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#1 |
Newly Deceased
Join Date: Jun 2004
Posts: 10
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Faragorn thought of a brief, yet simple way of answering Peony’s question. “Honestly I do not know for I have traveled for two years now. I have ventured through all Middle-Earth, seeking for a life in which I can live in peace.” He knew that was a very questionable statement he made, but he couldn’t think of a better way to put it.
“If you do not mind my curiosity, what type of errand are you on with your friend? It must be important coming all the way from Minas Tirith.” Faragorn asked. The waitress returned with Peony’s brandy and placed it in front of her. Faragorn took another gulp of his. As time went by the scratching sound of branches from the maple tree began to become annoying. Soon Faragorn would have to move to the opposite side of the room to avoid listening to the noise any longer, but first he decided, he should listen to Peony before exiting the conversation.
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The higher the rank I attain, the more humbly I behave. The greater my power, the less I exercise it. The richer my wealth, the more I give away. Thus I avoid envy, spite, and misery. |
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#2 |
Child of the West
Join Date: Dec 2003
Location: Watching President Fillmore ride a unicorn
Posts: 2,132
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"My friend was running an errand for my father in Bree. I just came along as company. Being stuck at home is such a bore to me." Peony took a sip of brandy, not really her favorite drink, but it would do.
Faragorn seemed annoyed by branches scratching around outside. Peony didn't blame him, it was getting rather annoying, but she could stand it. "Where are you planning to head after here?"
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"Let us live so that when we come to die even the undertaker will be sorry." - Mark Twain |
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#3 |
Vice of Twilight
Join Date: Nov 2002
Location: on a mountain
Posts: 1,121
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"I'm from Buckland," said Posco, his voice very quiet but a hint of a smile upon his face. "My twin brother Blanco and I are here visiting our aunt... Marcho and Bingo came with us." He blushed when he realized how much he had said but spoke once again, asking, "Where are you from?" Oaf! She had already said she was from Bree. "I mean, what are you doing in Bywater?"
Blanco, standing in the crowd gathered about Falco's table, had put in throughout the story 'oohs' and 'aahs' where he thought appropriate. After all, that was what one was supposed to do when one was listening to a tale. He heard the dwarf singing his song, turned, applauded loudly, and directed his attention back to Falco. He struggled with his manners and tried not to stare at Ruby... he had never seen a lass make eyes so. Falco seemed to enjoy it, too. Hobbits could be just as odd as Big Folk sometimes. Back at the other table Bingo turned his fair face to Toby and smiled, saying, "I see Posco didn't ask what race you were." "Perhaps it is fairly obvious I'm a Hobbit," replied Toby. "Poor boy, he was very confused." "Yes," said Bingo softly. "But he is a very kind hobbit. I love him dearly. I love all in our little company of four. Blanco is especially good to me, but Marcho watches after me the most, I think. You should have seen him when we were walking here in the rain." Bingo's eyes filled with sweet recollection. "I was cold and wet and my cloak was drenched though his was considerably dry. Marcho took his cloak off and gave it to me. He's a very true friend." |
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#4 |
Newly Deceased
Join Date: Jun 2004
Posts: 10
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Faragorn watched the many folk in the Inn to find yet another man watching, but he put no curiosity in it. He guessed that most would find him as an odd type. Not many people seemed to have glorious silver cloaks nor silver hair at that.
He noticed that Peony wasn’t easily annoyed. In his mind he thought that she had not seen the dangers he had, nor the worry of what might come to be. Many folk that he had come by in his travels had also no worry. It was a rather common thing around the Shire. Faragorn faced Peony once more. “Well that is a very good question. Unfortunately one to which I have no answer. I have been traveling as a blind man. Not literally of course, but I see you understand.” His mug was now empty and it was time for him to depart from this conversation. He did not want to get too far into the conversation before he would tell more of his life. He had many grand adventures to tell, but he would have to save those for another time. Faragorn stood up and pushed in his chair. “I must get away from this horrid noise,” he lied. “I do apologize for I must end this conversation. If we ever do come across each other again I’d gladly come to have another pleasant conversation with you.” With that said he left to the other side of the room and sat down at a new table near the one that earlier had wandering eyes apon it. Now there was a man singing a song among his friends.
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The higher the rank I attain, the more humbly I behave. The greater my power, the less I exercise it. The richer my wealth, the more I give away. Thus I avoid envy, spite, and misery. Last edited by Faragorn; 06-16-2004 at 12:15 PM. |
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#5 |
Haunting Spirit
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'Jean' did not wait long after Peony got up to leave himself. He stood, not bothering to push in his chair, and walked to the door and opened it. Before he could step outside, however a sudden flash of lightning silhouetted a massive form against the doorway. With the heralding of that singular lightning flash the storm began again in earnest. Rain began to pour down and the wind began to howl like a pack of wolves.
The new arrival was wrapped in a black cloak which made Jean's unnaturally dark cloak seem pale grey. Despite standing in the doorway with harsh winds behind him the apparition's cloak did not stir. The figure was a good foot taller than Jean, who was an uncommonly tall man. The new one placed a gauntleted hand across 'Jean's chest and pushed him firmly backwards. Then he stepped forward and allowed the heavy oaken door to slam behind him. The stranger started towards an unoccupied table in the corner and beckoned to 'Jean' to follow him. 'Jean' hastened to obey. The stranger's heavy boots thunked loudly on the hardwood floor. The pair arrived at the table and took seats opposite each other. 'Jean' leaned over the table and whispered "What brings you here, Master?" The characteristic relaxed tone of Jean's voice was gone: he sounded intimidated, even obsequious. "There will be a time for questions" the stranger responded harshly. He raised one hand and snapped his fingers, quite loudly. A serving girl scrambled over to the table. "Your finest red wine." He sent her scurrying off. "So. I am told you call yourself Jean now. Well, 'Jean', let me tell you what you will do. You will first tell me everything you know of this 'Faragorn', and then you will go to the stables and look after my horses." The two men began to converse in low tones. |
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#6 |
Newly Deceased
Join Date: Jun 2004
Posts: 10
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All the noise in the inn stopped for a moment as a tall cloaked stranger walked into the room, slamming the door behind him. Never had Faragorn seen a taller figure. He apparently knew one man of which was almost a head shorter than him. Both walked to the back of the old inn and began to whisper, or at least it seemed from the far distance away that Faragorn was.
The room filled with talking and laughter again. Faragorn kept his eyes on them to try and make out what they said, but the heavy cloaks made it far too dark for anyone to realize that their mouths were moving. He looked away and decided it was best left a mystery. A servant came once more to his table, not noticing that he had been there for a while, and asked him if he cared for a brandy. Since his old one was empty, which he had left on the table that currently occupied the stranger and the other man, he decided to purchase another. He was deciding where he would arrive next. Many things determined this, but out of all of them he thought most of where he could start on his journey.
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The higher the rank I attain, the more humbly I behave. The greater my power, the less I exercise it. The richer my wealth, the more I give away. Thus I avoid envy, spite, and misery. |
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#7 |
Illusionary Holbytla
Join Date: Dec 2003
Posts: 7,547
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"I'm from Buckland. My twin brother Blanco and I are here visiting our aunt... Marcho and Bingo came with us," said Posco. Lily noticed that he blushed slightly, but that he was in fact smiling. "Where are you from? I mean, what are you doing in Bywater?" Lily was almost surprised at the length of answer that he had provided, but she was also quite pleased.
"Well, I have wanted to travel for quite some time, and see some new places. My uncle - I have lived with my aunt and uncle for quite some time, you see - recommended that I start with the Shire. So here I am," said Lily. She took a sip of her tea. She had felt almost stifled earlier, but now the Common Room was feeling comfortable, and the fire in the nearby fireplace was crackling. "So you're from Buckland. I stopped there for a night a few days ago. Do you live in Brandy Hall, then?" |
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#8 |
Haunting Spirit
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Jean's conversation with the tall stranger abruptly ceased. Both leaned back in their chairs. They had been, quite without realizing it, hunched over the table in their effort to keep the conversation from unwelcome ears, whispering oh so quietly with their heads together. The stranger dismissed Jean with a wave of his hand, and Jean stood to leave, pulling up the hood of his cloak. Silently Jean made his way to the door and went out.
The stranger waited for the server to bring his wine. With it in hand, he made his way to the table where Faragorn was sitting. When he passed rather close to a certain table, the candles went out as he passed. Fortunately, the table was unoccuppied. Without waiting for an invitation, he set down across from Faragorn. "Your name is Faragorn. Yes? How about you start by telling me why you are here in the Shire, Faragorn." He took a sip of his wine and started to unbuckle his heavy steel gauntlets, tucking them behind his swordbelt. Underneath his hands were still covered by black leather gloves. The man's voice was quiet, his speech proper, but his tone demanded an answer. Faragorn casually peered deep into the man's hood but could make out nothing. The man's face was shadowed too much by his cowl. |
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