[Bêthberry]

Bethberry finished composing the order for the new banner to be placed in the rafters of The White Horse, the banner for the Barrow-Wight's new game, My Crow Management. For someone whose habitually chilly fictional persona often created fear, the Wight certainly had created an enticing, clever game which even in its early stages had already won great renown and interest and set such a good standard for Rohan. His persona was nothing to take lightly, but he was so capable of wit, imagination, and creativity, and had faithfully built and tended such a resplendent Barrow where many could store their treasures, that she could not help but admire his work. Perhaps he would return for a chilled brew, iced cappuchino, or frosted cake.

Returning to her task, Bethberry made note of all the banners for The White Horse:

Blue Sky, Night Thunder: a jewel in form of a white polyhedron on a blue background

My Crow Management : a black crow lined with white, in silhouette against a red background

Reawakened Mordor: a yellow slash lined with red, on a black background

Rohan : a white horse, in silhouette on a green background

The Blue Mountains: a mountain peak in blue, in silhouette against a green background

The Whistling Fairy: a green fairy in silhouette against a yellow background

Very handsome they were, and Bethberry looked forward to many more banners now that the Rohan RPG Proposal Form was available for all to use in the revised rules of The Golden Hall. She hoped all would read the revised rules, and particularly take note of the request to disable personal signatures and refrain from using smilies in games and The White Horse, in the interest of readability.

A noise at the entrance and a new arrival caught Bethberry's ear. She rose and went to the door, greeting a tired looking soul with a heavy pack on his back. From the shape and size of one of his bags, which he carried with some care, he appeared to be a swordsmith.

"Good sir, you look in need of a sheltering, hospitable establishment were word, wit and challenge reward imagination. Come, let me call the cook to bring you a dinner, on the house, and introduce you to other patrons here. I believe that several here might be in need of your wares."

Bethberry gently led the newcomer into the Great Hall, to meet Estelarion, Menelduliniel and Parin, who perhaps were collaborating on a game. They spoke some brief pleasantries, and then met Master Dadrantar, Galadel, Mariah, Amanaduial the Archer (who was carefully tending to her wolves, that they be on best behaviour), who might also be in the midst of creative fervour.

There were other quests, busy about their dinners, who the newcomer also acknowledged with a weary nod of his head. Mainly he was hungry and gratefully turned to the dinner which Fróma placed before him, but his eyes suggested he looked forward to discussion once his belly was full.

* * * * * * *

Ælfritha caught the words of an old rhyme which this newcomer recited, horse and rider immediately. Her curiousity peeked, she rose from her dinner and diffidence to inquire a few things of him.

"Anglachel, I believe I heard is your name, is it not, Merchant?"

He nodded yes, and rose to great the Rohirrim woman who spoke to him, offering her a chair by his table.

She bit her lip in shyness, and hesitated slightly, but then took the seat.

"You sing of the Mark and its history. Would you by any chance be a merchant of horse wares? Saddles, bits, blankets? My family runs a ranch--we are well-known horse breeders in these parts--and perhaps you have something we might be interested in? You, perhaps, might find some use in knowing of those who we deal with?"

She looked at him directly, now. When doing business, Ælfritha lost her timidity.

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