eyes he asked "Do I know you? Have we meet before? you look familiar," "Amandur!" Lespheria cut in, "ahem... yes... well... anyway will you help me take her to her room?" Kaldir nodded looking at Amandur as though trying to recall if he did indeed know this man.

"And you my lady, your help may also be required," he gasp as he looked on her then he turned to Léspheria, but at her stern look he said nothing.

The three of them helped Léspheria to her room by the time they got there, the pain had started to pass and Lespheria was able to stand on her own, she thanked both Kaldir and Vanwe for their help. She was slightly relieved when Kaldir left first, As Vanwe made to follow him she grabbed the young woman's wrist limply to stop her,she nodded to Ammandur who gentle closed the door.

"I will be leaving as soon as possible, but I will not be able to take everything with me" she said softly though the worry for her brother still showed in her eyes, she pressed the key to her room into the younger elf's hands and continued "I would be grateful if you would take this room and look after my things till I return."

Elora

07-12-2003, 08:17 PM

Vanwe stared at the key in her hand for a moment and then back to Lespheria, puzzlement still plain in her eyes.

"I will watch this room for you, m'lady, she said uncertainly. "None shall enter or remove anything from it. I will see to it."

Vanwe closed her hand tightly around the key in emphasis of her words and studied Lespheria anew.

"I still do not understand though," she said softly. The pain should not be. Vanwe turned her gaze to Amandur who watched anxiously.

"Can you not do something," he asked of her. She saw uncertainty in him as he studied her features, and faint shock of recognition that she did not share. Again, could she not escape her mother's shadow? Vanwe felt helpless and overmatched, but she could not just leave Lespheria to the pain that made the room swim in Vanwe's vision.

"I will try," Vanwe said and again bent her untrained senses towards the pain that was real but had no source she could reach. Lespheria was struggling against it as best she could. Faced with this amorphous pain, there was no wrongness that Vanwe could set herself against. Still, she reached for what little she could sieze and did what she could.

The result was slight, but the struggle for Lespheria was a little easier also. Vanwe stirred, tired, and shook her head.

"This thing is beyond me, and I have done what little I can. But without the source of the pain, I am all but useless to you."

Amandur murmured "Interesting," as he closed inspected Lespheria for a worsening as he suspected may come from whom he thought he saw.

"Still, there may be something I can find to dull your pain, my lady," Vanwe said as an idea occured to her.

"No, it would dull my senses and we have no time," Lespheria objected.

"Not necessarily," Vanwe demurred. "The most effective would indeed have you unconscious, but I can still make something to ease the sharpness from the pain so that you can function. You will get farther much faster without this heavy burden upon you, I saw what I needed only just beyond the stables this morning. I can have them ready for you quickly."

Amandur said over Lespheria's shaken head, "Then do so."

Vanwe nodded, tucked the key into her pouch and rushed out of the room. She closed the door on Amandur question to Lespheria "Is that really -"

She let the latch click shut with a sigh. Perhaps Silvanis was right and she should cast off her name. But how was she to cast off her very face? Was he right about Kaldir? She let those thoughts buzz at the back of her mind as she raced down the stairs and out of the inn towards the fringes of the trees she had only emerged from that morning. The required plants preoccupied her.

Buried in the shadows, a woman watched the younger Elf walk beyond the first trees and bend over a growth of plants, extract a pitifully small belt knife and proceed to harvest a supply. The dappled sunlight on her back and hair told the watching woman much. Green eyes fixed on Vanwe, and a face that was serene and beautiful allowed her lips to curve into a smile. Naiore Dannan remained still though, for she knew that another was here. Rangers, whom she despised with a bitter hatred, and one she knew, perhaps more. Her decision to remain in the north longer than she had wished to would yield fruit afterall.

She watched Vanwe range a little further afield, and with the stealth of a ghost, Naiore ascended a nearby maple to there get a greater vantage. Her daughter, oblivious, bent over another plant and set her knife to that. So poorly armed and her abilities so raw and untrained, she would prove easy and therefore somewhat disappointed. But Kaldir, whom she had already tested with pain and blood, was quite another matter and she looked forward to that encounter with a sharp hunger of anticpation.

Tinuviel of Denton

07-12-2003, 09:20 PM

Niniel smiled at Chrestienne. She didn't think she really had a choice of whether or not she would hear the story, so she went along as Chrestienne steered her to a pair of seats by the window.

"I--I would enjoy he-hearing your t-tale. Though, I--I must ad-admit that I--I don't remem-remember asking that question." She laughed a little at herself. "I--I was somewhat...distracted...at the time."

The two women both ordered drinks, Niniel a light wine, and Chrestienne an ale, then sat at the recently vacated table. One not-so-incidentally nearby the one at which sat Soronume and his companion. It was a little silly of her, but Niniel contrived to sit across from Chrestienne in such a manner that she could easily watch Soronume without appearing too obvious about it. The play of light on his features was most fascinating, even if she'd seen the same sort of light on many another face many times before.

Cerulean Fire

07-12-2003, 10:10 PM

Chrestienne thought it mildly amusing that Niniel was so taken with Soronume. She couldn't blame the woman, any girl in her right mind would be reduced to a puddle if Soronume decided to grace them with his attention. It was so very reminiscent of how she had been just a few months before--

No, she thought firmly to herself. There will be time enough for that tale later. "You did ask me the other night at dinner, and as I recall, Mardath repeated the question when I said I hadn't heard. I don't blame you for being preoccupied, though," Chrestienne said with a smile. She sipped from her ale and then continued. "I would be too, if I...well, I'll get there soon enough, if you are truly interested in hearing."

Niniel's gaze refocused on her. Chrestienne chuckled a little bit. Just admit it to yourself, she thought. You're so very taken with him that you can't keep your mind on anything else. "If you are truly not interested in hearing, I'll not push the matter further."

Tinuviel of Denton

07-12-2003, 10:34 PM

"Oh, no, please, do tell. I, uh, I'm not--I don't have v-very g-good manners. I u-usually keep to my-myself. I do beg y-your pardon, I--I don't kn-know what's wrong with me."

It wasn't as though Niniel had been infatuated with a man, or elf in this case, before. Indeed, she had never been around any male, of any race, who was nearly as kind and well-spoken as was Soronume. Well, if she had, she didn't remember it. Most of the men she'd known had been rough, coarse fellows without any manners at all.

She shook her head a little, reminding herself that she didn't want to remember a great deal of her past. She motioned to Chrestienne to tell her tale. Maybe it would get her mind off the man she could never have.

piosenniel

07-13-2003, 03:14 AM

Hilde Bracegirdle

07-13-2003, 05:37 AM

Gilly woke up long after the sun had crept over the horizon. Left ear folded and pinned against the wooden planking, she found herself on the floor, and despite the pain of it she had the dim recollection of deeming the cool boards far more comfortable to sleep upon than trying to drift off in a chair. She had to commend Benia for tolerating that most uncomfortable sleeping arrangement the previous two evenings.

The hobbit lay listening to the sounds of the inn in the morning, the squawking chickens scuffling over grain scattered for their breakfast, the clinking of crockery. She wondered if Benia was awake yet. Gilly noted the closed door. She didn’t remember having shut it.

Getting to her feet she rapped on the door. “Miss Benia, the sun is out! Are you awake?” Hearing no response she tired again, “Miss Benia are you awake?” Opening the door slowly, so as not to awaken her sleeping friend, she peered into the room. The sight before her overwhelmed her. The coverlet and blankets were strewn across the floor like ghostly fingers pointing to the open window. Gilly need not see the splintered sash to known what had happened. Benia was gone and not of her own volition.

She could find only one explanation in her mind and knew of one person capable of such a thing.

“Kaldir!” she exclaimed as she dashed for the staircase.

She had to find Léspheria and tell her what had happened. Perhaps she would know where the ranger had gone or at least she could gain counsel from the clear-sighted elf. But as Gilly reached the commons room, the door of the inn opened to emit Léspheria in obvious pain being carried in by Kaldir, Vanwe following after. What has happened here?, thought the hobbit. Is Kaldir back then?

If Kaldir hadn’t taken Benia who had?

Gilly didn’t know whom to turn to now, and felt benumbed with fright, but knew she needed to find some place quiet to think. Walking out of the inn she soon found herself at the stables, and pacing up and down outside of the stalls, she wracked her brain trying to come up with a plan of action. She must calm down; Benia’s life depended on it.

Sensing the hobbit’s anxious demeanor the horses began to watch Gilly, sticking their long faces out in the aisle way. She looked back at them wondering if she could learn something of the puzzle here. After all was there not a white mare saddled up but with no rider in sight, or the chestnut horse looking exhausted as it lay in its stall. But where was Kaldir’s animal? She felt a strong need to examine it for clues to its master’s activities, for although the pieces were not coming together Gilly still felt the ranger responsible for Miss Nightshade’s disappearance.

Recognizing the ranger’s horse, she slipped inside the stall, the tall beast regarding her with a sidelong glance. Gilly felt as if she were a mouse in the straw about to be tread upon! Haste, lest she be the next injured guest at the inn!

Gorothlammothiel

07-13-2003, 10:22 AM

"Quite comfortable indeed" Soronume agreed, disregarding the silence, "the lady Aman has done a fine job with the inn's upkeep. It's a wonder that she ever gets any rest at all." Vanataurien nodded, "I suppose she has help though?" she questionned. "Yea, I suppose she does" Soronume replied as a slight laugh escaped his mouth. Vanataurien smiled.

Breifly, Soronume looked around the room which was becoming full again. The hobbit who he had 'bumped' into was once again running across the room, though this time she had made it safely across. As he brought his vision back to the maiden sat across from him, another table caught his eye. Sat not so far away were two familiar faces who had returned to the inn it seemed. Chrestienne and Niniel.

Soronume caught their gaze immediately, and Niniel quickly turned back to her wine. Chrestienne hadn't moved so quickly and Soronume was able to show acknowledgement of their presence with a smile. A rush of colour seemed to flee to Chrestienne's face and she turned back as well.

Soronume noticed that Vanataurien seemed to be sitting quite akwardly in her chair. "Are you quite comfortable m'lady?" he asked her softly. She nodded as she positioned herself and sat still. Assured that she was infact quite comfortable, Soronume proceeded to ask the familiar question to travellers.

"You've passed here before but never stopped, if you do not mind my asking, what is different this time that it brings you to stay in the Shire?"

[ July 13, 2003: Message edited by: Gorothlammothiel ]

Vanataurien

07-13-2003, 11:34 AM

"You've passed here before but never stopped, if you do not mind my asking, what is different this time that it brings you to stay in the Shire?"
Vanataurien took a sip of her drink, thinking of how she would answer. " I am here to deliver news to a certain hobbit. What that hobbit will do with the information, I know not." she said, hoping it was enough. Soronume nodded, accepting what he had been told.

Vanataurien blinked, quickly looking the room over again. So many smiling faces, she thought, looking to a table of laughing hobbits. She hadn't seen smiles in a while, the sudden aura of happiness had been quite overwhelming.

"Soronume," she said, returning her focus to him. "You seem to know this Inn well, why visit you here?" Perhaps she could have asked a better question, but that was all she could think of at the moment.

Envinyatar

07-13-2003, 08:59 PM

Derufin’s first stop was the kitchen. The morning rush of breakfasts were over and Cook had that rare moment of ease where she was able to sit at the table, her feet propped on a chair and do nothing. Ruby and Buttercup were just finishing up the dishes, their heads bent close together, exchanging tidbits of information on the very handsome, or so at least they thought, Hobbit lad who had recently come to the Inn. Cook sat, resting her head on her hand, her arm propped on the table and listened to their chatter.

‘I’ve not seen him around her before,’ said Ruby wiping the last drops of water from one of the mugs. She stood on her tip toes and placed it in a line one the top shelf of the mug cupboard. Cook nodded her head at her as Ruby looked back at her, knowing Cook was a stickler for having her kitchen just so.

‘Me, either,’ replied Buttercup, wiping her hands on a towel. She smiled dreamily, dropping the towel on the floor as she reached to put in on the peg by the sink. ‘But I sure do intend to see him as often as I can while he’s here!’

A loud ‘Tsk!’ from Cook snapped her out of her reverie, and she colored prettily as Cook pointed to the floor where the towel had dropped. Derufin had come in at the last of this exchange, and gallantly retrieved the towel for Buttercup, who ran to put it in the laundry basket.

‘I was wondering,’ he said, sitting down in the chair opposite Cook, have any of you seen the man from Rohan this morning? Eodwine – the fellow who was bunking in my quarters.’ The trio of women looked at one another, in expectation that one of them would have served him, but the answer was a resolved ‘no’. ‘Why do you ask,’ said Cook, getting up to pour a cup of tea for the man.

Derufin explained that Eodwine had been gone for a while. ‘Visiting some new parts of the Shire I should think, though I cannot recall where he said he would be going.’ Cook laughed at this gloss of the day Eodwine had left the Inn. ‘What you cannot remember is if he said anything about his direction and if he did, what he said.’ She looked at him with an amused smirk on his face. ‘You were, after all quite drunk, as I recall.’

Now it was Derufin’s turn to turn a little red. The tops of his ears crimsoned and he acknowledged that ‘yes’ that may have been the case. ‘All that aside, though,’ he went on, ‘we’ve got his horse come back winded and sweating to the Inn, and riderless, it now appears.’

‘No, indeed, it’s not good that a king’s messenger has gone missing.’ Cook shivered a bit as a presentiment of ill in the Shire brushed through her thoughts. ‘Not good at all,’ she said again more firmly, standing up from her chair, and pushing the sleeves of her cardigan above her elbow.

Ruby and Buttercup stole glances at one another, knowing this was a sign that Cook had made some decision and was about to put them to work. On cue, Cook turned to Buttercup and bade her fetch Miss Aman and Mistress Cami. Ruby she sent out to look carefully about the Inn and the yard for any traces of the missing man. ‘Don’t ask any fool questions of anyone, either of you. We need to sort this out before anyone else gets panicked.’

The Hobbits left the kitchen at a run, and Cook turned to Derufin. ‘And you,’ she said, drumming her fingers on the table, ‘can you think of anyway we might use his horse to find him . . . it’s all we have it seems . . .’

Child of the 7th Age

07-13-2003, 11:27 PM

Cami came sweeping into the kitchen looking slightly cross. In her hands were several old leather volumes of indeterminate origin and a satchel bulging with pens and vellum. For once she was determined not to let Cook bully her, "Can't you give me a minute's peace? Every time I sit down to work, someone interrupts. At the rate I'm going, I'll be as old as Bilbo before I even manage to look at any of this, let alone write something of my own." She plopped the books down on the table and glared accusingly over at Cook.

"Alright, I'm here. Now exactly what is this problem that couldn't wait?"

Cook eyed Cami disapprovingly, "Always got your nose stuffed in one of those old books, Miz Cami. Someday, it'll lead to no good!"

Cami bit her tongue to keep from blurting out that she had already managed to get into considerable trouble by searching for secrets in older volumes. But before she could defend herself, or even admit to the truth of Cook's accusation, Derufin caustically observed, "Enough bickering, you two. There's a man in trouble out there, and all you can do is argue."

"What man? Who? What are you talking about?" Cami challenged.

Derufin sighed and went on to explain what they had just been discussing.

"Well," prodded Cook, "do you remember anything, Cami? When you last saw him or where he was going?"

Cami screwed up her brow and tried to think. A man vanishing and his riderless horse turning up could be a serious matter. Especially a man such as Eodwine who was here in the Shire as a royal messenger.

She hesitated a minute and then spoke, "I honestly don't remember too much. He sent me a brief note before he came. We were always going to sit down to talk, only we never quite made it. I got involved with the mathom sale, and he disappeared. That was the end of our talk. One minute he was bunking down in the stables, and the next he was gone."

"So you don't remember anything?" Cook added.

Again, Cami hesitated before responding. "Yes, there was one thing. I don't have the note with me, but I remember he said something about Buckland. People in Buckland he'd visited or he was going to see later..... It's all a jumble in my head. Anyways, it may mean nothing. He could have changed his mind or put off the journey till a later date. Derefin said the pony came galloping from the west, so that doesn't sound much like Buckland. But I do remember him mentioning the place to me."

Cami lowered her voice, directing her words at Cook, "I hate to say this, but shouldn't we report this incident to the Shirriff."

"Halfred?" Cook blanched. "You want us to tell Halfred?"

"He is the Shirriff," Cami noted.

"He's also an addle-brained busy body who sometimes has trouble telling the good folk from the bad!"

Cami sighed. She could scarcely deny the truth of Cook's words.

"No," continued Cook in a conspiratorial tone, "let's try to do this on our own. It may be we'll need to draw others in later, but I'd rather keep this matter private for now."

Cami shook her head and agreed to keep an ear open for any news. Before she left, she glanced back at Derufin, "If you do send out a search party, I would like to be part of it. Eodwine has done me a good turn on more than one occasion. I have a debt to pay." With that parting thought, Cami headed down the hallway.

Everdawn

07-14-2003, 02:30 AM

Madea had left Hathorn to his writing and returned to her rooom upstairs to pack her things. Hathorn had packed previously that morning. She came down about an hour later to find Hathorn leaning against the wall smiling. "It is done! come now, we have a long trip to get to Minas Tirith"

He smiled and took her things. Madea laid their due fees on the table for the innkeeper and followed Hathorn outside to where the horses were tethered up to a post. She was overjoyed at the new beginnings her friend had given her, and would be eternally greatful.

Madea mounted her horse, only as another rode up. Its rider, a short woman, with dark shoulder length hair and deep maroonish eyes, dressed in the habit of a black coat over a navy blue tunic and skirt with high black riding boots. The other rider did not smile, but looked stern. pitty thought Madea, She would be so pretty if only she did smile.

The rider sat tall in her saddle, turning her head to watch the man and young woman ride off. Fools she thought, A wedding ring? That poor girl should kill him before he get the chance to do her.The rider laughed and dismounded. She was here on business and business alone.

Her name was Scylla, and she was not of this area, but from the south of Ithilien, a horse trader by nature had once been born a gypsy, travelling throughout the South of Gondor, they to had been horse traders upon a time. But Scylla was much more.

She entered the inn and looked around. The Green Dragon she repeated to herself quietly. Her hard exterior now fading. Her eyes switched form the room to where Niniel, Chrestienne and Soronume were sitting deep in conversation. A conversation Scylla's eyes registered a yearning, and sighed. Well what am i waiting for? no one intimidates me. And who knows maybe they want a horse.

Scylla approached the group. "Good day to you. i am so sorry to bother you but, it has been so long since i have spoken about things to people." she instantly frowned and thought about how strange this must have sounded. "My name is Scylla, may I join you?" she stood back and gave a smile.

Carrûn

07-14-2003, 02:55 PM

Awyrgan's dark features took in the new arrival in one sweeping green-eyed glance, watching briefly as she made her way to a table where several others sat and he then returned to his drink. He heard her introduce herself but payed little attention.

At the moment he was much more interested in the fairly large breakfast he had sitting in front of him. Mostly it was eggs and potatoes, but there was plenty of bread and meat as well.

He ate slowly, enjoying for a brief moment food which he had not had to kill and cook himself. As always, the Shire food was excellent. He was loath to admit it, but it was a major factor in his return. He swallowed an overcooked potatoe with the aid of his drink with some difficulty as he reflected on his next move.

He had still to make good on his promise to repay the Innkeeper for her generosity, and intented to keep his word. At the same time, he was in no particular hurry to end his free ride.

From his vantage point at the bar the weathered man could see around the doorway into the kitchen. There a cluster of persons held a conference. Awyrgan had a nose for trouble, and apart from it finding him, he was rather good at happening upon it himself. Besides, he thought to himself with some satisfaction, any half-witted invididual could see by their appearance that the issue being discussed is more serious than spilled ale.

He half raised his hand as a hobbit walked past him out of the kitchen, but let it fall without inturrupting her when he examined the look on her face. He chewed absently on a thumbnail, mulling the possibilities over in his head. He caught the eye of the Cook and quickly dropped it, not wishing to incurr any unecessary wrath. Shire or no Shire, cooks were cooks.

Tinuviel of Denton

07-14-2003, 05:28 PM

"Good day to you. I am so sorry to bother you but, it has been so long since i have spoken about things to people. My name is Scylla, may I join you?"

Niniel looked up at another stranger, grateful for that it gave her an excuse to look away from Soronume. He'd glanced at her and she was rather embarrassed that he'd caught her staring.

"Of--of course," she responded. "I--I am called Nin-Niniel a-a-and this is Chrestienne." She sighed inwardly, as her stutter seemed to have no intention of diminishing. It was time that she learned to live with it.

Elora

07-15-2003, 03:18 AM

Vanwe cast about the undergrowth with growing haste. All she needed was some Calendula and some Clary Sage! Certain she had seen the former only that morning, she pushed a little deeper into the trees. Silvanis' warning about wandering alone was drowned out by her need to quickly locate the necessary herbs to make the tincture for Lespheria.

The summer morning light shone clearly through the leave overhead in places, making it easier to search. Vanwe held little hope of finding Sage in the wetter and colder north. She was counting on Cook's foresight in stocking her larder for that ingredient. However, Calendula should be somewhere here, surely. She frowned at the growth around her which refused to give up what she needed, and pushed a little further.

More than once she passed a low, spreading plant that bore white flowers and gave off a pleasant wholesome scent when the leaves were crushed. Hoping it had some possible benefit, provided she could identify it in time for use, Vanwe snatched up a healthy store of the plant and continued her search. It occured to her that her lack of knowledge of northern plant life was working against her, a fact that she did not well like at all.

Brow creased with urgency, Vanwe bent over yet another plant and with a small cry of triumph realised that she had found the Calendula again. She crouched and began to harvest, uncomfortably aware of the time that had passed and that she had no idea where Kaldir was. The shadows between the trees offered her little reassurance.

Knowing where Vanwe was, brows rising at the girl's untrained abilities and how they roamed to and fro with little discipline at all, Naiore turned her own senses wider. Honed to a finely edged weapon that could be turned as easily to one of detection and search, she slipped easily beneath her daughter's unfocused "static" as though she was diving beneath the water's surface.

Naiore had an excellent vantage in her tree, a perch that afforded her a full view of the inn and the surrounds. Combining sharp sight, hearing and empathy, Naiore detected the faintest snag in the erstwhile ocean she swam through with smooth and stealthy strokes. There was something vaguely familiar. She knew whomever it was she sensed. When shadow below shifted fractionally, Naiore realised with a sudden and brilliant smile that Kaldir himself was present.

Two treasures in the one forest, how fortuitous! Vanwe, on the other hand, seemed unaware of both her and Kaldir and was still doing something no doubt menial with the plant. Beside her lay a small pile of the herbs she had already gathered. Should she be snatched by either one, only those herbs would be witness and only another Ranger or similiarly skilled individual would mark that. She sensed no other Rangers nearby.

There was one last thing to take care of before moving. Naiore had no idea how her daughter came to be here, in the north, at an inn no less. She had no way of knowing whether the girl would be missed if she was taken, and if so how soon she would be missed. Observation was necessary still, Naiore noted. It was not likely that the girl would be missed, she postulated, but the risk in the unknown factor was too great to entertain it.

Naiore settled in to where she was perched, studying her daughter who was both alike as a mirror and not. Girl, Naiore thought, although traces of womanhood were in her unconscious movements whether she knew it at all. Still, Vanwe had the dubious talent of blending in to anywhere: which made her kidnapping so much more easier, for who would miss her. Naiore waited to see if her answer of noone was proved right.

Amanaduial the archer

07-15-2003, 12:08 PM

Aman popped her head into the kitchen where Buttercup had instructed her to come, not wanting to stay for very long. They had got in touch with Rosie Brandybuck's mother, and she was meanwhile staying at Ruby's house, where her mother was all to willing to fuss over the fragile, pretty little hobbit girl. But as for her friend, the boy...he still remained elusively vanished. However, her thoughts of a quick meeting about potatoes, or wines, or some other such triviality were soon dispelled as Cook motioned her in in a no nonsense way. Aman held back a sigh.

"What's the matter?" She inquired, noticing the serious expressions on the faces of all present. She also noted the rather stormy glares Cook and Cami were sending each other over the piles of scrolls and books which sat in front of Cami, but decided that leaving well alone was a good idea.

Cami turned towards her, a frown of worry creasing her forehead. "Eodwine's vanished." She stated frankly.

"The messenger?" Aman remembered well the kind, Rohirrim rider, and was shocked by the news. "How...why...what?" She finished. Derufin quickly explained the situation and Aman's eyebrows remained up.

"So his horse arrived, but not he?" Aman said thoughtfully. "Did he say anything about where he was headed before he left?"

Derufin suddenly became incredibly interested in his shoes, and Cook's glare transfered to the stable master. Aman would have smiled if the situation hadn't been so serious. "Ri-ight. I see. And we have nothing else...?"

"A note...he left a note. I don't have it with me, but he said something about going to Buckland, visiting someone or something...anyway, Derufin said the horse came galloping from the West though, and that doesn't fit with Buckland."

"Has anyone told Halfred?"

"We were just discussing that," Cami said. "He is the shirriff."

"He's also an addle-brained busy body who sometimes has trouble telling the good folk from the bad!" Cook put in. Cami didn't seem to disagree, and Aman, much as she liked Halfred, had to admit it was often the case. Cook lowered her voice and continued, "Lets try to do this on our own It may be we'll need to draw others in later, but I'd rather keep this matter private for now."

"I'll keep an ear out," Cami agreed, before turning towards the door. If you do send out a search party, I would like to be part of it. Eodwine has done me a good turn on more than one occasion. I have a debt to pay."

Aman wondered at these words- Cami did seem to have more than a few secrets. Still, there were indeed more pressing things to be thought on. "'Tis a terrible thing that this could happen. Eodwine is a gentleman, a good man- I will keep an ear out for news as well."

Aman turned to go, them stopped, remembering something she had needed to bring up with Cook, but which she was loath to bring up now. "Cook, about Pio's party- we have just over a week now."

Cook clasped a hand to her heart. "Oh, deary me, there is, isn't there! Have you got the drinks sorted for it?"

"I am going to send another messenger to Butterbur now- he forgot the last meeting."

"Forget his own head if it wasn't screwed on." Cook grumbled. "Well, go on then."

Aman was relieved to be shooed out of the kitchen, and went to find the young woman who had said she was departing for Bree, but thoughts of what could have happened to Eodwine hung darkly on her mind.

Gorothlammothiel

07-15-2003, 06:01 PM

"You seem to know this Inn well, why visit you here?"

"Why do I visit?" Soronume repeated Vanataurien's question aloud then thought on the answer for a few moments. "I initially was just, 'passing through' you might say. As most to the inn, I was travelling and needed a place to stop and the inn presented itself. Quite easily I became accustomed to it, the diversity of its inhabitants and the warmth that it offers to those as us. I seemed to be able to just 'slip' into the inn and my existance hardly noticable at first, at least when I did not mean to be noticed." He paused realising that was no longer the case, but then cleared his mind and continued to answer the question.

"I made a friend here, well there are of course others," he glanced over to the two tables where both Niniel and Christienne and Elwen and Dorelnar sat. "But one inparticular, the first I made some time ago, when the inn was still in the hands of a dwarf." this last comment seemed to surprise Vanataurien, but Soronume continued regardless. "Her name was Eruwen, a shy maiden she was but very warm." He smiled. "We left the inn and seemed to quite literally 'fall' into a small company, and a quest to Cirith Ungol." Soronume paused and sighed heavily. Vanataurien noticed that Soronume seemed to be holding this matter very close to his heart still, but before she could say anything he quickly continued. "It claimed her life. The quest. And in doing so, it left scars that will never fade, or ease with time" he was sure to brush quickly over that last part. It was true that the tale still pained him, and he moved his hand away from the table and to his side.

Vanataurien remained silent. "I suppose that although we achieved what we had set out to achieve," Soronume continued, "the losses on the way meant I couldn't be content where I was, and having never felt at home any where, this inn seemed the nearest thing." "Because you met Eruwen here?" Vanataurien questionned carefully. Soronume just nodded. The maidens voice was soft, "I'm sorry." "There is no need to be sorry m'lady, there was nothing anyone could have done, least of all someone who was not there" He tried to force a smile but he could see in Vanataurien's face that it did not appear as such. Not knowing how to continue after such a moment he sat back in his chair and fell into the shadow of an overhanging wall...

littlemanpoet

07-15-2003, 07:03 PM

It was late afternoon when Halfred walked through the doors of the Green Dragon Inn. He called to Aman across the room for his usual - doubled! - and made his way between the tables.

By the time Aman had the first mug of ale on the counter, Halfred was seated before her.

"Bring the second one to there, no dallying."

"But you've only laid your hand on that one."

He brought the mug to his lips, glaring at her over the rim as he sucked on the foamy brew. Aman's eyes widened as the big mug emptied without pause. Finally he set it down with a bang on the counter and wiped his foamy lip, glowering.

"Here's the second."

"Thanks, miss." He drained the next one in no more time than the first. Aman's eyes widened even further, then narrowed.

"This is not you, Halfred. How is it with you?"

"Remember the word you sent from here this morning, about a missing man of Rohan?" Aman nodded, her face a picture of anticipation.

"I've had word."

"Wait! Let me get the others!"

Aman ran into the kitchen. Halfred licked his lips and greeted friends while he waited. Not long. Aman came back to the bar with Cook, Cami, and Derufin on her heels.

"What word, Halfred?" Cook said. "Out with it. No dallying now or you'll get us more wrought up than we already are."

"One more," he tapped the counter next to the two empty mugs, "and then I'll tell ye."

They groaned and urged Aman to pour the next one. She placed it sloshing before Halfred, and all four pairs of eyes were on him. He lifted his mug, watching them, and began to quaff his third, the sound of his slurping accompanied by much groaning and rolling of eyes.

"Hurry, Halfred, afore we pull that mug away!"

He set it down with a clack, half empty.

"A shirrif come across the farthings t'day. A young lad, Falco Bobbin by name, over from Michel Delving way. Said some-at come from up the hills nor'west o' Michel Delving, a traveler - no Ranger, mind you - some traveler, an' he brung a satchel wit' 'im." Aman and Derufin exchanged glances. "He showed it to the shirrifs at Michel Delving and they spread the word, an' so it come to me."

"Is that all?" Cami cried.

"E's comin' this way insofar as word met us from you, an' he'll have more. But if ye lost some-at up northaway, an' he had him a satchel, well, we might have some-at t' go on."

With that, Halfred finished off his third.

"Not 'appy news what? Made me thirsty it did. An' now I mus' be back to me duty." He got off his seat and swerved around the tables, tilting leeward as he went.

Derufin grunted. "He better not have Cook's bacon and taters tomorrow."

Nerindel

07-15-2003, 07:17 PM

"Is that really Menecin's daughter" Amandur asked with a mischievous glint in his hazel coloured eyes, Lespheria looked up, she was slightly surprised that her friend had not stated the obvious, for it was plainly obvious that Vanwe had her mothers face. "Her eyes" Amandur answered seeing Léspheria's surprise, "Only one Elf I know has those eyes." Léspheria tried to smile as she recalled Menecin's kind and gentle face, it had been a long time since she had seen his warm smile or heard his melodic voice.

"How is he?" she asked her smile fading and concern again showing on her soft elven features. "He is safe, although I hear he complains constantly at being confined to ...." Amandur paused and looked around the room as though the walls would be listening, "Well, you know" Léspheria nodded, she did know how much he would hate being confined, even if it was for his own safety. "He blames himself you know" Amandur said softly looking deep into Lespheria's deep grey eyes. She turned away sadly and whispered "I know."

After a few moments of awkward silence, Léspheria spoke again, "So how long have you been here, my friend ?" Amandur rose and made his way over to the window, he watched Vanwe cross the court yard. Sighing he turned back to Léspheria and began. "Just a week ago a royal messenger arrived asking for me by name, he bore an urgent message from the king." Amandur slipped his hand into his tunic and pulled out the neatly folded parchment and handed it to Léspheria. She turned the parchment and ran her fingers over the wax seal that bore the official crest of the king, then slowly she opened it and read.

Amundur,

I hope this message finds you swiftly, for the errand I must now request of you is of the utmost importance. You must travel to the boundaries of the Shire, there you will met Lóthaniel Denfëa, whom I believe you already know. He will tell you more.
Go swiftly but discretely.

Elessar.

Léspheria was surprised to see her brother named in this message, she had known for some time that her brother was keeping something from her, but she thought it was only that he knew Halwain was Fawains father and the whole business between them and the Orc chief Skaikrish, he had explained much of this to her on their journey to the inn. As she looked up she saw Amandur studying her, trying to judge how much she knew. But at her asking look he continued..

"Lóthaniel explained to me that they had found Menecin's daughter, which I must admit surprised me for I did not know he had a daughter, but not nearly as much as what followed,"

"He told you who her mother was and warned you that she would look like her" Léspheria cut in.

Amandur nodded then went on "He also told me how the Kings Rangers while tracking Naiore Dannan through Belfalas came apon this young woman and if Lóthaniel had not been with them and seen their mistake they would have surely kill her, Instead they followed her hoping that she would lead them to her mother.

As they passed north Lóthaniel broke from the group and went to Rivendell to inform the Lords of what they had discovered, at about the same time he received word of Halwains capture and Skaikrish's demand that they bring Fawain to him. Lóthaniel thought these two occurrences more than coincidental, for one thing Skaikrish was not clever enough to have captured Halwain let alone find out that he was related to Fawain, it seemed to him and the Lords of Rivendell that someone was trying to keep the northern rangers preoccupied.

The lords informed Lothaniel that they had a shipment of Miruvor that needed delivered to the Shire for an Elven naming day celebration and ...." "Yes, I think I know the rest from here, so you were to watch Vanwe to see if her mother turned up" Léspheria concluded and Amandur did not miss the annoyance in her tone. Lespheria was angry that they had put this young elf's life in danger by following her, if Naiore knew that her daughter, no matter how unwittingly, was leading her enemies to her she may well try to rid herself of that shadow.

As she looked at Amandur, who was once again at the window watching for Vanwe's return, she realised that he was not just there to watch Vanwe, "You were to watch me too!" she whispered not fully understanding. Amandur spun around "You don't know...I thought..... he trailed off frowning. Then it hit her, "My Mother! it was Naiore that did those terrible things to my mother" Lespheria's eyes welled with tears at the memory of her mothers death. Amandur put his hands on her shoulders, "Listen, Léspheria your mother and Naiore were bitter enemies, It was your mother who opened Menecin's eyes to Naiore's treachery and she hated her for it."

"But my mother is dead so what has this to do with me!" she asked trying to compose herself. "Everything and maybe nothing" Amandur answered, "Naiore does not know that your mother is dead, when we found Valaindon she was in the very depths of Mordors prisons but she was not yet dead, but before she passed she managed to say... protect the gift and tell my daughter I am sorry." at the sound of her mothers name and her last word, it all became too much for her, she buried her face in her hands, Amandur gathered her up and held her in his strong arms letting her release the torrent of emotions that welled within her.

He and a few other rangers had taken Valaindon's broken body back to Rivendell, shortly after the war. But Léspheria's Father had forbid them to tell Léspheria of her mothers words, he told them that she was recovering from a strange illness. At the time he had agreed, not knowing the full extent of her illness. But now holding her in his arms he knew she had felt every moment of her mothers Torture. He had seen Valaindon's body she had been tortured then healed and by the look of her wounds it had happened many times, for over a month another ranger had reckoned. He hugged her a little tighter, he could not begin to imagine what Léspheria had gone through and was now going through again.

He felt useless, their was nothing he could do to help her. He could only hope that Naiore did not seek her daughter, He believed she would see Valaindon and not Léspheria if their paths crossed. As for Vanwe he had doubts, She searches for her mother, not her father, why? He held Léspheria until emotionally drained she fell asleep in his arms, He laid her gently down on the bed, as he did he noticed that she wore her mothers short sword, he hoped she would not need it. He quietly went about packing the things she would need for their journey. He meant to go with her no matter how much she protested.

When he had finnished packing her things he went back to the window, which afforded a clear view of the courtyard and the pool beyond, he continued his watch, but he was still distracted by Léspheria's ailment, so much so that he failed to see the two shadows that lurked in the shadows watching his charge.

Beren87

07-15-2003, 11:26 PM

Beren walked swiftly towards the front of this new inn he'd come across, an oddly porportioned buidling the words "The Green Dragon" were prominently displayed upon a sign hanging in front of a seemingly-smaller than usual door. A stable could be seen off to the left of the large Inn, the neighing of it's occupants accompaning the sweet shrill of the birds around.

His clothes dishevled from a long-weeks walk, having lost his horse many a week ago to a very swarthy troll he'd met up with upon the road. Only by the nick of time had he managed to escape in more or less one piece. His shirt was ripped around the back, but a lovely lookingly overcoat covered it up quite nicely, though it obviously prevented him from leaving article at the door as he entered. His pants were, of course, worn down to barely a thread having covered him the entire distance between the inn and the losing of the horse. The horse had, incidently, been carrying all of his supplies, and in his flee of terror he hardly thought to come back to see how they had fared.

Yet, all embarresment of his mode of dress aside he walked in anyway, the steady call of his stomach championing over any his pride might have voiced. The inside was oddly exactly the right temperature as compared to the outside, being not so warm as to produce sweat on his already famished skin. He smiled as he entered, his frame covering most of the door-way. His smile seemed to warm the place more so the roaring fire had, catching the eye of those already present.

As he took his first step into the inn, growing more confident about his present situation, his head proceeded to smash upon the corner of the coat rack nailed to the side of the door.

"Ow, bloody coatrack..." he exclaimed, now rubbing his throbbing head. A small murmur of laughter errupted from assorted corners of the room. As he looked up he noticed the lovely inn-keeper stifling back a small giggle.

Ignoring the newly received bump on his head, Beren walked further into the inn, bellying up to the bar. It was a very smoothly polished thing, excellently crafted. He rubbed his hand along the hardened surface.

"So, are you done admiring my bar, or would you like me to come back in a bit, dear stranger?"

Beren looked up, his facing glowingly slightly red, to see the cute inn-keeper he had noticed earlier staring back at him with a small smile on her lips. "I..err...yes, heh, I'm quite done."

"Well, good to hear it then. My name's Aman, I'm the innkeeper here at the Green Dragon"

"Aman, eh? Hm..very nice name. Well, Miss Aman, I'll be needing a room for the night. It seems as if I'm going to be here for quite a bit." Beren exclaimed the last part as he turned to observe the inn behind him. It wasn't a fancy place, to be sure, but it had some sort of odd charm that appealed to him. "Yes.., I think I'm going to be here for a while."

[ July 16, 2003: Message edited by: Beren87 ]

Child of the 7th Age

07-16-2003, 12:20 AM

Cami watched Halfred lurch awkwardly from one table to the next, nearly falling over a chap dressed in travel stained clothes who had come up to tne bar to make pleasantries with Aman. What an embarrassing situation! A Shirriff wearing official livery was colliding with half the visitors to the Inn. Whatever small measure of respect Cami still had for Halfred rapidly vanished.

She tried to sort out the words in her head. Something about a lost satchel and a traveller who'd gone northwest from Michel Delving. But Cami still had little idea exactly who was supposed to be coming or when they would arrive. She truly hated riddles like these. It was easier for her to understand passages and clues in a book than to listen to someone like Halfred whose words were so garbled.

She scowled and exchanged sharp glances with Derufin, "Did you understand a word he said? Anything at all? It sounded like jibberish." After all, Derufin probably had more experience than she did in downing one too many pints. Maybe he would have better luck deciphering Halfred's mangled pronouncements and figuring out what this had to do with Eodwine's disappearance.

[ July 16, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

Rochelle

07-16-2003, 12:46 AM

She made her entrance a silent one, and moved herself to a vacant seat in the far back. A dark cloak and hood hid her features, only a stray wisp of blonde escaped.

She uncorked her canteen and took a long swallow. She'd have to refill while she was here. Months in the wild had left her mute with nary a soul to converse with save her horse. She ran the back of her hand over her mouth before allowing chocolate gaze to sweep over its inhabitants.

Elora

07-16-2003, 01:19 AM

With some speed Vanwe emerged from the trees, a bundle of green sprigs clutched in her hands. She hurried towards the inn, still unaware of what lay behind her. Lespheria and Amandur probably thought she had absconded. Even if Amandur did know who she was, she still would not flee. Not when Lespheria had defended her and her own determination to stay and fight for what small she had managed to find at the Green Dragon Inn.

Aman, Derufin and all the staff probably thought she had absconded as well. Vanwe darted through the doors, hair streaming behind her as she passed tables where patrons swapped news of doings with each other. Kaldir was nowhere to be seen, she noted with some apprehension as she ducked through into the kitchen.

Out of character, Vanwe did not pause and wait to be scolded for running suddenly into the kitchen. With forthrightness that most would not think within her, Vanwe siezed a saucepan from a rack where a number dangled from the ceiling and started to throw sprigs into it. Leaves, flowers, sometimes the stalks too, all went into the pan with great speed and Vanwe did not look left nor right as the comments rose around her.

"Here, no running or tomfoolery in this kitchen," came one objection.
"What's she doing?"
"That's Cook's Sage! You can't have that!"
"You can't just take a saucepan and throw yourself in like a whirling top!"

Vanwe let the comments bounce off her, turning to add water to the pan and set it on the stovetop.

"Honestly, girl! You're a trial, make no mistake. What's in that saucepan?"
"Look, she got a weed on the table!" The protest was outraged.
"That's Kingsfoil. Move out of the way!" Vanwe reluctantly moved as the contents of her saucepan were reviewed. "There'll be no poisonings here with weeds and some such."

"It's no poison. It's a tincture," Vanwe muttered to noone in particular and then pushed her way back to the saucepan to see how it was steeping. Those in the kitchen stepped back in surprise, shaking their heads. From the steam that was starting to rise, she was able to guage how it was progressing. Kingsfoil, she thought as she stirred the herbed water. It is not familiar. Believing she had gathered no more than a pleasant scent in the kingsfoil, Vanwe disregarded it and poured the concoction into a earthen cup through a strainer to fish the leaves out. She topped it up with some cool water to reduce it's heat and was already making for the door when someone said, "What about this mess?"

Vanwe sighed, set the cup on the table and rinsed out saucepan to drain upon the sideboard. She tucked the kingsfoil into her belt, collected the cup, and left.

"Stranger lass, didn't I say so from the beginning?"
"Mrs Bunce will box her ears when she finds out Vanwe's been into the pantry."

Vanwe climbed the stairs to Lespheria's rooms, and opened the door without knocking. Amandur turned around, frowning at the sudden bursting in and Vanwe froze at his fierce expression.

"I'm sorry," she started, holding up the cup before her like a shield of sorts. "I couldn't find everything as quickly as I had hoped." Amandur examined her intently for a moment and nodded, and Vanwe set the steaming cup down on the table.

"Lady Lespheria is resting," he said with a distinctly protective tone of voice. He turned from what appeared to be packing and crossed to inspect the cup Vanwe had put down on the table. "What's in this?"

"I combined what I could find in a blend that would promote energy and strength and ease pain. I did not think anything to cause sleep would be useful. It sounds dangerous, and sharp wits are called for at such times." The note in Amandur had the effect of impelling Vanwe to explain herself. Her face was earnest, sapphire eyes clear of guile in their depths. She endured under the intense gaze until Amandur looked back at the cup. He inhaled the rising steam and nodded in approval.

"It is hot enough to wait for Lespheria to wake," Vanwe said softly as she looked at the Elf woman. "I wish there was more I could do," she sighed.

"What were you planning to do with that?" Amandur waved at the kingsfoil in her belt, staining the blue cotton of her patched dress beneath it a distinct green. He carefully watched Vanwe's fingers brush the leaves as though she had forgotten it. Vanwe shrugged slightly, a manner reminiscent as her eyes were of another. "I do not anything of it apart from it's name and it's clean scent. Perhaps I will put it in my room," she replied absently.

Amandur was struck by her comfort with the touch of the plant. It was reassuring, for certainly Naiore Dannan would not be so at home with it. The wholesome scent would not be so pleasant for the soul that lived within Vanwe's mother. Vanwe did not know that she carried a small protection against the woman who watched her. It would take more than that to protect her fully, but it was a start.

"Perhaps you could leave some here. It has considerable properties and merits," Amandur suggested. Vanwe happily removed the sprigs and peeled off the fresher ones to set by the mug. Amandur studied her a little longer. Certain that difficult questions would soon follow, Vanwe turned to leave.

"Could you possibly help me pack, Vanwe?" It was innocently phrased, and Amandur watched her come to a stand still and consider for a brief moment. Lespheria, though was sleeping, and there was so much resting on Vanwe's head. Had she seen her mother? Why was she in the Shire? Was the echoes of her father a deceptive gild over the truth of her nature, inherited from her mother? When Vanwe turned back in consent, Amandur was relieved and anxious to see what he could learn both.

"As she has entrusted you with the key, I think Lespheria would not object to your assistance," Amandur added. He gestured to the shelving near where he was busy. "Perhaps you could start here?"

Vanwe looked at the shelves with startling clear eyes in the morning light and nodded. She even went to go so far as to drop a curtsy in the manner of a maid. Was it contrivance or not? So little was known about the young woman that Amandur could not guess, yet. As Vanwe arrived at the shelving to sort through what was within them for anything of use on a journey, she felt the weight of Amandur's questions beside with no small amount of apprehension.

Apart from Lespheria, he was the closest she had been to her kindred, and she felt vulnerable. Vanwe directed an eye experienced in sorting through journey necessities and excessive baggage and hoped for the best. From time to time, she would glance through the nearby window she stood beside, as if in wistful longing to simply fly away. But, she had promised to stand.

Two sets of eyes watched her through the window from below and pondered what it may mean. Naiore did not know of Amandur's presence. Kaldir did not know of the implications of Amadur's presence. But both wondered in their separate ways. The morning light also touched upon another who barely felt it. An Elf once great and of proud lineage, now a shadow of himself stared in shattered, bleeding silence at the gilded walls of his distant prison.

Amanaduial the archer

07-16-2003, 08:28 AM

Aman raised an eyebrow at the newcomer as, after first of all stumbling in and colliding with the coatrack, he now seemed to be fascinated with the bar, running a hand along it appreciatively. Much as Aman was sure the bar's creator would have been thrilled, Aman broke into the man's reverie. "So, are you done admiring my bar, or would you like me to come back in a bit, dear stranger?"

He looked up, apparently startled, and his cheeks and ears took on a slightly red tinge, before stammering a reply. "I..err...yes, heh, I'm quite done."

Aman couldn't help her smile widening, and as the man asked for a room, he turned to survey the room, caught up once again in some sort of strange spell as he gazed around. Aman cleared her throat lightly and pushed the log book in front of the man. "Just sign...here," she pointed at the spot on the page with a slim finger, "and there is a deposit of 2 coppers for this room."

She had hesitated before saying this last part, taking in the state of the man's disheveled clothing, but had to say it. Awrygan had done a few odd jobs around the Inn to earn his room for the night along with breakfast and lunch. Aman knew she shouldn't do that sort of thing often, as it certainly wouldn't do for the Inn to be thought of simply as a place where a free meal and room can be got, but she had taken a liking to this odd gentleman (using the word gentleman very loosely, of course). She almost thought she wouldn't mind that much if he didn't pay, as she suspected he wouldn't be able to, and after all, he said he would be staying for a while, he could earn his keep...

Aman stopped making excuses in her heart as the man extracted from his heavy-looking black overcoat a gold pen and signed his name in a slightly italicised script. Aman subtly read the writing upside down; Beren. Then he fished once more into a different pocket of aforementioned coat and withdrew two copper coins. Aman took them with a smile, and the man rolled his eyes and winked. "Smile now, huh?"

Now it was Aman's turn to blush slightly, and she looked down quickly, closing up the log book and withdrawing it, before taking a key, complete with dragon keyring, and holding it out to the young man. He smiled and took it, then coughed slightly and leaned forward conspiratorially, and Aman subconciously did the same.

"Also, is there...is there anywhere I could, erm, get some...new clothes?" Beren finished hopefully. Aman nodded, understanding, while running through the possibilities. "There's nowhere very near by, although you could have come by something in the mathom sale..." she ignored the man's puzzled expression. "Never mind. Look, as I'm guessing you won't want to wear any of my clothes," the man's eyes widened, and he looked apprehensive, before Aman continued again. "so I'll ask Derufin to send up some of his clothes, if I can persuade him."

"Please do. In the meantime, could I get something for a parched throat?"

Aman drew an ale for Beren before slipping off to ask Derufin.

[ July 16, 2003: Message edited by: Amanaduial the archer ]

Vanataurien

07-16-2003, 09:44 AM

Vanataurien was little more than shocked at Soronume's story, but she attempted to remain impassive as he continued to speak. What else could she do? People had often confided in her because she would listen... but this was an incredible bit of knowledge.

She apologized, it had seemed the appropriate thing to do at the time, but Soronume voiced that she needn't be. She looked at him with shadowy eyes as he sunk back.

"I have lost someone close to me, as have you," she said finally. Her voice was soft, so as not to startle him. Soronume suddenly appeared to be listening and gave her a small nod to continue. "In my travels I met a man. He... Well, needless to say, I am an elf, he was a man. We fought side by side, and loved one another dearly, but he grew old as time went on, and he... well..." Her a ghostly tear trickled down her cheek. Soronume seemed saddened for her.

"He died." he stated, but not impassionately.

Vanataurien's eyes grew big. "Yes," she almost whispered, making her words difficult to hear. "Such is the burden of elvenhood. So I travelled, to be rid of my burdens, hoping to escape memories. That is truely how I came here." That seemed to end the topic, and Vanataurien finished her drink, leaving the both of them to think their seperate thoughts.

[ July 16, 2003: Message edited by: Vanataurien ]

Carrûn

07-16-2003, 01:51 PM

Awyrgan had long finished his meal & offered to aid the server in clearing his place but quickly realized that that was not his domain and politely excused himself.

He had noticed a few new visitors as he rose from his seat, one in particular caught his eye. Couldn't be, he told himself. Still...

He shook his head to clear his thoughts, remembering his brief morning discussion with Aman. Both had agreed that the man would be of little use in the kitchen or as a server, and she had tasked him to find Derufin; assuming that the handyman would have more use for him.

He had offered to aid with the drinks in preparation for the upcoming party if he was still in the region when the date arrived.

He stepped outside into the light and the Sun shone down brightly, chiding him for staying inside so late. "A fine day," he remarked quietly to himself. He glanced around. Now to find Derufin.

Beren87

07-16-2003, 02:53 PM

Beren silently sipped back his ale, feet up as he reclined in the lovely rocking chair present in his room. He laughed silently to himself remembering the innkeeper's obvious concern over his monetary situation. That, thankfully, was one thing he wouldn't have to worry about for quite a bit. His purses were many, and most all were still full, even though the trip had been a long one. He was crafty, if nothing else, so even if his money did run out eventually, there shouldn't be too much of a problem earning more in this pleasant little town.

He carefully observed his surroundings, the warmth of the small coals in the hearth going through him. There wasn't even a draft coming from the window, the building was made quite well. The table to one side had 4 chairs sitting around it, but being the newcomer he was, he doubted there would be much entertaining going on. He idly twirled the key through his fingers, debating whether or not to rest up here or to go down and mingle with the rest of the guests. His form was slightly daunting here, being among the hobbits, but he admired the little people's general acceptance of strangers, be they truly strange in shape. Even the lovely innkeeper seemed to be of at least Rohanesse decent.

In the end he decided instead to order up a good lunch for himself from the cook. Hopefully she would have some scraps left over from dinner that he could eat. He knew such inns didn't like to cook entire new meals just for one guest, so there was no bother with that. A traveler can't be picky, that's what the ones who had come back told him during their stories when he was a child. He had always loved listening to this stories, he'd know what he wanted to do his entire life, because of them.

"Ah, and I've finally gone about it too. A traveler! What a life" he silently exclaimed to himself, the words cutting the silence in the room. He arose out of the chair, and proceeded to clean himself up the best he could with the water bowl in his room.

"Well, traveling is certainly wonderful, but it does play horrid things with my features."

Envinyatar

07-16-2003, 09:03 PM

With a nod to Cami, Derufin excused himself from the group and rushed after Halfred as he wove his way down the path to the main road. Had they been looking at the ill- matched pair, they might have seen the Man crouch down and steady the wobbly kneed Hobbit, a searching look on his face as he spoke a few words. And they might have noted how the Hobbit looked blankly at the Man, then smiled and nodded as he patted the pockets of his vest. They would have seen the Man’s eyes light up with anticipation as he took the letter the Hobbit had finally fished so clumsily from his breeches pocket. Seen how he held it gently, his fingers running over the ink that noted his name . . . seen how he tucked it in the waistband of his breeches beneath his tunic, and how every so often his hand brushed past the edges of it.

But none of this was noted by anyone, and so it was a somewhat preoccupied Derufin who was hailed by Aman and who looked bemusedly at her as she made her odd request.

‘Clothes, you say?’ Derufin scratched his head and said he supposed he could offer the fellow a pair of breeches and a tunic. ‘I don’t suppose you could tell me if the man is anywhere near my height and size?’ Aman stepped back and eyeballed the stabler, making him turn in place. She threw up her hands at first, then her face brightened. ‘He had a serviceable belt, I think, and he can always roll the cuffs on the shirt and breeches if need be.’

‘Let me just look, then. I’ll bring them round this evening, before supper. What was his name?’

A look of mild amusement crept on his face as he heard her tone of voice. ‘Beren,’ she said, rolling the sound of it about in her mouth, savoring the taste of the syllables. ‘Beren,’ she said firmly, then, looking up at Derufin’s face, a look of defiance set behind her eyes.

He put his outspread hands toward her as he backed away, toward the stable, an ill-concealed grin on his face. ‘Beren, it is then, m’lady.’ He turned and made to go in to his quarters, but his mischievous side surfaced and he turned back to her with a wink. ‘Oh, and if it just so happen you should see said Beren before I do, just tell him Derufin will see to him this evening . . . and take his measure, so to speak . . .’

Not waiting for her reply, Derufin hurried off to the stable . . . laughing as he heard her mutter an epithet of the Mark to his retreating form.

‘Cheeky ba . . .’

[ July 16, 2003: Message edited by: Envinyatar ]

piosenniel

07-17-2003, 12:59 AM

‘If Falco Bobbin is coming, I’m bound to make my chicken and dumplings and Gammer Chubb’s apple crisp.’ Cook thumbed through her recipe book and jotted down a few ingredients she would need for the expected visitor. Ruby and Buttercup looked at one another as she did so, waiting for the opportune moment to ask a question.

Cook put down her pen, and Ruby nudged Buttercup in the side, nodding at Cook. Buttercup stepped forward, clearing her throat, and spoke. ‘Does this mean we will be expecting Falco this evening for supper, Miz Vinca?’

Vinca chewed on the end of her pen and nodded her head. She paused then looked up at Buttercup. ‘Is there some particular reason you need to know that?’ Ruby blushed and stuttered out a few words about needing to get the Triple-X brandy up for the crisp, and Buttercup started to giggle. ‘I see,’ said Cook, dotting the last ‘i’ on her list.

She smiled, sweeping the two now silent Hobbits with her gaze. ‘His father, you know, was considered the best looking lad in the Westfarthing.’ A dreamy look softened the features of her face. ‘And his Grandfather, now there was a looker! Not a lad could hold a candle to him in all four of the Farthings.’ Cook drummed her fingers on the table in a familiar rhythm. ‘Best dancer in the Westfarthing . . . I can tell you that.’ She bent over her list and added a few more items, as Ruby and Buttercup looked askance at one another.

Ruby opened her mouth to ask one more question, but was cut off by Cook’s admonition. ‘Best we get started on things, girls. Those Bobbin boys never did like their meals late, or their lasses to forward.’ She nodded at each of them, her brows raised in confirmation.

‘Yes. Ma’am,’ came the twin reply as they hurried off to gather what was needed, their heads bent together, whispering, with the occasional long look at Cook who seemed cast in a new and more interesting light to them.

___________________________________________

Cook mixed up two large pans of apple crisp, adding a large tot of brandy to each. She popped them in the oven to bake while she plucked the four old hens and one rooster that Derufin had delivered to her. She had wheedled him into sticking about and helping her. And soon he found himself elbow deep in feathers and innards.

‘What do you think Eodwine would want in the northwest corner of the Shire, Cook?’ he asked her, his attention focused for the most part on abstracting the stubborn pinfeathers. ‘Never been there myself,’ he said, hanging his latest plucked hen up by the feet from the line in the yard to bleed out completely.

‘I’m surprised you haven’t,’ returned Cook, taking the cleaver to disjoint her chicken. ‘Lake Nenuial is up there – in the hills of Evendim.’ She looked at him expectantly.

He nodded his head slowly. ‘The old tales, isn’t it?’ He picked up another hen, and set to work on it. ‘Annuminas! Now I recall it. The city of the Kings of Arnor. Elendil’s city.’ ‘You know,’ he said thoughtfully, his fingers slowed to a halt against the feathers of the hen’s back, ‘there has long been a rumor, since Elessar took the throne, that he would restore that ancient city of Men.’ He shrugged and picked up the pace of his plucking. ‘I wonder if it’s true? And if so, did Eodwine know about these plans?’

Derufin turned these thoughts over in his mind, itching to know what was in the man’s satchel. What sort of light would the contents throw on the disappearance of the man from Rohan. Cook’s voice broke in on his thoughts, scattering his wonderings with the downy feathers floating on the late afternoon breeze.

‘Let’s get these into the pot and stewing with the herbs and onions.’ She poked him in the ribs with her finger tip. ‘And you can make up the dough for the dumplings, my good sir. You did well enough with the biscuits the night you pitched in – might as well learn the trick of these.’ She winked at him, and herded him into the kitchen. ‘Makes you more attractive as a husband if you can cook as well as stand about and look pretty.’ She cackled at his discomfiture, and taking the hens from his hands, threw him an apron followed by the key to the pantry.

‘Flour’s on the bottom shelf, left,’ she reminded him, wondering if his ears would burst into flame, should they turn any redder . . .

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

piosenniel

07-17-2003, 01:19 AM

Please Note Time change

It is now late mid-afternoon in the Shire.

Everdawn

07-17-2003, 04:55 AM

The side of Scylla's mouth twitched as if to smile and she sat down with a great sigh of relief. Niniel had invited her to join them and she was greatful. It wasnt often that you met decent folk on the road, and Scylla had her fair share of ill-dealings.

Scylla sat down before first switching her eyes around the room. There were many men of the south here, and it partly made her nervous, however, if she was, it did not show on her face. Nineil seemed rather scared at her sudden appearance. Scylla switched her sharp eyes back. "Im sorry if i seem a little on the rough side, my occupation allows little time for me to relax you see."

Her personality soon made her seem warm. "So" she said taking her turn to speak. "What of both of you? Where are you form? what do you do? how many men have you killed?" Scylla had said this in good nature, and would have taken it as successful if it had not been for the sudden intake of breath at the table and the looks on Chrestienne and Nineil's faces. "What?" asked Scylla and then realising her mistake spoke again "I mean, i was only playing, you havent killed anyone of course, i mean... i mean i really have not well not technically anyway." now it was Scylla's time to stumble, she stopped and started again. "What i mean to say is, where do you all come from, what of your houses?" and sat with a smile across her happy face.

Tinuviel of Denton

07-17-2003, 08:23 AM

Niniel smiled, a little flustered at Scylla's light-hearted treating of the subject of killing men. A joke? Just playing? The idea frightened her. Not just that Scylla could say something like that and mean it only as a joke, but that it seemed that, to Scylla at least, the idea was not as foreign as it was to the gentle Niniel.

"I--I don't know where I--I'm from. I d-don't remember. I--I can't remember any of it," she stammered, looking around a little frantically. She had been used to Soronume's protection at the other table, and now that he was not here, was floundering on how to answer without seeming too strange.

Scylla seemed to be friendly; was her slip earlier just a bad-mannered joke as she said? Or did it mean something about the woman that Niniel didn't want to think about. Niniel tugged on her braided hair, and smiled again, nervously.

[ July 17, 2003: Message edited by: Tinuviel of Denton ]

Hilde Bracegirdle

07-17-2003, 10:14 AM

Kaldir’s gray stallion had backed away with indignant snorts from the invading hobbit, trying to get a better view of the swift moving creature. Thinking this rather fortunate, Gilly had then checked the floor for something, a sign of Benia, some clue about Kaldir perhaps. She didn’t especially like horses, never had any call to be so near one before. But she had to admit this was a fine one, so tall and imposing, albeit a bit skittish.

Gilly had swept quickly along the floor; the horse uneasy with the hobbit’s agitated demeanor had continued to back up toward the wall all the while.

With some trepidation Gilly had drawn abreast the beast’s dappled side, stooping low to search the among shadows. She was most discouraged that she found naught but that the stall needed cleaning on that side particularly, and thus had failed to notice Nico’s head swing around to attack her flank, so to speak.

The hobbit shot upright in response, hitting her head rather hard against her assailant’s ribs.

“Oh you vicious brute!” she had snapped retreating, for the horse had begun bobbing up and down on it's front legs, muttering his own abuse before rearing up on his hind legs to launch a fresh assault. Each lunge had brought him closer to Gilly as she made her hasty departure. She could hear the angry beast's hooves batter the stall door with emphasis after she had ran out of the stable.

Clack, clack, thud. Clack, clack, thud. Clack, clack, slosh, crack!

I see he's found his water bucket, Gilly had thought. Perhaps it will quench his temper as well!
Hand on her injured hind quarters, the winded hobbit painfully crossed the yard toward the inn.

Ealasaid

07-17-2003, 10:34 AM

Outside the inn in the small grove of trees, Kaldir stood silently, fully concealed in the shadows. After having carried the injured Lespheria in from the barn, he had followed Vanwe out again into the trees with the intention of capturing her, should the opportunity arise, while she was isolated among the trees and preoccupied with her search for herbs. He had watched her grubbing about the earth with her little knife, all the while moving in silently, closer and closer to her position. He smiled to himself. A little knife like that would offer her no protection, at least not from him. The other one, Benia Nightshade, had had a knife, too. He had it now, and was a little loathe to part with it. Made by a skilled Haradrim artisan, the blade was sharp and of high quality steel. The sheath, too, was a thing of beauty, the leather intricately tooled and inlaid with silver and lapis lazuli. He had been lucky enough to find it concealed on her person before leaving her alone in the empty cellar of the old Smith's shop. If he hadn't, she could have cut herself loose in no time.

He was just closing in on Vanwe, when he felt the distinct sensation that someone else was present in the wood, watching. Kaldir melted back into the foliage, allowing Vanwe to slip away again. He watched as she ran back to the inn with her small harvest of herbs. Once she had vanished inside, he closed his eyes, opening his senses to his surroundings. Someone was definitely there in the wood with him, someone with a strong energy. Someone of whom he should be wary. He opened his eyes again. It would be wise to remain alert. He felt the hairs stand up on the back of his neck, as his pale eyes scanned the wood around him.

[ July 17, 2003: Message edited by: Ealasaid ]

Elora

07-17-2003, 06:24 PM

Vanwe remained for as long as she could, Lespheria sleeping through the exhaustion of the morning's turmoil. She had the distinct impression that Amandur was trying to pluck information from her, without openly doing so. Vanwe herself thought she knew nothing of value and worriedly answered as best she could. She knew how people in positions of authority reacted to evasion. Her time spent in Umbar and Gondor had made that clear.

So she walked a thin line between honesty and trying to dispel whatever uncertainty Amandur harboured about her. The questions about her father she met with blank expression, for she knew nothing. She had been told he was dead. The questions about her mother, indirect as they were, she was guarded about and offered little. Vanwe set a folded cloak on the table where other possessions had been neatly packed and excused herself at the first opportunity.

"I have duties in the stables that I have not yet seen to. Lespheria still sleeps. I will return later to see how she fares, if you will Lord." Amandur watched her curtsy and inwardly sighed. Vanwe had proved as communicative as a stone, but whether it was deception or innocence he could not yet say. He nodded, dissatisfied and released her with, "Yes, perhaps that is best. We may yet have need of you later."

Vanwe nodded, cast an almost longing look at Lespheria who could perhaps vouch for her and dispell Amandur's doubts, and left the room. Wrapped in her thoughts, she patted the pouch in which the key to Lespheria's room had been placed and wound through the inn, an island amidst the crowd. When she pushed through the entrance and stood on the outside steps of the inn, Vanwe breathed deeply to shake the cobwebs from her thoughts.

She was not sure if she should avoid Amandur altogether or not. Certainly, Lespheria trusted him, but he seemed to look at her with a knowledge that pierced. She did not know what he saw, and it troubled her. Looking about and catching the stable building, Vanwe felt the stab of guilt at her neglect of her duties. She tucked errant strands of hair behind her ears, no time to braid it back out of her eyes, and set off across the courtyard for the stables.

She heard a distinctly hobbit-like voice curse a horse that seemed to be restless and skittish. Yet she could see noone just yet who owned the voice she had heard. With a faint frown, Vanwe entered the stables and made for the skittish horse. Kaldir's horse, she realised with a start and paused. Gripping her skirts, Vanwe pushed herself onwards, and came face to face with a very put out Gilly, who scowled at Vanwe as she stared at the hobbit in patent surprise.

"What are you doing here," Gilly whispered.
"My work," Vanwe replied in a mystified voice. Gilly levelled a frankly suspicious glare at Vanwe, and Vanwe blinked at it's force. Gilly was clearly upset.

"I'll bet you are! Do it somewhere else," she urged Vanwe, none too happily.
"But what are you doing," Vanwe pressed, eyeing the skittish horse and wondering how long it would be before it's owner appeared out of the shadows with a shiver of dread.
"That is none of your business, Miss," said Gilly. Her tone suggested Vanwe should know perfectly well.

Vanwe stared a little longer. "Go on, then," Gilly said, waving her hands at Vanwe in a shooing motion. Worry appeared in her small face, as if Vanwe was the individual to be fearful of. Vanwe stepped back, still bewildered.

"The horse may harm you," she said with the beginings of refusal to heed Gilly's command.
"I can handle the brute," said Gilly with admirable forced bravery. Vanwe held her hands up and surrendered. With a long look over her shoulder, she collected shovel and buckets in one hand and a half full sack of grain under the other arm and set off for the corraled horses behind the stables.

It was mid-afternoon already, she realised, and her stomach complained of it's emptiness just as the horses did when they saw her approach. They reprimanded her with reproachful snorts and mournful expressions as Vanwe cleared out what was left of the grain from the long wooden troughs that hung from the fence rung and replaced it with fresh feed to supplement the grass of the corral. Derufin would not be well pleased, and her cheeks were bright with her own remorse.

Once the heaviest of her burdens had been seen to, Vanwe set the now much lighter sack of grain down by her shovel as the horses greedily jostled at the new grain in the hanging trough. She picked up the buckets and walked further to where the water trough sat, fringed by vibrant green grass in the shade of the afternoon. It had been a hot day, by northern standards she supposed.

The trough showed the evidence of the horses' thirst and clearly needed to be filled. It was her own fault, and so she repressed a sigh and started the wearying task of ferrying water from well to trough. After the third trip, Vanwe was feeling distinctly light headed herself, having missed breakfast and lunch and now carrying the heavy water buckets back and forth.

Two more trips had the water replentished again, and Vanwe had to sit down. The sun was overbright and so she made for a pool of shade by a knot of trees. Gratefully, she sat beneath one, leaning against the bole of the tree and closing her eyes. Just a little rest, she told herself with yet more guilt and she would start on the rest of the day's work and then appear before Derufin who would surely be justified in discharging her from her duties.

She hadn't seen him all day. Just a little rest. The afternoon breeze sung through the trees and was cool against her face. It danced over another who was smiling with a predator's satisfaction and began to silently move with elven grace towards her prey. It whispered past a second, who was distracted between two quarries of a very different nature. Yet, his decision was made, and he too moved to that pleasant pool of shade that had called Vanwe.

Kates Frodo Temp

07-17-2003, 06:38 PM

Soon she'll be home. Well, that's one less burden on my mind! Aietmen smiled to himself as he thought of Rosie. He would miss her, no doubt, when he got back on the road, but for now he was perfectly content. Mine is a lonely life, and there's no changing it.

The wood not far from the Inn was a perfect place to hide for a few days, and Aietmen had been taking full advantage. His knowledge of the forest, together with quiet visits to the nearby farms had kept the hobbit boy supplied in food.

Good job the weather's stayed clear for me! There's not much shelter here, and I don't much care to take another visit to the inn! Aietmen made a face, and laughed, thoughtfully. His experience had not been a pleasant one, and Aietmen could do without any more human company. Horse theif indeed! Yet, the place was somehow attracting.

Rosie must love it here. Everything is so quiet, and the people seem pleasant enough. Why did she ever leave, I wonder?

littlemanpoet

07-17-2003, 08:36 PM

A jaunty hobbit came through the front door dressed in shirrif's garb. He was just out of his tweens. He sat at the bar and greeted Aman merrily, identifying himself as Falco Bobbin. She asked what he'd have and he answered, and she placed a frothy mug before him. He drank deep and set down the mug, letting out a happy sigh.

"Shirriffing's thirsty work, you know. O'course I knew The Green Dragon Inn was at the end of my trip from Michel Delving. And I'll tell you, it kept my spirits up, it did!" He grinned, his eyes twinkling.

"You're welcome here any time, Falco Bobbin." Aman had warmed to him already. Friendlier than most hobbits, she thought, and that's saying something! "I hear tell you have news, but I'd not rush you. Take your time!"

"Oh, aye. I'll just swallow me another drag o' this here brew (I've had no better mind you), an' you and any others who wants to can hear what I knows." He lifted his mug again and his face was refracted through the opaqueness of the clear mug and golden ale. Setting down his mug again he said, "Gather around who you might and I'll tell my story."

Aman spread the word and soon a little crowd surrounded the hobbit, among whom were two pair of hobbit-lass eyes fluttering prettily. Falco never gave on that he noticed, nor that he didn't. Leastways, he launched into his tale, and this was what his hearers learned.

A wanderer skirting the north of the Shire from east to west, came upon a satchel surrounded by hoof prints, foot prints, broken brambles, scuffed grass, and other signs that a fair number of folk had been there. It was enough for the traveler to make a guess that there had been a scuffle, there being dried blood on a stone. More than that was hard to say. Where it was, was about twenty mile north by west of Michel Delving.

"Up toward Lake Nenuiel?" One voice broached.

"So I've heard tell," Falco answered, "but there's no saying the footprints leading away went toward that Lake. Leastways, not according to our wanderer. You can ask what you like of him as he'll be here hisself on the morrow. There! That's an end to what I know. Tellin' my tale has made me hungry!"

"What was in the satchel, Falco?" That was Derufin.

"Nary but a harp, but broke like it'd been throwed away. Can't say as I'd toss mine own harp like that, if you take my meaning."

Everdawn

07-18-2003, 12:39 AM

Scylla thought Nineil was making a jest at her. "What do you mean you dont know where you come from?" It seemed strange that one would be able to forget ones life. "No matter." she said waving her hand aside.

"We all have our faults. I myself am a horse trader, of Ithilien, of course since, well that isnt releavent for now is it?. If any time you have heard of a Rohan man say he has had a run-in with the Empress of Deception, it is most likely that he was reffering to me. Not that any of my horses are shifty, they are the best. Brumbies mostly, wild horses I have broken in down on my selection in the South of Gondor. It handles more business than one may think."

She smiled at the poor girl before her. "You were serious werent you! you really have no idea. Well what are you going to do? Surely there is someone who can tell you where you are from?"

Tinuviel of Denton

07-18-2003, 07:22 AM

Someone who could tell her where she was from, tell her who she was? If there was such a person, she would have sought them out a long time ago. No, she feared that all her kin had died with her memories, nine years ago. She shook her head. "I--I am grateful f-for your concern, b-b-but I haven't known who I--I am for nine years now. I--I do not think I--I ever will."

Scylla looked at her quizzically. "I can't imagine how you wouldn't know who you are or where you came from. That's silly," she said.

Niniel shook her head again. "Not so silly," she countered. "Have you never heard of Turin Turambar and his sister, Nienor Niniel? Nienor lost her memories even as I, and...well, the rest of the story is not pleasant." In her anger, she failed to notice that for once her speech was clear, without a trace of a stutter. "I took my name from Niniel, and I will probably take another when I leave here."

[ July 18, 2003: Message edited by: Tinuviel of Denton ]

Rochelle

07-18-2003, 11:42 AM

She remained seated, using what was left of the water in her canteen to work out the dirt on her boots. She'd remember to fill it back up before she departed once more. Her blades needed cleaning, but she would wait until she was by her lonesome to do anything of the sort. People got nervous real easy these days.

She bought a meager meal of bread and cheese from the innkeeper, and downed them heartily. She was hungry and that was a fact. She leaned back upon finishing, then went to stand. Quellë hated to be stabled, and she wouldn't make him stay there longer then necessary.

She tucked the stray strand of blonde back underneath her hood before moving to exit the inn. The sunlight was bold and she ducked her head, enabling to the hood to help shade her eyes. She made way to the stables and smirked when she heard adament squeals of distaste and bad temper. An occassional knock of hoof against wood was to be expected. She entered the dimly lit stable and placed a hand upon the stallions muzzle. Immediately calming him down, excluding the snort of disapproval that soon followed.

piosenniel

07-18-2003, 03:02 PM

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Notice of New Game Opening ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The X Phial, Belin, and Susan Delgado invite you to play:

~*~*~*~ RECLAIMING THE LOST KINGDOM ~*~*~*~

The Discussion Thread will open on Tuesday, July 22nd.

Until then read the game proposal carefully, develop an interesting character, and craft a descriptive, solidly written First Post.

Should be a fun game - come check it out! smilies/biggrin.gif

[ July 18, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

piosenniel

07-18-2003, 03:05 PM

Hilde Bracegirdle

07-18-2003, 03:15 PM

Gilly strode across the yard pondering her conversation with Vanwe. The elf worked there than…. She seemed terribly edgey to be employed in such a public place. She couldn’t have been there long either or the tongues in Bywater would have set to speculating who such a paradox might be. At the least it was unlikely that she had anything to do with Benia’s disappearance, and Gilly concluded that she couldn’t possibly be a scout from the south.

The passing day weighed heavily on the hobbit as she determined that if she couldn’t find some indication of her friend’s whereabouts she needs must raise an alarm. Every fleeting moment could be taking Benia beyond the hobbit’s limited grasp, and as much as she was loath to draw attention to the southerner’s plight, she thought that circumstances now warranted it.

Returning to Benia’s rooms Gilly took up Old Jack Nightshade’s sword and swung it over her shoulder. She reached back to see if she could draw the heavy blade and found that she could, though the end of the scabbard flipped up as she pulled the sword from it’s sheath.

Returning to Benia’s rooms Gilly took up Old Jack Nightshade’s sword and swung it over her shoulder. She reached back to see if she could draw the heavy blade and found that she could, though the end of the scabbard flipped up as she pulled the sword from it’s sheath. It as awkward arrangement but serviceable.

Remembering that there was a no weapons policy at the inn and vaguely marveling at how her friend had managed to retain the use of her father’s sword, the hobbit chose to leave by the same route as her friend. Looking about to see that no one was watching, she carefully climbed out of the open window and descended down by use of the woody vines that grew thickly on this lonely side of the building.

The birds were not singing, and Gilly had a keen sense of foreboding as she softly and quietly searched the woods that ran alongside the the inn.

[ July 18, 2003: Message edited by: Hilde Bracegirdle ]

Ealasaid

07-18-2003, 04:27 PM

I must be going soft in the head,Kaldir thought to himself as he trailed Vanwe soundlessly toward the little patch of shade. First letting myself get sidetracked by a woman's eyes and now jumping at shadows like a frightened deer. It was absurd. He would have to get himself together and quickly. Too much was at stake. What was the matter with him all of the sudden?

First, there was the fact the Benia Nightshade was still alive. When he had taken her out of the inn the night before, his intention had been to kill her right away, chop off her tattooed hands, which were really all he needed in order to collect the bounty on her, and begin pursuit of his next quarry. He had even prepared in advance, stocking the cellar with an axe, a pound of salt, and a thick leather sack, the salt being to cure the severed hands, the sack to transport them. Yet she still lived.

The look in her amber eyes at that moment in her room, when he had reminded her that should she cry out the first person to come to her aid and be slain would be her friend Gilly, had affected him in a strange way. No fear. No anger. Only a deep sadness had entered her eyes before she lowered her dark lashes and struggled against him no more. Later, in the cellar of the deserted smithy, he had undone the rope that bound her hands behind her and retied them in the front with the intention of completing his plans, but found himself unable to lay her wrists across the chopping block. Instead, he had stared at the intricate patterns of the tribal tattoos. Then, to as much his own surprise as hers, he had simply kissed each of her palms and left her. Now, he couldn't get the image of her eyes or her shining black hair out of his mind.

And now, this sensation of being watched. His well-honed survival instincts screamed at him to beware, yet he was unable to find the source of the disturbance. Whatever it was, it seemed to follow him as well as Vanwe. Again and again, his eyes scanned the wood, even the treetops, finding nothing. Naiore, perhaps? Surely not.But her image haunted him, her face alternating with that of Benia. Then the memories, the ones from the dead place, began to crawl up like grinning imps from a hole in the floor of his mind: clouds of black smoke. Fire. Pain. Thick waves of pain. He flinched and, without thinking, raised one hand to his forehead.

Catching the movement from the corner of her eyes, Vanwe hesitated at the edge of the glen. He froze, trusting in his skills of concealment. She stared in his direction, uncertain of what she had seen or if anything had even been there at all.

Beren87

07-18-2003, 08:52 PM

Beren surveyed himself in the mirror, comforted by the tingle of his freshly washed skin. Surely if he was able to soon scour new clothes, he could pass as rather decent. Blue eyes peered back at his 6 foot frame, his skin slightly lighter than that of the hobbits here in the village.

The sky outside was a brilliant blue, without a cloud though there was a slight chilling wind in the air. Beren decided to leave the confines of his little room in the hopes of not only finding clothes, but also meeting the people of the village. And, if his luck held out as it was, seeing the lovely innkeeper once again.

He strolled out of his room, breathing the air in the corridor from the window to his far right. The stairs a short flight, then down into the main room of the Inn. There were a few people around, but being early in the day there wasn't quite the coming and going as there generally seemed to be at nights in Inns. He was a frequent visitor of Inns, proffering them even to his house when in Gondor, no matter what livelry adorned its walls.

"Well, now I'm in a fix...What was that man's name..Derufin? I can't remember" He silently mumbled to himself. There was certainly no harm in eating at least.

"Ah..miss!" he called to a slightly greying Hobbit-woman. "Are you the server at this establisment?"

"That I am dear sir, my name's Ruby, Ruby Brown. What will you be needing?"

"Well, whatever you have back there is fine. Just something to eat before supper rolls around, you know. Still on the scavage for clothes!."

She looked his ruffled and ripped clothes over with a glance. "Yes..I can certianly see that. Now wait, you weren't that Beren man the innkeeper came in here a raving about are you? She asked Derufin for a tunic and such for you. He'll be around sometime before supper, always is".

"Well then! I'm in rather good shape now, aren't I? So, something to quench the roar of my stomach and I'll be lovely indeed."

"Well Beren, sir, I'll be right back with some-at for you." She said with a smile, dissapearing into the kitchen behind her.

littlemanpoet

07-19-2003, 08:46 AM

Falco Bobbin wasn't going nowhere. He'd told his news and questions had been asked, so he'd done his part. Then Cook gave out that she was making supper and "don't you be runnin' off without any". Falco wasn't going nowhere.

He had plenty of catching up to do with the folk hereabouts, and they wanted news of Michel Delving. Sure, there was constant coming and going from the middle of the Shire to either end and back, but no news was old news if it came from a different mouth, the more willing and friendly the better. So Falco held forth on who gave what mathoms to whom, how it was with relations from here to the Towers and back, and what all he knew else. And he got as good as he gave.

Not least amongst all the talk was mention by and by of what Hobbit lasses were unattached and willing to be visited by eligible bachelors such as hisself. O'course, it wasn't hard to notice such eligible lasses right here in The Green Dragon Inn. Two such pretties seemed to be all about while he sat at table, serving this Elf and that Human, cleanin' this, scrubbin' that, and nary a glance his way but oh so busy within easy catch of his eye.

An' he had their names 'afore long: Ruby and Buttercup. Well now, fancy that. There was a flower name in Buttercup, and a precious stone name in Ruby. Pretty as you please, and fitting as far as he could tell. Yes, it was going to be a fine evening. Falco wasn't going nowhere this night.

Envinyatar

07-19-2003, 01:56 PM

‘You know, it would make a lot more sense, if you two loaded up the serving trays completely, instead of taking a few plates out at a time.’ Cook was busy dishing up the meal as Buttercup and Ruby fidgeted in place, grabbing the plates from her almost before she finished them.

Derufin, his apron still in place, fished the plump, fragrant dumplings from the broth, and set them on the plates two at a time. He nudged Cook in the side, causing her to nearly drop the peas and corn she was serving up beside them. ‘Never jostle the cook,’ she snapped at him, her head bent to the task. He nudged her again, and she looked up at him exasperated. His chin went up as he pointed to the two Hobbit lasses who now stood arguing over the salt cellar.

‘It’s me who heard him ask for some salt,’ hissed Ruby, her hand grasped firmly around the stoneware container with its silver spoon. ‘Well, it’s me who said I’d bring it to him,’ rejoined Buttercup, her hands fixed firmly over Ruby’s.

‘You silly geese!’ cried Cook, whacking the serving spoon down on the table. The salt cellar went flying and fell to the stone floor of the kitchen, breaking into a myriad of pieces, salt flying everywhere. Ruby glared at Buttercup, who stomped her foot and glared right back.

‘You two!’ boomed Cook over their quarrel. ‘Get this mess cleaned up. Now!’ The two faces of the serving maids fell, their lips trembling in protest. ‘But, Cook . . .,’ they protested. ‘But nothing,’ she replied, handing them the broom and dust pan. ‘Every last grain, ladies,’ she pronounced. Picking up the tray of filled plates. ‘And make sure the cracks are cleaned out, too!’

‘Come Derufin! We’ve got hungry guests to feed. I’ll pass the plates, you fill their cups.’

She sailed out the door to the common room like a great frigate, the still aproned Derufin following in her wake. A smiling, handsome face turned her way as she came through the door, then looked beyond her as if expecting someone else.

‘Falco Bobbin,’ she said shaking her head as she approached his table and stopped by his chair. ‘I might have known you would be the source of the trouble!’ She sailed on to the next table, leaving him with a perplexed look on his face and no explanation. Derufin shrugged when the Hobbit looked up at him, raising his brows in question. ‘Sorry, mate, if it was Ruby and Buttercup you were expecting, let’s just say they’re busy at the moment.’ He filled the cup to the brim and hurried after Cook.

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

At the last table he served, sat a man he didn’t know. Tall, lean, raggedy clothes – though brushed clean of dust. Blues eyes stared up at him from a fair skinned face. A smile, barely hidden, played about his lips at he looked Derufin over.

Derufin filled the man’s mug, then stepped back a pace and bowed. ‘Like my apron, sir? I see you admiring it.’ He fingered the edge of the neck strap. ‘A mark of great distinction, here in the Green Dragon, to wear the livery of Herself’s Kitchen. Not many men are granted the honor.’

He heard Cook call his name, and he waved to her, indicating he would be there soon. His gaze slid back to the seated man, and he looked him over with a critical eye. ‘You’re Beren, aren’t you? The one that Aman spoke of.’ His eyes swept over the man once again. ‘We’re about the same height, I think. Though you may be a little taller. And my frame’s a little meatier than yours. Still I think I have some things that would do for you.’ Cook called for him again, a note of impatience now evident in her tone.

‘Come by my quarters, later tonight. The east end of the stable. I’ll have them ready for you.’ He bowed once again and hurried off . . .

Esgallhugwen

07-19-2003, 07:58 PM

A pitch black horse rode up it's dark eyes shining and upon his back was a tall figure clad in a light cloak of dark green for it is summer and there is no need for heavy attire on such a fine evening. The rider slid off the saddle effortlessly giving her steed a rub on the head.

She took the reins and walked over to the stables having no need for the tying post her horse she knew would not bolt away for he is fearless in the face of evil. Shrouded in an air of mystery she walked almost on air towards the door of the Green Dragon pushing it open without the slightest hint of a creak in the hinges.

She looked around her, face shadowed by the long hood,her boots partially muddy from a hunt an hour before, she caught an open table in the corner of her eye. Turning she headed towards it; cloak lifting up slightly behind her she sat at the table.

Looking from beneath her hood she quietly observed the little people scurrying about serving people their meals and drinks. Some of the tenants at the tables stopped in mid-sentence to look upon her shadowed figure, there was a darkness in her that made many stare uneasily, a server stumbled spilling some of the brew from the jug while he stared.

Many thinking that at any minute she would pull out her elven bow and scewer every one of them. She only wished to have a drink and perhaps a bit of the local food and ask if a room was available to accomidate her at such a short notice.

She bowed her head, thinking deeply 'you are alone now... will you ever go back to your people after what "they" did, some remain in groups, others scattered but more have been slain than those that have survived' she pleaded with herself to forget those things, she will be alone she never was one to be surrouned by far too many people, and besides they are of strong blood. Sensing that she was safe here, although inside, she was with good company though she knew no one.

'Many of the people here are of good heart and not easily corruptible!' she thought smiling.

Elora

07-19-2003, 11:27 PM

Naiore, should she have wished it, could have easily set her hands upon her daughter by now. She watched Vanwe sit up and scan behind her tree belatedly. How the girl had ever managed to elude the village and get this far north in one piece was remarkable. Her lips twitched in a smile that faded a little as the brilliance of her daughter's eyes caught sunlight before she turned her face away. She remembered Vanwe's eyes from her birth, the same as her fathers, yet it had not prepared her for the striking similarity all these years later.

How the fools in the South mistook her for her daughter on that basis alone brought a derisive expression to Naiore's face as she settled in to wait for her bait to draw the other out. Still, few survived to explain details such as eye colour, and those that did usually were intent on escape and not getting a closer look. As Vanwe settled back against her tree, buckets lying empty nearby on the grass, Naiore watched for the man.

Kaldir had been both unremarkable and unique, she recalled. A Man and prone as most Men to particular interrogation methods. Still, he had proved resilient, and admist the pain that soaked his every thought and sensation at the time, through the acrid smoke that sometimes brought that pain, Naiore sensed something deeper and darker. It was then that she realised that so much more could be achieved if he lived.

His rage would make him a powerful tool, though he would not know he served. A fallen Ranger, one of Numenor's descendants who found his own dark path once she showed him where and how to look for it. He cursed her, wished her dead, but all the while she was teaching him. It was more than amusing that he had become so effective at spreading the darkness that she served with his now cruel ways, aimed that once he once served and protected. Such corruption of what once had been so strong, into something more fearsome and powerful than those blinded by their shallow facades of "good" and "right" could ever fathom, until it dealt them their ends.

Years spent in hiding, a fugitive hunted after the War, devoid of the power she once had through Sauron, had probed difficult for Naiore. So, she sat savouring her work in Kaldir, waiting for him to draw closer in hunt of Vanwe. Such rewards had been hard to come by of late. Perhaps she would teach Kaldir more, scream and bellow as he would. Certainly Vanwe would be dealt with, and then the village that had failed to hold her.

Then, perhaps she could start on other Rangers, and her own kin. Let the hunters become the prey. She could wait a long time in this northern backwater for that delight. Vanwe, who had nearly startled herself out her wits when an afternoon shadow moved at the edges of her vision, tried to smooth her breathing. She closed her eyes against half glimpsed imaginary shadows, breathing deeply and hands relaxing by her side as the leaves swayed over her head. As she fell further into dozing, a thought winnowed through her awareness like a small silver fish in the shallows. Silvanis said he would be back, but where had he gone and when would he return? And, where was Benia? She had not seen her all day. And when would Amandur grow impatience with her answers to his questions and press harder? They always did, until you told them.

Stand, do not flee came the drowsy reminder. Lulled by the peace of the afternoon, the breeze in the trees, Vanwe drifted in a fog of sleep.

Elen Ilúvitauri

07-20-2003, 01:10 AM

The figure of a short woman clad all in blue entered the Inn. She laughed quietly to herself. Trust her to pick such a place... halflings! she thought.

In the corner of the room she spotted Scylla, Speak of the demonshe snickered and creeped over to her. She removed her blue cloak revealing the face of a relatively young woman with cropped white-blonde hair, unusual for a woman.

"Scylla! i have a bone to pick with you! How dare you put me in that position!"

She could see that Scylla was holding back a smile.

"What do you mean cousin?" she remarked slyly.

"You know well what i mean! The farmers in Rohan, their order for seven horses, seven weeks late, two of the short, some claim they were stolen from the south of Harad."

"Yebasian, They choose to do business with me, they play by my rules." said Scylla to her cousin. "Have a seat" Yebasian hesitated, then angrily sat, saying hello to the other two seated with Scylla. "Mark my words Scylla, one of these days..."

[ July 21, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

Nerindel

07-20-2003, 06:15 AM

Midday

Lespheria awoke to the midday sun, shining through her room window and Amandur smiling down on her, "Here, Vanwe brought this for you, though I am afraid it has cool somewhat while you slept" She could see Amandur's hesitation as he handed her the small earthen mug, it was his nature not to trust and he did not have her abilities. She took the mug from his hands and drank deeply, to assure him that she had no doubt that Vanwe meant her no harm.

The Tincture was still warm as it ran down her throat, she could taste the mixture of herb's and roots that made up the infusion, almost at once the medicinal properties of the liquid began to work, dulling the pain and Léspheria was impressed when she realised that her senses were unaffected, she closed her eyes for a few minutes in meditation, so she could close her mind to Lothaniel's pain, but a little remained, just enough to remind her how much trouble her brother was in.

When she opened them again she noticed that her things were already packed and that Amandur was still watching her, his rugged features lined with worry. "I am fine" she reassured him, smiling warmly as he looked at her dubiously. She got up and went over to inspect her pack, "Vanwe helped me to pack it," he told her. Lespheria could tell by the tone in his voice that he still harboured some doubt, and she did not blame him for he had spent many years guarding Menecin from himself, he had seen what Vanwe's mother had done to the once great bard. Although neither one of them had faced Naiore, both of them had been greatly wronged by her. Léspheria, her mother death and other things she yet knew not and Amandur, his father had been kill by Naiore while he was but a lad.

"Then I have no doubt that every thing is in order" she smiled, "you are too trusting, but you have an advantage over me, so I will trust to your judgement" he said again turning to watch out the window, she saw him suddenly stiffen, "What is it?" she asked moving to join him at the window. "A shadow, there between the trees, it was fleeting but I'm sure I saw it." Léspheria stretched out her senses to try to locate this shadow Amandur saw, "Kaldir," She sighed after a moment, Amandur looked at her waiting for her to explain, but instead she sadly asked "Do you know him?" Amandur shook his head wearily, "He looks familiar, but his face is badly scarred that I cannot place were or how I know this man, it could be that he was present during the war, or that he has brought criminals to Annúminas or Gondor."

She nodded at Amandur's words, then decided that she must share what she felt when around this ranger, "He has much pain and resentment within him ," she said turning and looking to her young friend, His eyes softened as he spoke, "So, do many of my kin, you know this." "Yes I know, but you do not understand this rangers pain is familar to me," Amandur's eyes widened slightly with as he measured the depths of Léspheria's words. They were both silent for a moment, then Amandur spoke again "You do not think he would try to use the daughter against her mother," "I am afraid that I think he would, " she said sadly. "Does he not know that, that would not work!" Amandur exclaimed incredulously. "We know not what Naiore feels for her daughter, after all she is her flesh and blood" Lespheria answered diplomatically. Amandur raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. He thought Léspheria a little naive for thinking such thing of Naiore, but he respected and loved her enough not to say so.

"We can go down if you are concerned" he said, seeing Léspheria's gaze shift back to were Kaldir had been. I do not want to seem like we are smothering Vanwe, but I wish to pack losseserme, and check that she is alright after the fright I have given her, My harp she said looking wildly around, I was carrying it when I fell." she picked up her pack and hurried towards the door, Amandur following behind her. "it is my mothers" she said feeling him watching her askingly. The pair picked up their pace as they walked across the busy common room. The midday sun washed warmly over her fair elven features as she stepped out into the courtyard, as she and Amandur walked briskly to the stables, Léspheria suddenly felt a fleeting shadow of darkness, she stopped in her tracks "What is it" Amandur whispered as he watched her scan the shadow of the trees that ran along bywater pool, "Nothing" she said shaking her head, not sure if she had really felt such strong an emotion from another person.

She passed quickly into the stable, although she was not sure if the feeling had been real it still unnerved her. She and Amandur went straight to the white mares stall, the mare whinnied at the sight of her mistress, and as Léspheria stroke Losseserme's long mane she muzzled into her "Enough" she laughed "I am well" she assured the horse. She tied her pack securely to her saddle, then giving the mare another loving stroke she turned back to Amandur, who was stood by the stable door watching to see if he could catch a glimpse of what Lespheria had sensed. "It should be about here somewhere" she said distracting him from his watch, looking down at her search the sawdust strewn floor, he felt compelled to help her, he search for some time, "It's not here" Léspheria sighed. She was upset at having lost it but she did not think that it's loss was of any consequence, but Amandur thought differently he was still concerned that Naiore would mistake Léspheria for her mother and he remembered that Valaindon had carried that harp everywhere also and that it also born the crest of the house of Finarfin. If it fell into Naiore's hands it could have dire consequences.

piosenniel

07-20-2003, 10:13 AM

Please note: It is early evening at the Inn - supper is being served.

Your posts need to reflect this.

Tinuviel of Denton

07-20-2003, 05:56 PM

"Scylla! i have a bone to pick with you! How dare you put me in that position!"

Niniel jumped, nearly dropping the plate which she had just been given. The source of the voice marched over to their table, gesticulating wildly. She briefly said hello to Niniel and Chrestienne, then resumed arguing with Scylla. Chrestienne smiled, then stood.

"I'm afraid that I must go. Shall I see you again when I return, Niniel?" she asked.

"I--I have n-no plans t-t-to leave," Niniel responded, a little out of sorts that Chrestienne was leaving. She had almost gotten comfortable with the other g.irl, and it would mean that she had to get comfortable with two more new people. Not that she disliked Scylla and Yebasian, she just didn't want to have to lead conversation and display her stutter.

She looked over at the table where sat Soronume and the lady-elf, fervently wishing that she dared leave this table and these loudly bantering cousins for his and his quiet acceptance of others. And him.

She shook her head at her folly and looked away, blushing. The cousins were still at it.

"Ex-excuse me," she softly interrupted. "Th-there is d-d-dinner being served. Do--do you w-want any, Y-Yebasian, Scylla?"

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

Esgallhugwen

07-20-2003, 06:32 PM

The lady sat in patience, sensing something was afoot but since it didn't concern her she pushed it out of her mind for the moment. She was very thirsty smelling the brew in the air. She didn't wish to call out to someone bringing them out of their way, there were others before her.

Some she thought to be other elves and a man with tattered clothes, along with Hobbits tending the inn guests. She stood up slowly and headed towards the counter to get a drink there.

Esgallhugwen

07-20-2003, 07:43 PM

She knocked on the counter 'hello is there any one back there that isn't busy and can serve me a drink??' she looked around and pulled up a wooden stool, lifting her cloak behind her to insure she didn't sit on it. Pale hands lying softly in her lap.

'Perhaps' she thought, although she wasn't too happy about the idea. 'Perhaps I should remove my hood, they may not wish to serve me if I choose to remain hidden and shadowed, they may want to see a face they can look upon, giving an ale to a shadow would be most odd wouldn't it?' She began to contemplate whether or not to remain the way she appeared and wait or to show herself to all those who resided in the inn.

Osse

07-21-2003, 04:18 AM

Peering over the rim of his earthern-ware tankard, Ferdibrand Brown of Waymeet found that the inn, which he had known since he was a lad, was full to the brim of the most outlandish folk he had ever laid eyes upon. A group of what he suspected were Dwarves were rourcously singing a drunken shanty in opposition to some fantastically tall and majectic looking strangers who were playing harps and lutes, creating a magnificent din which echoed profusely in the smoke-wreathed common room. "This lot." he said with a lopsided wave of his tankard indicating the Elves and Dwarves. "Are almost as bad as when Sharkey and his 'Men' took over." "Now you know i don't have anything against foreigners, some of me' best friends are foreigners, it's just that these particular foreigners aint' from 'round 'ere!" He stated matter-of-factly to his compatriot.
"Aye uncle. Just as you said last week and all."
"I was at the battle of Bywater I was! I was there...we gotta be careful lad. One or two dwarves now and then is nice and proper, if you can call that lot proper, but we ain't no bloody colony. We just want to be left in peace, don't we lad?" Merimac Brown nodded obediently.

There was a load crash, and the unmistakeable tinkle of breaking pottery. One of the dwarves had jumped onto a table and was doing a hearty jig to the accompany of his clapping comrades, in fact most heads in the inn had turned to watch the spectacle and many were clapping along. A fiddle was pulled out of a travel bag and one of the dwarves banged out a fast jig. The elvish piper started to toot again and soon most people were standing clapping or dancing along. Ferdibrand regretted to see that many of the dancing parties were indeed made up of hobbits, some of which he knew personally.

He lighted his long, clay pipe and began to noncholantly blow smoke rings up into the already smoke encircled rafters. "What of loyalty eh? Lad, go and pay the barmaid, I'll be outside getting the cart!"

And with that he strode through the jostling, dancing crowd and out into the summer night.

[ July 22, 2003: Message edited by: Osse ]

Dynaviir

07-21-2003, 09:43 AM

The door creaked open slowly. Two eyes peered around, taking in the warmth of the fire but feeling strangely out of place, as if the bearer felt he would rather be anywhere but near fire. Nontheless, he opened the door slowly, and with a last glance at his pony he stepped inside of the inn.

Dynaviir shifted his eyes around the room. He looked away from the fire, towards the many peoples and cultures before him. Hoping he could take refuge and disguise himself, he stepped away from the doorway, and closed the door behind him. He turned and stepped towards the far left corner of the room, trying to avoid attention. He knew his sword was out of place in it's sheath on his back, and did not yet know if he would have to part with it to stay in this strange inn. He walked far forwards and then stopped, looking down at one of the hobbits running past. The small people fascinated him. But none who were at level with his belt seemed to notice the leather or the hilt of his sword which were bound close to his robes.

He sat down in a dark corner away from flame. He wasn't sure if he wanted to converse on anything with anyone yet, but he knew he would need to at one point, and the inevitability seemed to appear more clearly on his mind. He sighed, and leaving his sickly green sack and his bag on the chair, he got up and walked towards the bar, eyeing his possessions as he went. He knew he may as well buy a drink, while he was here.

[ July 21, 2003: Message edited by: Dynaviir ]

[ July 21, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

piosenniel

07-21-2003, 10:46 AM

‘Wouldn’t you just know it!’ exclaimed Cook to Derufin, the stableman, as they made the rounds of the room, serving dinners to the hungry patrons. ‘Our busiest night in weeks and Miz Aman has gone off on some “errand”, or so she says.’ She poked the tall man in the side and laughed as they headed back to the kitchen. ‘If you ask me, she’s got someone she fancies and doesn’t want us to know about it.’ Cook stopped and looked round at the two newcomers at the bar counter. With a sigh, she handed her tray, now empty of the supper plates she had just served up, to Derufin and slipped behind the bar.

They were both shadowy figures, one a lady by the looks of her, with an Elven bow carried on her back and two of the palest hands she’d seen in a very long time. Still, she had her little pouch of coins in hand, and she was thirsty like any traveler in from the dusty road. Cook took her drink order, and bid her have a good evening. Watching her as she returned to her table in the corner, Cook tsk’d at the muddy boot prints trailing across the floor of the Common Room.

Next she turned to the tall fellow standing at the end of the counter. He seemed nervous about his bag and odd colored sack he’d left on his chair, and kept a wary eye on them. ‘Naught to worry about in here,’ she said to the back of his head as he glanced away once more. ‘Most folks are honest round these parts.’ He turned back to her and her attention was drawn to the blade he had strapped to his back. ‘Best be careful though with your sword in here. We don’t tolerate fights or swordplay, so just keep it sheathed and you can keep it on you.’ Her hand, hidden below the counter, fingered the stout blackthorn club there, just in case he took offense at her words.

His hands stayed on the counter, and she relaxed as he ordered his drink. ‘Interesting,’ Cook thought to herself, ‘there goes another one off into a dark corner.’ She shook her head and looked at the small cheery blaze in the fireplace. ‘Why is it that Big Folk so often carry such darkness inside them?’ She shook off the gloomy thoughts, and looked up toward the door just as one of the locals was slipping toward the door.

Grabbing one of the slips pinned behind the counter, she moved quickly to intercept him, putting her hand on his shoulder just as he pushed open the door.

‘Merimac Brown!” she said, halting him, her eyes sweeping out to the yard to catch a glimpse of his uncle, Ferdibrand. She held up the slip of paper so that both of them could see it. ‘It’s about your bill here. It’s almost the end of the month - we need to come to some agreement on settling it . . .’ She looked at their cart with a certain glint in her eye, wondering what goods they might have brought into Bywater to sell or trade. The Browns had a reputation for some of the finest smoked hams in the Westfarthing. ‘Perhaps I can wrangle one for the Inn’s kitchen,’ she thought to herself . . .

Dynaviir

07-21-2003, 11:28 AM

Dyanviir sat alone in the corner, watching closely and warily. He could tell the people of this land were kind and honest, as he had seen at the bar, but he was glad to keep his sword. It was rather hard for him to feel entirely relaxed, despite the merry folk around him.

He sipped his drink and thought it tasted sweet. It seemed to warm him, even though he hid from the warmth many others loved. Indeed, he had tasted finer ale in Bree, but he did not care as this was a merrier and safer inn than any he had seen there.

He took off his cloak and set it next to his sack. Underneath it were light shades of yellow, green and brown, well worn and torn but light and faithful - indeed he would not part with them for the fairest of elven cloth. They seemed to be unfamiliar to anyone who glanced at them, but fair and natural, as if something no city of men would, or indeed could, have woven. Beneath them he hid a light metal vest, but it did not slow his movements.

Around his neck he wore, from a golden chain, a pearl, pink, embedded in a golden locket. It was no bigger than a large grape, halfed from top to end and covered in soft, swirling white patterns. It did not seem to belong to any culture. It was not light, but it was not dark. It was soft and fair but somehow not desirable. He hid it beneath the first of his many layers of garments.

Suddenly he glanced up. He noticed now for the first time the elven bow the woman at the bar wore. He thought to himself, curious as to how many armed people were in the Shire. He eyed it for a moment, admiring the craftsmanship he recognised, a kind of which not even his father could have ever made, and then cast his gaze elsewhere.

He finished his drink and looked down at the table. He knew he had been taking his thoughts too seriously, and that no real danger could be found in this bar. Yes, there were a few armed, but there were many more not so, and he knew there was a peace loving feeling the guests seemed to share between one another. He sighed, and put down his glass. He picked up his bag and hung it on his back, and then lifted his sack and cloak and carried them over his shoulder. He knew he would need a room.

[ July 21, 2003: Message edited by: Dynaviir ]

Carrûn

07-21-2003, 02:52 PM

Awyrgan reentered the Inn from the sidedoor leading to the stable. He was rubbing a sizeable lump on his head.

Earlier in the day he had caught the handy-man Derufin in a rare moment of inactivity and explained his situation and agreement with Aman to the man. Derufin had put him to work patching a few of the troublesome holes that kept re-appearing in the stable roof. They seemed to especially irk the handyman for one reason or another and after a hot afternoon of working on them Awyrgan was beginning to harbor similiar feelings towards the roof.

His repair work had started off well enough, he had always enjoyed heights and felt right at home even in a fairly precarious perch. The first several holes were a simple matter of removing the old covering and nailing down new material. Then one of the holes proved to be more of a challenge.

Assuming that it was the same as all the others he had just patched Awrygan had moved right up next to it, only to discover a wide radius of rotted timber that quickly gave way.

When he woke up the man found himself lying not so comfortably in the stable loft that had broken his fall. Cursing, glanced up to notice the now very large hole in the ceiling above him.

It had taken him the better part of the afternoon to fix the last of the holes and the Sun seemed to enjoy increasing its heat to the maximum possible extent as he did so.

Thus, the Awyrgan that entered the Inn in the early evening was an especially malcontent one.

He passed by Cook and Derufin on his way to a nearby table, he nodded and spoke shortly. "Holes are all patched. Should of warned me about the one." He grinned, rubbing his head.

Sitting down, he asked a server to bring him "a lot of whatever Cook was offering" and waited.

Esgallhugwen

07-21-2003, 06:49 PM

The lady sipped lightly on the drink noticing the gaze of another who also sought secrecy and sanctuary in this place. She undid her bow from her back but kept it close by her side it had too much sentimental value... too many memories of things now past and gone. The hobbit woman who tended her at the bar now chased down another who tried to sneak out, shaking a piece of paper at him.

She thought it quite amusing pushing the dark thoughts out of her mind, trying to take in the goodness of the little folk. Her eyes strayed over to the man in the other corner, his sword had a great might within it.

But she couldn't help notice there was a darkness in him much like herself yet she knew him not. He stood up taking his pack with him, perhaps to inquire about a room.

She too needed one but stayed awhile at the table giving the man his space, not intending to give false ideas of being his shadow and lingering about. If they met again or spoke for whatever reason it perhaps was intended to be.

She pushed the empty mug aside, thinking she should now tend to Morsereg her black Elvish stallion.

Dynaviir

07-22-2003, 01:01 AM

As he walked up to his new room, guided by a small hobbit (small even for hobbit-size), Dynaviir felt for the first time a bit too tall. He knew the inn had been built for hobbits, and that men from the East and South hadn't been expected when it was built. He turned a corner and stood in front of a small door. The hobbit opened the door, being in the way of the man, and turned to him and bowed low, bidding him farewell, then hurried off again, pushing himself close to the wall to make it past. He tried desperately not to show discomfort, and as he made it past he bowed low again, then scuttled off down the hall. Dynaviir stood watching him as he ran of, with a hint of a smile on his face, and then turned the handle and walked inside.

The room was larger than he had expected from the outside. It was a small room, with a fireplace facing the bed and many lamps scattered around, but it was as big as he could have hoped for and it felt comforting. It was filled with many strange artifacts, and he wondered if the guests before him had left gifts to entertain their successors in the room. The room itself was dressed in many colours, from the soft yellow on the walls to the strong and keen red of the carpet; the room seemed inviting, unlike any place he had seen in this homely place. The Shire held many great things, but up here he felt safe, as if the room itself was calling to him and willing him to stay.

He set down his cloak and bag on a stool to the right of the doorway. For the first time he closed the door behind him and found even the handle was warm. The room was free from dust and well kept. He glanced over at the fireplace and saw gladly no hint of red ember. Despite this, he knew he would need to light a fire tonight. The journey had made him cold and the ale had only warmed his heart, but he had ignored the fire below and hoped to find comfort elsewhere. Luckily the fireplace was small - to hobbit size - which was just fine for him.

Slowly he placed the sack down at the end of his bed. He turned to the mirror on his right and looked himself in the eye. Beneath his neck something seemed to bulge from his neck, but as he shifted his robes with his right hand it was gone again. He turned away, hoping the memory would stay out of sight. He turned now back again to go downstairs. He now felt hungry like he hadn't felt in a long time. He walked back downstairs, without removing the sheath from his belt.

Elora

07-22-2003, 02:30 AM

Vanwe awoke with a start, realising that she had slept far too long indeed. She gathered her buckets and headed back to the horse pasture nearby. With night falling, she needed to get the horses in. Guiltily, she began the process of returning horses and ponies to their stalls in the stable, dreading bumping into Aman, Cook or Derufin and having to explain her whereabouts all day.

The sky had not completely darknened, but it was late. Had they seen her sleeping when she should have been working? Vanwe bustled through her work now, remorseful and guilty. Transfer the horses, place blankets over them after rubbing them down. Fresh feed, grain and water for the night. Clean out the grain and fodder troughs at the corral. Vanwe completed it all as though someone with a whole whip stood over her shoulder. She lit the lantern that Derufin kept at the back of the stables for the evening and made sure she had not forgotten anything.

As she surveyed the horses, her gaze snagged on Kaldir's. He'd not been seen all day since she found Lespheria that morning. She needed to check up on Lespheria, but Vanwe was not entirely willing to march back up to face Amandur's difficult questions just yet. Her hair was wild, there was dirt on her hands, face and dress, and besides that Cook and the others who would also want answers were likely inside.

No, not just yet. Vanwe decided that she needed to wash up first. She took one bucket to the well, partially filled it with water and returned to the stables. She climbed into the loft nimbly, despite her burden, and poured water into a bowl that stood on her dresser after lighting the candle she had taken from the stores the night before.

Pre-occupied with cleaning up, Vanwe did not notice at first the clear evidence that someone had been in the loft. It wasn't until she had pushed open the hay doors so that she could see the sky, and the Watcher as Silvanis had named that star, and turned back that she realised her loft had had a visitor. Whoever it was had tried to tidy up. It looked like they had been on her bed, though. The blanket was slightly rumpled there. Vanwe saw wood shavings swept against the sloping roof nearby on closer inspection. Had someone been in her loft, working on wood?

She looked up at the roof and made out recent work on the holes that she had been using to watch the sky through. Perhaps Derufin had patched the holes, Vanwe thought. Speaking of holes, she really needed to do something about the new hole in her dress that had appeared when one of the horses had tried in ingest part of her skirt.

Vanwe pulled her dress over her head and wrapped the blanket from her bed around her shoulders. She sat by the candle, found her needle and waning supply of cotton, and set to work patching. It would not be easy. The material was so worn it was starting to unweave itself, as if the threads were too tired to hold together anymore. Her hair, no longer tangled, fell smoothly down her back over the blanket that was draped around her shoulders, and her eyes were trained on her needle as she made it dance to patch yet another hole.

Naiore, who had sat in the trees all day cursed Kaldir for his wariness and herself for her overeagerness. Perhaps he had sensed her. She moved with caution, confidence held in check until she could get a better view of the stable. Vanwe could be glimpsed in the loft through the open doors, candle light soft on her bent head and giving her a golden cast that belied the grey horse blanket her daughter had chosen to wear. The girl was a beggar, Naiore thought, but still was too much of a threat. If someone, anyone, showed her just what lay within her Vanwe could bring her lifelong work to an end. This was why she watched, and this was why she held back for another threat could also undo her. Kaldir, wherever he was, was proving to be as cagey as wolf. But she could outwait him.

Let him move, and she would have them both where she wanted them. She could wait. Vanwe's needle rose and fell, dipped and swooped, as candlelight flickered over her.

Ealasaid

07-22-2003, 10:44 AM

It was getting on into evening when Kaldir decided to abandon the stand of trees outside the Green Dragon in favor of some food and a tankard of beer. Vanwe, he knew, was out in the stables again, attending to her duties with the horses and other related chores. She would not be going far. The entity he had sensed among the trees, watching him and Vanwe, was still there. He could sense his or her presence, lingering and watching. He planned to wait until daylight came again before turning his attention back in that direction. It was not something he intended to ignore. Nor was it something he wanted to deal with in the fast encroaching darkness.

In the meantime, he had his own needs to attend to, not to mention the needs of his prisoner, Benia Nightshade, whom he had left, bound, in the dark cellar of a deserted blacksmith’s shop several blocks from the inn. When he took her there, his intention had been to kill her, but, something about the look of her had stayed his hand. In a strange way, he felt drawn to her, as though she had something to do with him on a fundamental level. He didn’t know what that was just yet, but whatever it was, it was enough to make him hesitate to destroy her simply for a bounty. Since he wasn’t going to kill her just yet, he decided, the least he could do would be to bring her some food.

Ever mindful of the Watcher in the Woods, he moved cautiously out of the trees and back toward the inn. As he returned to the common room, he glanced around for Benia’s hobbit friend Gilly. As he did so, it occurred to him that no one seemed to know that Miss Nightshade had gone missing. Surely Gilly had noticed. Yet, she did not seem to have sounded any kind of alarm. Business went on as usual in the busy common room. Supper was being served and an air of peace and contentment filled the atmosphere. Gilly, herself, was nowhere to be seen. Kaldir made a mental note of it. As she and Benia seemed close, he was sure that she was not far away. But doing what? He had seen her come out of the stables earlier, looking a little the worse for wear and heading for the inn, but he had not seen her since. Mentally, he put Gilly on the back burner. She was not of that great concern to him, but could prove to be a bit of a nuisance. He would keep an eye out for her, but that would be all.

Bypassing the common room, he went directly to the kitchen, where he caught the attention of the cook. There he ordered two dinners, packed to be eaten elsewhere. Once he had collected the food and paid for it, he stepped back out into the inn yard. Looking toward the stable, he could see Lespheria and her Ranger friend through the window. Glad to see that Lespheria was none the worse for wear after her earlier fall from her horse, he turned his attention briefly toward her friend. A familiar face, he wondered if he might have known him at one time, in the Ranger camps of his youth and young adulthood before the war. He and Lespheria’s friend were of a similar age, but Kaldir’s memories were not always clear regarding anything that had happened prior to the War of the Ring. Perhaps if he knew the man’s name…

Anyway, it was of little importance right at the moment. His prisoner had not eaten in close to twenty-four hours. He should make haste. While he was not above killing her, he refused to stoop to torture or starvation. As long as she was in his charge, and until he had decided what to do with her, she would be cared for.

Dynaviir

07-22-2003, 12:19 PM

Dynaviir sat back down at the table in the corner again. So many faces went by; not one familiar. He felt strangely alone, and knew he would do for some time. Until he had seen his pony, Doienwei, anyway. He wondered if she had enough food, and if she was at peace. He oft wondered of her, when he had no other people to turn. But she was loyal and faithful, and the two of them had each other, and together they did not feel lonely. Dynaviir doubted he would be able to sleep in her stable, and that by the same token Doienwie would not be permitted to sleep in his own room. Probably just as well, he supposed, he didn't want to put her through the torment of watching her master grieving by the fire.

The minutes went by, and Dynaviir felt tired. He couldn't bring himself to finish his meal; as delicious as it was, and as hungry as he felt. Something bothered him at the back of his mind, but he did not know what yet. Slowly he stood up, and so not to be inpolite, took his meal to the bar and apologised for wasting such a delightful meal.

He took a seat at the bar, and sat. He didn't know what it was he wanted. In fact, he didn't even know why he was here himself. To get away from battle, he knew, but still, inevitably he would soon return to the lands beyond, back to the South East - to the lands near Gondor, where his home lay. But even still, he had no purpose to return to the Gondor plains, other than loyalty and a sense of devotion. Even though he had come as far as he knew he could find, Hobbiton offered little more homelyness for him, and in fact felt less so, as much was new and unfamiliar to him.

He sat at the bar, and looked at the ground. He supposed he should go and find Doinwei, and talk to her as he oft did when there was no one near. She understood him as clearly as any man well-learned of the common-speech, but of course could not answer. Dynaviir wondered what she would say if she could. He drew his gaze upwards, and looked around.

Still, he felt oddly alone. And he knew he should at least talk to someone other than the bar-maids, knowing he needed a tale he had not heard, and wondered who would give it to him.