The White Horse Inn, Act III - The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum

Feanor of the Peredhil · 05-04-2005, 01:05 PM

"Desi, leave. Now." Faleron spoke. His tone left no room for debate. "Odessa, OUT!" he roared. Staring daggers at him, Odessa ran from the room, not stopping until she had reached her room and blocked the door. She had never before heard that tone in her brother's voice, and it scared her.

Back in the common room, Faleron covertly drew his knives, joining the heroes. Degas backed away, weaponless because of his bandaged hands. He took the hand of each lady, Saeryn and Gudryn, and drew them close. "No fears, ladies," he whispered hoarsely. Saeryn was terrified... if she had ever been in such a situation, her current state of mind did not allow her to know. They waited, the three, behind a table, with Degas for protection as the four heroes... five now... blocked them from view of the loud and frightening stranger. They waited silently for the next move.

Bêthberry · 05-04-2005, 01:54 PM

Ruthven shook her head. She had thought the door was closed, lock, stock and barrel as the old saying went. Mayhap it wasn't locked after they let in the lad Degas. Fine bunch of heroes they turn out to be. Nonetheless, she moved covertly, taking something out of her pocket and surruptitiously shaking it into one of the tankards in front of her. Then she coughed and wheezed a bit.

The old rag lady rose from her table, wobbly with her stiff bones and creaky joints. Her tankard she held high in her hand. Another tankard appeared in her other hand. She appeared to be tipsier than she really was, which made her appear harmless.

"The Innkeeper is unavailable at this moment. May I take it upon myself to welcome you to our humble Inn. I am Ruthven, the rag lady and secondhand dealer of Edoras. A tankard on the house, if you will?" Ruthven took a gulp from her tankard, leaving foam in a small dribble around her upper lip. She offerred the other tankard to the hooded man.

He stared at her. At least, it appeared he stared at her, given his face was covered by his hood.

"I'm lookin' fer a wee lassie wot's mine," he stated.

"Ye must be tired from all yer searchin. Here, have an ale."

"You silly old bag. Tink 'ye I'll be wanting an ale when the girl's right there in front o' me?" He walked over to Ruthven and knocked the tankard out of her hand, spilling the precious dark brew over his hand, his sleeve, his side.

Ruthven jumped back, out of his way and out of the way of the ale. Twas a great loss, to tamper with such delectable drink as that, but she had had no choice. Now she moved further away from him, making him think she had simply wanted him to drink. Little did the cloaked marauder know she had hoped to spill the ale on him and let Bethberry's potion take its course.

Feanor of the Peredhil · 05-04-2005, 02:48 PM

Degas could not understand why the five men were not acting upon this brigand, but it was of no importance. The fact was, this man... this Rand... was here, and he was moving toward the ladies. Unacceptable, he thought, straightening to a height which, suprisingly to himself, matched that of his former attacker. The other man, however, weighed quite a bit more than the lanky youth.

Degas stepped forward, his face set. "Sir, you make demands for that which is no item that you may possess. I highly recommend rephrasing to ask the lady if she desires your company, and should that fail, which I have a strong suspicion it will, given your apparent sensitivity, I recommend even more putting your back to us and taking a long trip far from here."

The young man was almost amazed at his own audacity, but after his rocky past with the near stranger that had beaten him bloody, he was surprised to find that he didn't give a purple pea what anybody thought of his rudeness.

littlemanpoet · 05-04-2005, 07:56 PM

Eodwine momentarily smirked at Degas' fine string of words. He raised his sword.

"If you be Rand," Eodwine said, "we know what manner of man you be. You are not welcome here, outlaw. Leave before it goes badly for you. We will not let you have the lass Gudryn, upon our lives."

"Aye," said Falco, raising a short sword none of the others had seen until now.

Harreld and Garreth said nothing, but moved around one to each side of the man Rand, there weapons raised. This Rand was a big man, bigger than the two smiths, but not bigger than both combined.

Rand eyed them each darkly in turn, his huge meaty hands opening and closing as if ready to rip and tear.

"A guard told us of your coming before you broke the door and entered, and he is off to the Golden Hall for more guards. They will be on their way. You will soon be face with large numbers and taken captive to the king's judgement. One last time we say to you," Eodwine raised his voice, "leave before you give new cause for judgement. Now!"

Esgallhugwen · 05-09-2005, 05:50 PM

"A guard told us of your coming before you broke the door and entered, and he is off to the Golden Hall for more guards. They will be on their way. You will soon be face with large numbers and taken captive to the king's judgement. One last time we say to you," Eodwine raised his voice, "leave before you give new cause for judgement. Now!"

The shady figure of Rand paused for a moment, then he laughed, a cruel terrible thick laugh that would peel the meat from bones if it could. "So's thats howya want it then, eh? Seems there ain't much a stuffed in that there head but straw, eh blondie?"

He stepped forward as the heroes raised what weapons they had to counter any impending blows. "What's mine is mine as tey say".

"I'm not yours any more Rand!", a small but fierce voice spoke out above his chortling.

"There now, you've gone and done it in now, I was a gonna be taking yer back all nice and sweet like, but seems as things are gonin' now I'm gonna have to use some force after all".

He pulled a stained staff out from under his cloak, Gudryn cringed, stained with her own blood, the memories came wailing and clawing back like winter wind against a bolted door. "Seeing as I'm not too fond of talking and you're doing most of it", Rand raised the staff ready to strike Eodwine in the head.

Feanor of the Peredhil · 05-09-2005, 06:30 PM

As the blood-stained staff rose, Saeryn's fear rose with it. She could not understand what this man was doing, ruining her first bit of comfortable belonging. Pure rage replaced her nerves, fizzing through every vein and causing a stream of curses she'd forgotten she knew to run through her head. For a moment, the image of a straw-haired hostler, ruddy cheeked and handsome, ran through her head. She saw a pretty red haired teenage girl throw her arms about his neck and kiss his cheek. Resolving to think about the image later, Saeryn of the Folde did perhaps the stupidest thing of her life: she broke away from the firm hold of her brother and leapt upon the man, Rand.

"No!" she screamed, flying for him.

It was pure surprise more than anything that stopped him. Assuredly it had not been her weight as her slender frame could not have weighed all that much over a hundred pounds. With a swift gesture, Rand slammed the girl away from him and into Degas, looking blankly at her. The room went dead silent as she stood clutching her still tender ribs and breathing heavily. She breathlessly muttered a curse, murmering to her brother. "That really hurt." she whispered as she stared foggily up at the man, waiting to see if her rashness and anger had just gotten her killed.

littlemanpoet · 05-09-2005, 08:09 PM

[edit: reworked]

Rand tossed the wiry frame of Saeryn back at Degas as if she was no more than a rag doll.

"Now that's scorched it!" Garreth bellowed.

In the time it took him to speak his wrath and raise his poker, Eodwine rushed in and raised his sword. Rand raised his bloody staff to parry Eodwine's blow, and did; but the man of the Eorling was a seasoned warrior, and his skill gave power to his sword, and Rand's staff broke in two.

Garreth charged the ruffian, as did his twin brother from the opposite side of Rand wordlessly. Harreld and Garreth were big men, easily as tall as Rand, and no mean specimens as blacksmiths went, and their weight combined was more than Rand's; but they did not reckon that a man so big could move so quickly. He ducked and their blows that had been intended for his head, careemed into each other's weapons with a clang. However, both twins were good wrestlers, having had each other to practice on often and recently, and their free hands laid strong holds on the rascal; Harreld grabbed a tuft of Rand's hair whilst Garreth had him round the neck.

Eodwine stood back a moment while Harreld and Garreth grappled Rand; he sheathed his sword and then dove, tackling Rand by both legs, receiving a forceful boot in his middle for his efforts.

Falco, standing on a table top, held a mug in his throwing hand, watching the four wrestle, waiting and watching for an opening. He wound up, ready to wing the mug. It was hard to find what he wanted in the mess of limbs flailing and heads rising and lowering. He saw his opening and let loose his mug, arrow-quick, which caught the ruffian right between the eyes.

05-04-2005, 07:56 PM	#4
littlemanpoet Itinerant Songster Join Date: Jan 2002 Location: The Edge of Faerie Posts: 7,066	Eodwine, Falco, Harreld, and Garreth Eodwine momentarily smirked at Degas' fine string of words. He raised his sword. "If you be Rand," Eodwine said, "we know what manner of man you be. You are not welcome here, outlaw. Leave before it goes badly for you. We will not let you have the lass Gudryn, upon our lives." "Aye," said Falco, raising a short sword none of the others had seen until now. Harreld and Garreth said nothing, but moved around one to each side of the man Rand, there weapons raised. This Rand was a big man, bigger than the two smiths, but not bigger than both combined. Rand eyed them each darkly in turn, his huge meaty hands opening and closing as if ready to rip and tear. "A guard told us of your coming before you broke the door and entered, and he is off to the Golden Hall for more guards. They will be on their way. You will soon be face with large numbers and taken captive to the king's judgement. One last time we say to you," Eodwine raised his voice, "leave before you give new cause for judgement. Now!"

05-09-2005, 05:50 PM	#5
Esgallhugwen Ghost Prince of Cardolan Join Date: Jun 2003 Location: Where the Moon cries against the snow Posts: 526	Gudryn and Rand "A guard told us of your coming before you broke the door and entered, and he is off to the Golden Hall for more guards. They will be on their way. You will soon be face with large numbers and taken captive to the king's judgement. One last time we say to you," Eodwine raised his voice, "leave before you give new cause for judgement. Now!" The shady figure of Rand paused for a moment, then he laughed, a cruel terrible thick laugh that would peel the meat from bones if it could. "So's thats howya want it then, eh? Seems there ain't much a stuffed in that there head but straw, eh blondie?" He stepped forward as the heroes raised what weapons they had to counter any impending blows. "What's mine is mine as tey say". "I'm not yours any more Rand!", a small but fierce voice spoke out above his chortling. "There now, you've gone and done it in now, I was a gonna be taking yer back all nice and sweet like, but seems as things are gonin' now I'm gonna have to use some force after all". He pulled a stained staff out from under his cloak, Gudryn cringed, stained with her own blood, the memories came wailing and clawing back like winter wind against a bolted door. "Seeing as I'm not too fond of talking and you're doing most of it", Rand raised the staff ready to strike Eodwine in the head. __________________ "...for the sin of the idolater is not that he worships stone, but that he worships one stone over others. -8:9:4 The Witness of Fane"

05-09-2005, 06:30 PM	#6
Feanor of the Peredhil La Belle Dame sans Merci Join Date: Feb 2003 Location: perpetual uncertainty Posts: 5,517	As the blood-stained staff rose, Saeryn's fear rose with it. She could not understand what this man was doing, ruining her first bit of comfortable belonging. Pure rage replaced her nerves, fizzing through every vein and causing a stream of curses she'd forgotten she knew to run through her head. For a moment, the image of a straw-haired hostler, ruddy cheeked and handsome, ran through her head. She saw a pretty red haired teenage girl throw her arms about his neck and kiss his cheek. Resolving to think about the image later, Saeryn of the Folde did perhaps the stupidest thing of her life: she broke away from the firm hold of her brother and leapt upon the man, Rand. "No!" she screamed, flying for him. It was pure surprise more than anything that stopped him. Assuredly it had not been her weight as her slender frame could not have weighed all that much over a hundred pounds. With a swift gesture, Rand slammed the girl away from him and into Degas, looking blankly at her. The room went dead silent as she stood clutching her still tender ribs and breathing heavily. She breathlessly muttered a curse, murmering to her brother. "That really hurt." she whispered as she stared foggily up at the man, waiting to see if her rashness and anger had just gotten her killed. Last edited by Feanor of the Peredhil; 05-09-2005 at 08:14 PM.

05-09-2005, 08:09 PM	#7
littlemanpoet Itinerant Songster Join Date: Jan 2002 Location: The Edge of Faerie Posts: 7,066	Eodwine and friends [edit: reworked] Rand tossed the wiry frame of Saeryn back at Degas as if she was no more than a rag doll. "Now that's scorched it!" Garreth bellowed. In the time it took him to speak his wrath and raise his poker, Eodwine rushed in and raised his sword. Rand raised his bloody staff to parry Eodwine's blow, and did; but the man of the Eorling was a seasoned warrior, and his skill gave power to his sword, and Rand's staff broke in two. Garreth charged the ruffian, as did his twin brother from the opposite side of Rand wordlessly. Harreld and Garreth were big men, easily as tall as Rand, and no mean specimens as blacksmiths went, and their weight combined was more than Rand's; but they did not reckon that a man so big could move so quickly. He ducked and their blows that had been intended for his head, careemed into each other's weapons with a clang. However, both twins were good wrestlers, having had each other to practice on often and recently, and their free hands laid strong holds on the rascal; Harreld grabbed a tuft of Rand's hair whilst Garreth had him round the neck. Eodwine stood back a moment while Harreld and Garreth grappled Rand; he sheathed his sword and then dove, tackling Rand by both legs, receiving a forceful boot in his middle for his efforts. Falco, standing on a table top, held a mug in his throwing hand, watching the four wrestle, waiting and watching for an opening. He wound up, ready to wing the mug. It was hard to find what he wanted in the mess of limbs flailing and heads rising and lowering. He saw his opening and let loose his mug, arrow-quick, which caught the ruffian right between the eyes. Last edited by littlemanpoet; 05-10-2005 at 09:45 AM.

05-04-2005, 01:05 PM	#1
Feanor of the Peredhil La Belle Dame sans Merci Join Date: Feb 2003 Location: perpetual uncertainty Posts: 5,517	"Desi, leave. Now." Faleron spoke. His tone left no room for debate. "Odessa, OUT!" he roared. Staring daggers at him, Odessa ran from the room, not stopping until she had reached her room and blocked the door. She had never before heard that tone in her brother's voice, and it scared her. Back in the common room, Faleron covertly drew his knives, joining the heroes. Degas backed away, weaponless because of his bandaged hands. He took the hand of each lady, Saeryn and Gudryn, and drew them close. "No fears, ladies," he whispered hoarsely. Saeryn was terrified... if she had ever been in such a situation, her current state of mind did not allow her to know. They waited, the three, behind a table, with Degas for protection as the four heroes... five now... blocked them from view of the loud and frightening stranger. They waited silently for the next move.

05-04-2005, 01:54 PM	#2
Bêthberry Cryptic Aura Join Date: May 2002 Posts: 6,003	Ruthven shook her head. She had thought the door was closed, lock, stock and barrel as the old saying went. Mayhap it wasn't locked after they let in the lad Degas. Fine bunch of heroes they turn out to be. Nonetheless, she moved covertly, taking something out of her pocket and surruptitiously shaking it into one of the tankards in front of her. Then she coughed and wheezed a bit. The old rag lady rose from her table, wobbly with her stiff bones and creaky joints. Her tankard she held high in her hand. Another tankard appeared in her other hand. She appeared to be tipsier than she really was, which made her appear harmless. "The Innkeeper is unavailable at this moment. May I take it upon myself to welcome you to our humble Inn. I am Ruthven, the rag lady and secondhand dealer of Edoras. A tankard on the house, if you will?" Ruthven took a gulp from her tankard, leaving foam in a small dribble around her upper lip. She offerred the other tankard to the hooded man. He stared at her. At least, it appeared he stared at her, given his face was covered by his hood. "I'm lookin' fer a wee lassie wot's mine," he stated. "Ye must be tired from all yer searchin. Here, have an ale." "You silly old bag. Tink 'ye I'll be wanting an ale when the girl's right there in front o' me?" He walked over to Ruthven and knocked the tankard out of her hand, spilling the precious dark brew over his hand, his sleeve, his side. Ruthven jumped back, out of his way and out of the way of the ale. Twas a great loss, to tamper with such delectable drink as that, but she had had no choice. Now she moved further away from him, making him think she had simply wanted him to drink. Little did the cloaked marauder know she had hoped to spill the ale on him and let Bethberry's potion take its course.

05-04-2005, 02:48 PM	#3
Feanor of the Peredhil La Belle Dame sans Merci Join Date: Feb 2003 Location: perpetual uncertainty Posts: 5,517	Degas could not understand why the five men were not acting upon this brigand, but it was of no importance. The fact was, this man... this Rand... was here, and he was moving toward the ladies. Unacceptable, he thought, straightening to a height which, suprisingly to himself, matched that of his former attacker. The other man, however, weighed quite a bit more than the lanky youth. Degas stepped forward, his face set. "Sir, you make demands for that which is no item that you may possess. I highly recommend rephrasing to ask the lady if she desires your company, and should that fail, which I have a strong suspicion it will, given your apparent sensitivity, I recommend even more putting your back to us and taking a long trip far from here." The young man was almost amazed at his own audacity, but after his rocky past with the near stranger that had beaten him bloody, he was surprised to find that he didn't give a purple pea what anybody thought of his rudeness.