The Golden Perch Inn

[Dunwen]

Peri sat near a window in the Perch's Common Room enjoying the last of her meal. While it was late to having second breakfast, she'd slept later than usual, thanks to Ruby's intrusion and the confusion the little hobbit seemed to cause wherever she went. She'd heard the two sisters had left before dawn, and admitted to a shameful sense of relief at a Ruby-less inn. It was a pity in a way, because she'd rather liked the older sister, Lily.

She watched the activity of the other diners and the hobbits who waited on them as she finished her tea and a lovely seed-cake. That morning she'd dressed in a white blouse, a black bodice and a vivid amethyst-colored skirt. A purple ribbon matching the skirt completed her outfit. Having made sure Brightheart was comfortable in his stall, she'd finished unpacking and walked around the grounds of the inn. Now she was planning her afternoon.

Part of the reason she'd chosen to visit Stock was that a dear friend of hers had married a young farmer from the area. Although a sporadic correspondent, the former Chalcedony Delver had once written directions to her new husband's farm just outside Stock. Peri nodded to herself. She could visit Cece this very day.

Decision made, Peri got up from the table and turned to slip from behind it. With the noon sun shining into her eyes through the window, she failed to notice an unmoving form sitting in the shadows nearby. The hobbit girl tripped heavily over the long legs of an Elf that appeared to be sleeping in a chair and fell plump onto the floor. She thought she'd heard him referred to as "Gwathgor" or some such name.

Horrified at her clumsiness, she scrambled to her feet. "I'm so sorry sir! Please forgive me for not looking where I was going." The elf still looked asleep, but she did not want to be rude and hurry off without waiting for a reply.

[Arien]

Alenia pulled the small knife from her bag and brushed it across the leaves of what seemed to be a stubborn weed entwined amongst the flowers. She crouched closer, examined it for a few seconds, breaking off a leaf and sniffing it, and then stood up.

“Just a weed…” she muttered.

She wiped her hands on her trousers and placing the knife carefully back into her bag she continued on her way towards Stock, her horse Fawn trotting dutifully beside her. She would be glad to spend some time here as it had been over a month now since she had stayed for more than one night anywhere. As much as she loved to travel on her own and experience what the earth could give she couldn’t help but feel disconnected and isolated from others. She had no real friends now, they were all left behind, all of them came second to her pursuit of knowledge. She knew she was truly alone now. And on top of that, she reminded herself again, she could not protect herself at all. Fair enough if she perhaps had time to poison or put her attackers to sleep but in reality this would never happen. So far she counted herself lucky.

Alenia now drew up outside The Golden Perch, she thought she had heard it mentioned a couple of day ago but she couldn’t remember. Either way it had stables and looked friendly enough plus she was tired so here was good enough. She lead Fawn to the stables and removed her pack from the horses back and with a quick kiss and smile she headed towards the front door.

Alenia brushed her hair out of her face as she pushed open the door to the inn. Ducking slightly as she entered she let the door shut slowly behind her stopping momentarily to take a deep breath. She continued to move towards a free table near a window a female hobbit had just left empty. A she sat down she saw the hobbit stumble over an inconspicuous elf in the shadows. Alenia raised an eyebrow as the hobbit apologised quickly and scamper off. She watched the elf curiously for a moment and then finally dropped into her seat.

[Iras Sabir]

Ira walked along beside her horse. Both rider and animal looked tired, the horse a little moreso than its rider.

"Easy, Issa..." She murmmured gently. The horse nuzzled her arm affectionately. Ira smiled and kept walking. She was wearing a long traveling cloak, its hem torn and covered in dust and mudd. On her feet she wore a pair of thick leather boots, they looked like a good quality of boot. Her legs were covered in a pair of dark brown trousers underneath a long dark green tunic. Her hair was back in a braid, out of her eyes. Her eyes were quiet remarkable. Grey-blue ringed a light green with golden-brown towards the pupil.

Ira was walking beside her horse because they had ridden many miles that day. She was now in a place called the Shire. She had never heard of such a place, but it seemed to be inhabitated by children. The whole place made her nervous. She wasn't used to being much taller than anyone, in fact her friends teased her about being short. Not here. She saw a group of what really was children and her eyes widened. Twice as small as their parents. They all stopped their play to wave at her. She waved hesitantly back, not quite sure what was expected of her. They all giggled and ran off.

Ira continued on, her head up more now. The little people were at work everywhere...And all the children! She shook her head in amazement. There seemed to be hundreds of their children everywhere! She finally caught sight of the inn sign. Finally! She thought, quickening her pace. She looked forward to being able to wash the dust and grime of the road from her skin. She walked Issa around the back to the stables and pulled her gear off. After she had spent some time tending to her mount, she left Issa alone to eat and rest.

Ira walked inside the inn, pushing her cloak back a bit.
"Scuse me! You'll need to leave your sword at the door!" one of the little people from the back hollered. Ira froze and stared at the little man.
"Why?" She asked, her voice betraying her upset at the request. The man smiled at her
"Just Inn policy miss..." He said. Ira reluctantly pulled her sword from its sheath. Its blade shone dully in the firelight.
"Take good care of this..." She whispered, not really at him, just at anyone in general. She set her sword down gently against the wall then walked up to the bar to order some wine. After she had the bottle and glass she went and sat down at a table to relax for a while.

[Groin Redbeard]

Groin walked through the thickets and over the hills for quite some time now. He enjoyed the beautiful countryside that he was walking in, and was, by now, whistling a happy tune.

After walking for a while he came to a small stream that winded its way through the forest. Groin knelt down, scooping up a small amount of water in the palm of his hand. He repeated that same technique over and over, until he had drunk his fill.

He was just about to move on, when noticed something moving in the bushes. It sounded like a deer, so Groin paid no attention to it, until refused to leave him alone. He walked for a little ways, and the rustling noise followed him. Groin was becoming a little anxious, he sprinted ahead trying to lose the creature, but it still kept up with him. Finally Groin halted he raised his battle axe above his head and sprang at the creature.

“Baruk Khazad!”

The creature fled from him before Groin could reach it. Groin continued to yell and scream until he was sure that the creature was gone. He inspected the ground searching for some kind of clue as to what it was. Wolf tracks! Groin’s brow reddened as he remembered the night that he was attacked by an entire pack of Wolves; needless to say he didn’t like the thought of roaming around in their woods.

Groin ran as fast as he could to get out of the woods. He ran until he came to another road that cut its way through the forest. He sat down breathing hard trying to catch his breath. He looked up and down the road; he saw a dismounted rider coming his way. He watched as the girl passed by him; she seemed to be fiddling around with something inside her sack that he had slung around her shoulders.

Soon after the girl had passed him by, another dismounted rider walked passed him, this one also a girl. Groin made an effort this time to be civil; he smiled and gave a short bow as the lady passed by. Groin had almost mistaken her for a Ranger, except he knew Rangers didn’t ride horses. She waved and moved on past him. Groin watched her for a moment transfixed by her beauty. Suddenly becoming conscience of his staring, he snapped himself out of it, and protruded down the road in the opposite direction.

[Iras Sabir]

Ira finished her wine at her seat and streached. She had been her long enough.
"Sir? Is it safe for me to stable my horse here for a while?" She asked, braved with the wine in her. The inn keep nodded and she left a heavy coin on the table and walked out. She still had her cloak on and now had her sword back. She started back down the road out of town, wandering and staring at everything. She had never been in a town this small before.

Ira wandered the town, staring at the people. All of them small. Only one bigger...Was that a dwarf? Her eyes widened. Her brothers had told her tales when she was younger about the dwarves that they had stayed with. She smiled and then almost tripped over a small man. He glared at her and she jumped back, her hand dropping her her sword. She was too highstrung. Ira stammered out an apology and the man continued on. She hated when she got highstrung like that.

Ira sighed and turned back to the inn. It wasn't good for her to be about in that kind of mood. She wandered back down the road, head low this time, trying not to make eye contact.

As she walked the began to think. About her past. About her future. About everything. She wondered about Kale, her only brother left, and what he was doing at the moment. How are the Elves? She wondered.

She found herself no longer walking, but rather sitting at the base of a tree. Her oldest brother had often told her it was far better to stop and smell the roses than to get anywhere exactly on time. You'd see more and learn more that way. Her brother wasn't the best philosipher, but he had a good basic idea. She smiled slightly and stared off at the hills.

[Iras Sabir]

Ira allowed herself to rest, for once, and smiled. It really had been too long since she had just sat down and relaxed. She thought about her recent travels. She had been down in the Mordor area, exploring and trying to find out about the land there. It seemed posioned and the people near there were not the kindest. She had avoided them each time they were near.

Ira streached and stood up. She wanted to see more of this tiny city. She walked off down the path to continue her exploration.

[Gwathagor]

Gwathagor rose from his corner chair and moved towards the innkeeper's counter, stepping carefully between the tables of the merry folk who were lunching at the inn. At the counter, he hailed Seredic, who he had met earlier that day.

"Master Innkeeper, I beg your pardon for my rather graceless exit during our earlier conversation. The one I heard crying for help it seems was an elf-maid; one Gable. I found her seeking refuge in a tree, surrounded by hungry wolves. I slew her attackers, and Gable is safe. Has she returned to the inn yet?"

Dick responded in the negative.

"Hm. I had meant to ask her to elaborate further concerning a certain silver locket that was found with a certain pony. I...may know something about it. Do you have it near at hand, or do you know where I might find it?"

The elf's face was solemn and dispassionate as usual, but his hands trembled slightly. It was the lingering effect of the vision which he had just experienced, which had not yet faded from his mind. The images still blazed before his eyes, burning his mind with sorrow and cutting his soul like icicles of regret and longing. Part of him wished that the memories had remained where he had carefully buried them during his years of wandering. But now they were free; he knew he could not go back. And this locket: what could it mean? What did it signify? Particularly if it was the same that his fair lady had given him...could it be? If it HAD been found, what other dearly beloved things might also come to light? It had been thousands of years since he had lost that locket, during the fateful war. It had all begun then: the sorrow, the regret, the wandering. The hardening of his soul.

Even as Seredic was responding, Gwathagor drifted off again, slipping back into the past. Leaning on the counter, his head bowed, he tried to steel himself against the mist that swept over him, pulling him down, but he knew he was powerless. He must endure the full gauntlet of these visions, this reawakening, hurt him though it might. The past was dangerous, but wise; who knew where it might lead? And this was only the beginning...