The Green Dragon Inn - Part 10

[piosenniel]

GREEN DRAGON INN FACTS:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Other ongoing characters in the Inn:

Ruby Brown, Hobbit – not married – server and maid

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

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Ongoing characters from outside the Inn:

Halfred Whitfoot – local Shiriff from Bywater and Postmaster for this area of the Shire; his pony’s name is Dumpling.

Fredgar Hornblower – local Shiriff from Hobbiton – played by Fool of a Took
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Please Note:

No 'SAVES' are allowed in the Inn.

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

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

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

Please be familiar with the rules for the Inn and Games in The Red Book of Westmarch, the first topic in the Shire.
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IT IS NOW LATE AFTERNOON. THE WEATHER IS PLEASANT.

THE INN IS ALL BACK TOGETHER AFTER THE FIRE.

A PARTY HAS JUST BEGUN - PLENTY OF FOOD, DRINK, MUSIC, DANCING!

[Witch_Queen]

Aduthondiel
She was relieved to finally see that Hama was ok. Though she could tell that the news had shocked him she wasn't suprised. She turned to Crystal and thought about whether or not she should leave the Shire. "Perhaps I will stay a bit longer. I'm sure if I send Count back with a letter requiring Dorians position I might just get it. That is if no one else has found the right to claim it."

Adu felt that a bit of pressure had been lifted off of her shoulders. Dorian was dead and everything was better. She had finally found friends that she could talk to about anything. Crystal seemed like a daughter to her now. It was her duty to protect her and see that no harm came to her. "That is unless our dear Hama wishes to have the title of being General."

[Crystal Heart]

Crystal smiled.

"Hama would make a great general. So would you Adu. Either of you would be a fine replacement," Crystal said as she smiled.

When she had come back into the Inn she had no idea that this would happen. She hadn't allowed herself to believe that she would be alright in the end. She hadn't allowed herself to think that this could turn out any differently then she had figured it would. She had always figured that he would eventually catch her, beat her, and destroy everything she had worked so hard to no longer have. Mainly memories of him and her past. Now she was able to be herself, beyond his heinous ways. She could be the person she had borned to be. It was a reassuring fact.

[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman opened her mouth to reply, when a resounding crash of breaking glass made her half duck, memories of windows smashed with lungs of fire making her eyes wide and scared. Running back into the main part of the Common Room, she looked around to see several other party goers as shocked as herself, at least two of them Gondorian, and a look of understanding passed between Aman and Crystal. But in those first moments, Aman realised two things. First, that the crash must have been from the cellar, for at that volume it must have been on the ground floor and there was no sign in the Common Room.

Secondly, that Snaveling was no longer at the bar.

Darting quickly to the cellar steps, Aman lifted her skirts slightly and descended hastily. A few metres from the bottom steps there lay a small, upturned table...and the fragmented, broken remains of half a dozen fine bottles of red wine, brought by Master Merry and ready to be served later. Aman stepped carefully over the crimson fingers of wine that reached from the shattered pile, her knuckles white as they gripped her skirt. She knew, of course, who had done it: Snaveling.

Spiteful drow of a man! she thought furiously, her jaw tightening as several choice curses flew into her head. Spiteful, darksome, acrimonious, immoral, nefarious little...

"Mistress Innkeeper, what on earth has happened?" A shocked hobbit boy's voice disturbed the Innkeeper midflow.

The furious Rohirrim woman looked up slowly at him, years of warrior breeding burning in her green eyes as her nails dug into her palms, although she barely noticed, and none but the closest of the spectators gathered at the door could see the effect of her anger in the gloom. And very slowly, she smiled, a chilly, careful smile. When she spoke, her voice was perfectly pleasant, even and calm.

"Please could I ask you all to look out for a certain individual on the premises - a man, of dark countenance, secretive looking maybe. Possibly he may be in the company of a hobbit, Tobias Hornblower, although Tobias and myself have no quarrel. The man's name is...Snaveling." The last word was disdainful: if Snaveling wished to be treated so, he would get what he wished for.

"Why is it that you need to find him, Aman?" an old hobbit woman asked, inquisitive and thirsty for gossip. Aman looked at her, bright-eyed. So Snaveling had chosen to quarrel with the Innkeeper of the Green Dragon Inn...at her feet, the wine lapped just below her skirt.

"I think myself and master Snaveling need to talk," she replied.

[Galadel Vinorel]

The loud crash of wine bottles echoed in the elf's sharp ears. Few merrygoers heard the noise, yet a few seconds later Galadel saw Aman quickly rush into the main room. Oh no, Snaveling, Galadel thought to herself, You cannot allow your anger to overcome you in such a hideous way. As the elf sat watching the scene unfold she saw Aman quickly dissapear down the hall to the cellar. A few seconds later Snaveling appeared in the main room once more by a different way, his coat looking rather bulgy around the stomach at the moment. The man of the south then began to make his way towards were Tobias sat talking with a hobbit lass.

Expressing her apologies to Roa, Galadel quickly stood up from her table and made her way silently to Snaveling. As she drew in front of him, the man suddenly stopped and looked into her eyes, which were now brimming with red, as anger boiled in her heart. Yet the man was too drunk to realize that that look was very dangerous, and he tried to push past her, yet she moved in his way.

"Move oout of my way, elf. You have no right to hinder me," Snaveling said angrily, his speech slightly slurred.

"No, Snaveling. I will not let you make this mistake. It will cause you more harm than you could ever imagine," Galadel said forcefully, desperately trying to control her anger, "I want you to return the bottle of liquor to Miss Aman and apologize to her for breaking her bottles of wine."

"Why should I? You cannot tell me what I should and should not do. Not, step out of my way!" said the man of the south fiercely, trying once again to push by the maiden. Yet, once again, she held him back. Many of the partiers turned to look at the two, for Snaveling's previous words had been rather loud.

"Snaveling, please listen to me," Galadel said softly, a hint of sadness in her voice, "If you do not do as I say, everything that you have gained in the past few weeks will once again be lost to you and your dreams will fade. I promise you that if you go through with your plan Roa will never speak with you again. Is that what you wish to happen? Is it?"

Galadel turned slightly sideways and looked across the room. Snaveling followed her steady gaze. There, all alone at a table sat Roa. She was looking at them, her eyes wide, wondering what was going on and what they were saying. The memory of his dreams came back to Snaveling as he thought over all that had happened over the last few weeks.

Finally he heard Galadel's voice in his ear once more. "You better make your chose quickly, Snaveling, for here they come for you."

Snaveling looked towards the door where a hobbit boy stood scanning the room, seraching for someone in particular. So, the man of the south thought, and then knew what his chose would be.

[Hama Of The Riddermark]

Hama looked slightly grim. "Adu...If you will, it would most likely be better if it was I who attempted to petition Eomer as I served with him for many years. If my petition succeeds I will be back within a week, after making necessary adjustments such as lifting the death warrant on Crystal." Crystal looked shocked behind his back, but Hama didn't see.

"I can almost guarrantee there will be a breakaway movement still loyal to Dorian's ideals. However I will do my best to quell it." Adu nodded slowly. "Yes, you are right. A human soldier who has fought in many battles with Eomer most likely will have a chance of succeeding the petition..." Hama looked at her. "On my return, Adu, I will make you my right hand." Adu smiled gently.

"Go, Hama. Return soon, with good tidings, a general's livery and several bodyguards!" Hama smiled and turned. He said audibly, "I'll be back in a week if all goes well..." before striding out of the inn and mounting his horse. Crystal and Adu listened to the clip-clop of the hooves receeding down the path...

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

Curse her! Snaveling swore inwardly. Her and all the others like her who won’t let a man have his own way in peace! He glared up at Galadel through his drink-soaked eyes, hearing only a few of her words above the roar that the brandy had set off in his ears. He tried to force his way past her to where Toby sat, sure that in his friend there would be at least one person who would not judge him and hate him and spit upon him for being what and who he was. The Elf woman was much stronger than he had anticipated, however, and easily prevented him from moving forward. So enraged did he become with her that he began to contemplate another use for the bottle beneath his tunic, but his violent hand was stilled by a single sentence of Galadel’s that came to him clear through the fogs of rage, shame, confusion and drink: I promise you that if you go through with your plan Roa will never speak with you again.

His heart lurched at the thought and his gorge rose. Forgetting that he had stolen the brandy he pulled it out from beneath his clothes and took another long pull from it to quell his stomach. The liquor burned through his pain and tore a hole in his rage, letting out a pathetic sob of drunken misery. He lurched forward and caught himself on a table, dropping the bottle with such a crash that for a moment the room stilled and turned its attention toward him. As before, when he was singing, the eyes bore into him with a hateful mixture of apathy, amusement and dislike. This time, however, he could feel the resentment and disdain of the people about him like a thick cloak of treacle, and he could smell their hatred like the vile smoke of a funeral pyre. He raised his eyes toward Galadel and saw coming up behind her the small hobbit lad who had spotted him from the door. Aman then swam into view at the bar. Her eyes stabbed him like daggers and Snaveling knew that there was a reckoning to be had more dear than he was perhaps able to pay.

“Galadel,” he gasped, his voice still bitter and stinging. He was in a mood to hurt, and he flung his words at the Elf as though they were stones. “Why are you always whispering in my ear that my happiness is to be lost? Why cannot you just leave me alone?”

Galadel sighed. “It is not I who besets you, Man of the South. It is yourself. I only offer you my help in the battle that you must continually wage against your greatest enemy.”

“And who would that be?” he mocked. “How am I to tell who is my greatest enemy, when I am surrounded by those who hate me,” he looked at Aman, “or who regret that they ever pretended to befriend me!?” and he glared at Roa.

“Snaveling!” Galadel’s tone staggered him like a slap. “There is very little time. You must choose, now, what your path in life will be. Once before you confessed to a crime – remember the benefits of that! This time you must not just confess but seek to make amends to the one you have harmed.”

The hobbit lad stood before Snaveling. Looking up into the eyes of the much taller Man he said in an important tone, “Miss Aman wants to speak with you!”

Snaveling looked at Galadel and pulled himself erect. Squaring his shoulders against the drink and the emotional storm that wracked his frame, he met Aman’s eyes from across the room and said, “Yes, I imagine that she does. I believe I owe her the cost of a half dozen bottles of wine and a bottle of brandy.”

[Eowyn Skywalker]

Willow grimaced as she heard the sound of breaking glass. She held her fiddle all the tighter all of a sudden.

Aman had dashed off, and she didn't blame her. She knew what it was like when someone got drunk, or what not.

Willow flinched, and wondered if it was that dark man, and if it was her fault. She had, after all, called Aman away from him, even though the Rohan innkeeper had seemed somewhat relieved to be called away.

She drank her water down fast, and stepped out of the shadow of the corridor, and into the common room, though the slightly shy hobbit maiden still stayed on the edge of the room.

It seemed indeed to have been the dark man, but Willow knew that it was not her business.

She slipped back out the door to the halls, and breathed out sharply. She hoped that nothing would come of this.

But she couldn't rid her mind of her dark thoughts about her past.

So she picked up her fiddle, and began to play softly in the corridor.

[Witch_Queen]

Aduthondiel
She was sad to see Hama go but the fact that upon his return Adu would become Hama's right hand person sounded good to her. She wanted to cry because he was leaving but she couldn't bring herself to it. "Crystal, Hama will succeed. I just know it, I can feel it deep down inside. Now I don't have to leave this place. I can stay and watch after you and Mr. Angry. That is if you will allow me to." She had never felt wanted in her life and for a chance she didn't want to feel that way again. Dorian was dead and the only thing she hoped that would become of his death was the fact that Crystal would be able to come out of hiding and she herself would be set free from Dorian's hold on her life.

As much as Adu didn't want to face the fact that freedom had already came to her, she couldn't see herself living a free life. Adu would always be a victim to Dorian's torment and torturess reign in Middle Earth. "Perhaps some day I will be able to see the marriage that has been in progress for the longest time. Crystal allow me to stay here and protect your life until Hama returns with the station of General of Rohan?" Adu opened the door to the inn so that the two could join the rest of the party. Everything was better now that she had nothing to worry about. Hama was going to become General, Crystal would go on with her life, and Adu wasn't sure what would become of her in the near future.

[Esgallhugwen]

As Aldor was about to answer a loud resounding crash silenced the whole Inn, it was none of his business so he carried on with the conversation. "I have not been traveling for as long as you master Dwarf, for about two or so years now, and I too also go home from time to time, to check on my family. My mother worries sometimes you see, especially since I travel alone except for Nessa my chesnut mare she is very much a friend to me".

He took another gulp of cool ale which was very refreshing in the evening. "But I'm very glad to have found some friends today, it can be tiresome to walk the road alone and come to a stop but still finding no one to talk to".

[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman watched, arms crossed forebodingly, as Snaveling rose unsteadily and stumbled from his chair, knocking it over and colliding with that elf, Galadel, as he did so. Aman's anger rose slightly even more. So he would even assault the other customers in my Inn directly! she thought furiously. But Galadel did not seem to mind - she actually took his arm as he slipped, steadying him as he found his feet. As he began to weave erratically towards her, Snaveling's eyes met the Innkeeper's, and she raised her chin to face him. Although she would not to admit it, there was something about this creeping, skulking dark man that scared her...

"Aman...Am...Aman..." Snaveling seemed to be having difficuly speaking as he came to face her, and the Innkeeper realised it was not only the drink which was causing problems, and although his eyes darted away from hers, she could see something else there behind the drink. Turning, she relayed her orders like a general.

"Buttercup, please could you fetch this man a glass of water and bring it to us in my parlour. Let you three servers take charge of the festivities." She turned to the rest of the Common Room at large and smiled. "In the spirit of the party, all drinks from now on shall be on the house! May the food and drink flow freely!"

If there is one thing that makes people, especially the good folk of the Shire, forget their misgivings faster than anything else, it is free food. Good natured murmuring resumed around the room as people turned back to their conversations and there was a sudden rush towards a surprised-looking Ruby behind the bar. Her voice covered by to all others by the amiable chatter, Aman spoke softly to the drunken, sorry-looking individual in front of her. "Snaveling, I wish to have a word with you in which I think you must make a few...decisions."

The man gave his familiar sneer and pulled his arm from Aman's grasp, turning away, but he stopped halfway as if a memory made suddenly tangible held him back. He sagged slightly and turned back. "Lead on, Mistress Rohan," he said, but the spite in the words was too half-hearted for Aman to take any offence. Galadel moved forward to come as well, but Aman shook her head. Usually she wouldn't be as naive to go into a room alone with a drunken man, but Snaveling seemed suddenly limp and half hearted. "Mistress Galadel, I need to speak alone with him for a few moments."

The elf held Aman's gaze with her wise, ancient one, then nodded. Aman smiled, inclining her head, then turned to lead Snaveling to her private parlour. Opening the door to him, Aman followed, then shut the door, shutting out the noise of the busy Inn at the same time. Turning to Snaveling, who had a look in his eyes like a trapped rat, she motioned for him to sit down and seated herself in one of the two armchairs by the fire and began.

"Snaveling, since you came to the Inn I must admit I have had a few doubts. At the very beginning there was some strange news that you tried to trap a woman inside the cellar when the Inn was on fire, which would have been something very like murder. But," she held up a hand as he started to rise angrily then continued. "But I have never really been one to believe gossip. However, will you deny that it was you knocked over the wine?"

A sullen shake of the head.

"And you did it deliberately?"

The man hesitated, then nodded. Aman was slightly surprised - she had not expected him to admit it, and it changed her opinion of him very slightly. When she had seen the shattered wine bottles and their spilt contents, the Innkeeper had had every intention of banning the man from the Green Dragon for the rest of eternity. This coming forward and now admitting his crime made things rather more complicated and spoke of something other than common roguery. She sighed and sat back, looking up at him.

"Snaveling, I have never yet banned anyone from this Inn, but the unpleasantness you showed by that action..." she paused, contemplating him, then sat forward. "Here is the deal, sir. Much as you may think it, I do not hate you - I don't know you, and unfortunately for you, all I have really seen of you first hand is what you did this afternoon. But I know that you worked on the rebuilding of the Inn, and by coming forward, you have showed some further merit and I shall reward it; I will not ban you from the Green Dragon and neither will I take from you your lodgings here. However, payment must be given - can you pay in money for what you...destroyed?" She eyed the bottle of brandy the man still gripped as she said the last word, then moved her green eyes up to meet his dark gaze.

[Kitanna]

"Yes, that's the curse of the traveller." Deva said, "On the road for the weeks at a time and even in a crowded inn no one to talk to." He smiled and took a sip of his ale. "Well, I'm off to let you two enjoy the evening and I'll find my own companion." He bowed slightly to Aldor and Peony as he rose and disappeared into the crowds.

"When he says find a companion it really means he's going to find a pint." Peony remarked, "Hard working as any, but he can be one heavy drinker."

Check your PM's please.

~*~ Piosenniel, Shire Moderator

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

The bottle hung in his hand like the body of a dead thing. Snaveling raised it to his lips, but the smell of the liquor nauseated him and he set it aside on the low table that stood by the chair. He glared at the floor and thought for so long that Aman began to think that he had passed out from the drink. Quietly, he spoke, as though to himself but just loud enough that the Innkeeper could hear every word.

“I do not have any money to pay for what I’ve stolen. I cannot redeem myself of this crime. Ha! Redeem myself? Is such a thing possible? Galadel would say so, but I do not know why. Tobias is certain that I am a good fellow and one worthy of his friendship, but he is a fool – a simple-minded fool like all the denizens of this little land. As for Roa. . .there was a time, perhaps, when she thought me worth some effort, but now she will not entertain any such impulse, unless it be to see me strung up by the neck in the eyes of her King. Her precious King! She says that he will see justice done for me, but what justice is there for me but death? I’m a thief, and a liar and a sneak. You’ve heard rumours, you say? Well, they’re all true. I did try to murder Roa. I left her in the cellar to burn and I didn’t care. That’s the kind of Man I am. Do you know that the first thing I did when I arrived at this blasted Inn was to steal some food from the kitchen and set fire to the woods about it? I wanted only for it to burn – to burn to the ground with everyone in it so I could pick through the bones looking for trinkets. But that plan was ruined, just as they always are. I tried to steal some gold, but Roa did something to me that made it impossible for me to keep it. I was tortured for weeks in ways that you cannot imagine and which make my very blood freeze to recall. So that plan, too, was ruined. Always things are ruined. My plans, my life…

“My life… I have wandered the Wilds looking only for a place where I could live my life alone and unfettered by the demands of others. Do you know the torments I have suffered, the empty waste miles I have crossed with nothing but a cold word and a closed door to keep me for the night? Do you know what it’s like to leave your people for so long that you pass through the longing to return, and find only on the other side the empty grey feeling that you no longer care to return? Have you even been homeless Mistress Rohan? I don’t mean between homes, or not at home, or away from home – but truly homeless? Having nowhere to call your own. Nowhere to lay your head. Nowhere to imagine in the lonely nights when you are the only creature in the universe who cares whether you live or die?

“I know what that is like. I have known for so long that it has become a part of me. Sometimes I fear that it has become the whole of me. I’ve forgotten so much in the years that I’ve wandered, that just about the only thing I could remember was that I had nowhere to call my own. It became a kind of comfort to me – for the man who has nothing, there is nothing that can be taken away. A man with no home can never be exiled.

“At least, that’s the way it’s been for me for years. That’s the way I’ve come to expect my life to continue and end. But when you threatened me just now with being sent away from the Inn…my heart almost stopped. It’s a kind of pain that I’ve not felt in so long that I no longer have a name for it. It’s a kind of pain that cuts so close to the bone that it’s almost a kind of pleasure. I don’t want to leave this place. I want to stay.” For the first time since he’d started talking he looked up and met Aman’s eyes. The despair that she saw there was enough to wring her own heart. He was drunk, yes, but it was not the liquor that spoke now, it was some part of Snaveling that had not seen the light in far too many years. “I cannot pay for the wine I have destroyed. I cannot be redeemed for my crimes against you and against all the people who care for the Green Dragon Inn. I can only be punished. But how do you punish a man who has nothing? How do you meet out justice to someone who hopes only for death?”

[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman regarded the man carefully, moved in her heart by the despairing words he spoke. But although he spoke of his own misfortune, he was not self-pitying; and although he was drunk, his words were sober. The Innkeeper now understood, as far as one who had not experienced what he had, why Snaveling was as he seemed to others: bitter, angry, despairing.

"You said the pain you felt when I said I would send you away was...Why does the Inn mean so much to you?" she said very softly. The man simply twisted his lips bitterly and contented himself with tracing the label of the bottle with the tip of one long finger, looking away from the Innkeeper. Aman rose from her seat and turned away, absently looking into the fire, her hands behind her back, then she looked back at Snaveling.

"You know I only really fear one thing, Snaveling?" she said suddenly. He looked up at her, apparent disbelief in his eyes, but also still that hopelessness. Aman paused, then continued, looking back into the roaring fireplace. "Fire. That is really the only thing I am truly afraid of. You see, master Snaveling, I have lived 24 years, most of them in or around Rohan - I was 11 years old, nearly 12, during the War of the Ring, and, ironically, at the time I was working as a groom in Minas Tirith, in Gondor. When the Nazgul attacked, there was...fire, all around, destroying everything, killing all in its path, be they people or animals. I saw horses plummet from the sky and two of the older grooms engulfed in flames, snuffed out in a moment." The Innkeeper paused, a shudder rippling down her slim frame. The flames of the fire dancing in her green eyes as the memory of fire much worse leapt in her memory, sorrow tracing the lines of her young face, before she continued.

"Do not mistake my words, Snaveling - I am not trying to compete with you, of course - there would be no point, for you have experienced much beyond anything I have been endured, whether it was the attack on Minas Tirith or anything further than that in my travels. What...well, what I am trying to say, I suppose, is that maybe I have over-reacted-"

"You did not over react, Mistress Rohan. Not at all." Snaveling's voice was very soft and bitter. Aman smiled very slightly and gently, turning her gaze to him.

"Are you going to insist on calling me that?" she replied quietly, then shrugged. "I doubt very many people will know exactly how much you broke down there, and the bottle of brandy...it is an unnecessary detail. This Inn is stocked with decades of alcohol, and I don't think any of the previous Innkeepers, even the hobbit ones, know exactly how far back the cellar extends or just how much accumulated drink resides within it. What I am saying is that a few bottles of wine, however fine and precious, no matter who they were given by...they cannot merit the total destruction of happiness that you have described.

"You see, Snaveling, tonight three visitors will arrive at the Inn, friends of mine, probably expecting to see wreck and ruin left of the Green Dragon. Thanks to the kindness and generosity of the folk of the Shire and travellers passing by, they will find quite a different image, and will of course be delighted about it. I do not want this to be blighted by what would probably be the only ban from this Inn ever inflicted, and neither do I want my conscience to be blighted with the knowledge that I turned you out. And neither," she added. "Do I want to know that you are sleeping rough when you could be here."

Snaveling said nothing, still tracing the label of the brandy with his fingers, and Aman turned to sit slowly in the armchair again, the fire dancing on the pale skin of her side as she leant forward to meet his eyes.

"Maybe you are telling me a made up sob story, Snaveling, and maybe you are nothing more than the thief and liar that you percieve yourself to be. But I don't think so. And payment?" She smiled. "How much do you think ten days hard manual labour to rebuild an Inn would cost? Reckon it would cover the cost of half a dozen bottles of wine?"

She walked over to the door, placing one hand on the knob as she looked back over at Snaveling. "Come, Master Snaveling, the party continues. Take the brandy as...a gift."

Ngole slowed her horse to a stop. Looking carefully through the protection of her hooded cloak, she glaced upwards to the sign above the door.
The Green Dragon Inn... That was right.

The elfess swiftly jumped from her horse to the ground. She pointed down the road and softly whispered to it. At this, the gallant steed cantered down the pebbled path, and into a local stable. Hakiel (the horse) was of Rohan blood, and understood the ancient tongue of Quenya. He was her closest friend.

Ngole stepped now to the damp wooden path leading to the Inn. Pulling her hood from her deep brown waves of hair, she touched the brass knob. Pushing steadily, the door opened, and warmth flooded her senses.

Smiling to the bookeeper, she stepped into the Inn, and cleared her throat.
"One room, please; whatever is available."

He flipped nimbly through the pages, and scanned down the row with his finger.
"Ah, room 124, just that way," he pointed through the room, to a dim hallway.

"Thank you." Ngole took notice of everything in the room... the many people.. from different lands... the blazing flames within the fireplace... the worn oak floor... the sturdy wooden tables. It was a very bustling place. Everyone talking, singing, dancing, and drinking.

Shaking herself from her sort of trance, she made her way to the softly lighted hall.