The Green Dragon Inn #11 - The Last Chapter - The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum

Tevildo · 11-23-2005, 04:01 PM

Tevildo balanced precariously on the window ledge and arched his back so that his muddy white fur fluffed upright, making him look like a dirty snowball. Extended first one paw and then the other, he leapt gracefully down to the floor. He was still quite sleepy. He had spent most of the night caterwauling and prowling with other cats in the vicinity of Bag-end, searching for mice in the tool shed. The band of cats had made such a loud racket that Master Gamgee had finally emerged with hoe in hand threatending the noisey trespassers with extinction. Deep inside the burrow, Tevildo had heard the sound of a little one crying.

Not wishing to take on the authority of the mayor, the cat had taken off across the fields on a tear, returning to the safety of the Dragon, where he had slept most of the morning. Now he slunk along the wall that led towards the kitchen. As the door opened and one of the serving maids rushed through with a tray full of goodies, Tevildo slipped under the lass's skirts and skittled inside. For the moment, everyone's back was turned. Tevildo spied two fat smoked chickens that had been hung on a hook not far from the wash basin, just opposite a shelf full of dishes.

Seeing an opportunity he did not want to forego, the cat sprang up to the shelf and carefully threaded his way between the plates and the cups. Reaching the very end of the shelf, he could smell the sweet odor of chicken beckoning him forward. His mouth began to water and he licked his whiskers, anticipating the feast that was sure to follow. Gathering his body, he hurled himself expertly into the air, expecting to land on the shelf where the enticing carcass was hanging. But something unexpected happened at that point. One of the inhabitants of the kitchen raced up, and seeing what the cat was about to do, extended a broom in his direction. Tevildo let out a screech of indignation as his front paws slipped off the far shelf and he went plunging into the dishpan, miserable and wet. The water splashed up as one of the teapots flew out of the pan and crashed against the counter, shattering in several pieces.

Farael · 11-24-2005, 12:02 PM

Farael walks into the Red Dragon Inn looking tired and fairly dirty, as if he had just been back from the wilderness as he is still carrying his bow and carcaj over his shoulder. Being aware that his appearance is not in the least appealing, he looks for the Innkeeper, asks for a room and disapears towards the back.

A few minutes later, Farael walks back into the common room after taking a bath and putting on some fresh clothes. He looks around for familiar faces, but even though the room is far from empty, he does not recognize any of the many faces. With a tired sigh, Farael leans against the wall and waits to see what kind of activities are happening today.

Koobdooga · 11-27-2005, 10:22 AM

Farael is invited to sit with a Dwarf

The savory scents of mutton stew and fresh baked bread that drifted from a nearby window lured Ibun from the porch. ‘I’m going in for some food,’ he said to his companion, Frór, as he got up from his chair. ‘Good food, by the smell of it, too!’ He cast an eye at Frór who was just refilling his pipe. ‘I’ll just go in and get us a table, if you wish.’

The common room had filled up with hungry diners. The Dwarf managed to secure a table near the wall and was just giving his order to a passing server when he noted a man standing against the wall. ‘Wonder if he’s looking for a place to sit down and eat,’ Ibun murmured to himself. He caught the serving girl’s attention just as she had turned from the table and called her back.

‘See that fellow over there?’ he asked, pointing toward the man. ‘The one leaning against the wall down there aways?’ She nodded her head ‘yes’. ‘Well, why don’t you invite him to sit down here? There’s an empty chair. Tell him Ibun Lodestone of Khazad-dum would be happy to stand him a mug of ale.’

Ibun watched as the girl went off toward the man. ‘He looks to be an interesting fellow,’ thought Ibun. ‘I’ll just bet he has some interesting stories to tell.’

Farael · 11-27-2005, 02:57 PM

Farael smiled at the serving girl politely and followed her to where Ibun Lodestone was sitting. With another smile he bowed slightly for the Dwarf and introduced himself as Farael son of Hadar, from Gondor. He was delighted to accept Ibun's offer of a mug of ale and even happier to have someone to talk to, as he had spent quite a few weeks out on the forests. Farael was fairly curious about what a Dwarf from Khazad-dum would be doing in these lands; yet he had not dealt with Ibun's people very often, and he did not know if asking outright would be considered rude. So instead, after the usual small talk, he decided to tell his newfound friend a little about himself.

Farael had spent his last few weeks travelling at his father's request. After the war, his father had started a small busines, dealing with pipe weed for the most part. He had been sent to The Shire to get some of what his father had heard, was the best pipe weed in the Middle Earth. Yet Farael was not a merchant and the stories of the great war and the bravery of many of his people inspired him. On the way to The Shire, he had found what, he beleived, were the tracks of an Orkish party so he set off with his bow, some arrows and his faithful long knife. He followed the tracks until almost sunset but then - Farael looked into Ibun's eyes- the tracks stopped. "I swear to you," he said "The way the ground had been stomped on it could only have been Orcs, yet all of a sudden the tracks disapeared, without signs of a struggle or a camp being set up. I still cannot believe my eyes, but all I could do was go back and try to catch up with the rest of the convoy."

By the time Farael joined his convoy, it was too late. The convoy was attacked that same night but luckily no one had been seriously harmed. A group of bandits (human, that is) had attacked them and stole most of their money and goods.

Farael took a sip of his ale and nooded at Ibun "They went back to Gondor, but I decided to stay. I have now been walking around on the forests hoping I will find them. That way, I will come back to Gondor victorious rather than defeated." He felt silent now, waiting to see if the Dwarf would reply telling him his story.

Rune Son of Bjarne · 11-27-2005, 04:23 PM

Frór opend his eyes, he was sitting alone outside the Green Dragon with an empty mug in his lab. He looked around and found his pipe lying on the ground, it was full, but had not been litt. "How strange, the tobaco is still warm. I must have dosed of for a second or two Frór mumbeld. You should indeed have been standing close to hear what the dwarf said to him self in this moment.

As he stood up a breath of air hit him, it was in this moment he realised that he indeed had fallen a sleep very suddenley. He had never finnished his ale and now his pants were soacked in it. Just pretent nothing happend and noboddy will notice, yes thats the key. Just ingore it, no problem Frór said to him self. The truth was that he infact was quite embarresed that he had fallen asleep with out finishing his ale. The thing with the pipe he could handle as he had not slept for a while, but to fall a sleep when you are holding a mug of some of the finest ale in middle-earth. He would be laughing stock in every dwarf dwelling from Erebor to the Blue Mountains.

What would Ibun not think of him, falling a sleep in his precens. A greater insult Frór could not think of as he stood there.

Frór picked up his pipe, mug and emptied both completley, as he stood there the smell of food from the kitchen meat him and what a delight full smell it was. As he stood there and dreamed of what fantastic dishes they might serve inside, he rememberd Ibun saying: ‘I’m going in for some food. . . Good food, by the smell of it, too!. . .I’ll just go in and get us a table, if you wish.

Frór was relived by this sudden return of memory, he did not insult his new travel companion and there might even be some food waiting for him inside.

No need to let the fine master Ibun and the food wait Frór spoke somewhat loud as he headed for the door. . .

Koobdooga · 11-28-2005, 08:56 AM

‘What new wickedness is this?’ Ibun wondered aloud. ‘Mahal take the one who brought those misbegotten spawns of darkness into being.’ He tapped his fingers against the mug of ale he held. ‘Surely they haven’t sprouted wings now, have they?’

Taking the pitcher of ale the server had left for them, Ibun topped off both their mugs. ‘Was this near the Shire you saw these tracks?’ he asked. ‘I, myself, traveled up The Greenway to Bree and then west on The Great Road into the Shire. It was just a month ago that I started out from the mountains and only a few days ago I came here. I saw no sign of Orc, nor was there any talk about the foul creatures.’ He shook his head. ‘This is bad news, indeed!’

The Inn door swung open before he could go on, and in walked Frór, his eyes blinking in the darker light of the interior. ‘Over here!’ Ibun cried across the busy room. He waved Frór over to the empty chair.

‘That’s my friend, Frór. From The Iron Hills. We’ve only just met this morning, but we found we’re traveling in the same direction, toward The Blue Mountains to the west. Now that the High King sits in Gondor and brings peace to his lands, we Dwarves are seeking those of our kin who left long ago when the Dark Lord (Mahal strike his hammer hard against him!) . . . when he sent his wicked creations against us. A number of them, or so we’ve heard, dwell in The Blue Mountains.’

Ibun broke off his conversation as Frór neared the table. ‘Sit down, sit down, my friend,’ he said to Frór, pushing out the chair for his with his foot. He nodded toward Farael. ‘This is Farael, son of Hadar of Gondor. He’s just come to the Green Dragon, like ourselves.’

The server who’d taken Ibun’s meal order was returning with her tray laden with three bowls of steaming mutton stew, baskets of thick sliced bread, a crock of butter, and cheese. She laid it all out on the table, along with a three spoons and knives. ‘I thought as how you were three now,’ she said in explanation to Ibun, ‘that I’d just go ahead and bring enough stew and bread and such for all of you.’

piosenniel · 11-28-2005, 09:36 AM

Cook goes after Tevildo in the dishpan

‘Good gravy!!! What is that infernal cat doing in my kitchen?’ Cook had just entered the back door to the kitchen, having left Ginger washing taters at the pump in the back yard. The old kitchen tabby, she noted, had inched her way far beneath the legs of the stove, trying to avoid the notice of the devilish feline.

Buttercup had snatched up a broom and tried to deflect the cat as he jumped to one of the shelves. And now the beast had lost its footing on the shelf it was aiming for and gone crashing into the dishpan. Water splashed up onto Miz Rosebank and out onto the floor . . . along with one of the teapots that arced up in an ungainly spiral and crashed against the counter.

‘My teapot! You horrid creature!’ A sudden fire flamed up in Cook’s eyes and she grabbed one of the big soup pots, intending to scoop up the sodden cat and make it captive with the pot lid. But the soap-sudsy water that pooled on the floor got the better of her as she hurried toward the sink. Down she went with a loud THUMP! . . .

11-27-2005, 10:22 AM	#3
Koobdooga Animated Skeleton Join Date: Aug 2005 Posts: 33	Farael is invited to sit with a Dwarf The savory scents of mutton stew and fresh baked bread that drifted from a nearby window lured Ibun from the porch. ‘I’m going in for some food,’ he said to his companion, Frór, as he got up from his chair. ‘Good food, by the smell of it, too!’ He cast an eye at Frór who was just refilling his pipe. ‘I’ll just go in and get us a table, if you wish.’ The common room had filled up with hungry diners. The Dwarf managed to secure a table near the wall and was just giving his order to a passing server when he noted a man standing against the wall. ‘Wonder if he’s looking for a place to sit down and eat,’ Ibun murmured to himself. He caught the serving girl’s attention just as she had turned from the table and called her back. ‘See that fellow over there?’ he asked, pointing toward the man. ‘The one leaning against the wall down there aways?’ She nodded her head ‘yes’. ‘Well, why don’t you invite him to sit down here? There’s an empty chair. Tell him Ibun Lodestone of Khazad-dum would be happy to stand him a mug of ale.’ Ibun watched as the girl went off toward the man. ‘He looks to be an interesting fellow,’ thought Ibun. ‘I’ll just bet he has some interesting stories to tell.’ __________________ Outside a dog, a book is man's best friend. Inside a dog, it's too dark to read. -- Groucho Marx

11-28-2005, 08:56 AM	#6
Koobdooga Animated Skeleton Join Date: Aug 2005 Posts: 33	‘What new wickedness is this?’ Ibun wondered aloud. ‘Mahal take the one who brought those misbegotten spawns of darkness into being.’ He tapped his fingers against the mug of ale he held. ‘Surely they haven’t sprouted wings now, have they?’ Taking the pitcher of ale the server had left for them, Ibun topped off both their mugs. ‘Was this near the Shire you saw these tracks?’ he asked. ‘I, myself, traveled up The Greenway to Bree and then west on The Great Road into the Shire. It was just a month ago that I started out from the mountains and only a few days ago I came here. I saw no sign of Orc, nor was there any talk about the foul creatures.’ He shook his head. ‘This is bad news, indeed!’ The Inn door swung open before he could go on, and in walked Frór, his eyes blinking in the darker light of the interior. ‘Over here!’ Ibun cried across the busy room. He waved Frór over to the empty chair. ‘That’s my friend, Frór. From The Iron Hills. We’ve only just met this morning, but we found we’re traveling in the same direction, toward The Blue Mountains to the west. Now that the High King sits in Gondor and brings peace to his lands, we Dwarves are seeking those of our kin who left long ago when the Dark Lord (Mahal strike his hammer hard against him!) . . . when he sent his wicked creations against us. A number of them, or so we’ve heard, dwell in The Blue Mountains.’ Ibun broke off his conversation as Frór neared the table. ‘Sit down, sit down, my friend,’ he said to Frór, pushing out the chair for his with his foot. He nodded toward Farael. ‘This is Farael, son of Hadar of Gondor. He’s just come to the Green Dragon, like ourselves.’ The server who’d taken Ibun’s meal order was returning with her tray laden with three bowls of steaming mutton stew, baskets of thick sliced bread, a crock of butter, and cheese. She laid it all out on the table, along with a three spoons and knives. ‘I thought as how you were three now,’ she said in explanation to Ibun, ‘that I’d just go ahead and bring enough stew and bread and such for all of you.’ __________________ Outside a dog, a book is man's best friend. Inside a dog, it's too dark to read. -- Groucho Marx

11-23-2005, 04:01 PM	#1
Tevildo Shade of Carn Dûm Join Date: Nov 2004 Location: Curled up on Melko's lap Posts: 425	Tevildo balanced precariously on the window ledge and arched his back so that his muddy white fur fluffed upright, making him look like a dirty snowball. Extended first one paw and then the other, he leapt gracefully down to the floor. He was still quite sleepy. He had spent most of the night caterwauling and prowling with other cats in the vicinity of Bag-end, searching for mice in the tool shed. The band of cats had made such a loud racket that Master Gamgee had finally emerged with hoe in hand threatending the noisey trespassers with extinction. Deep inside the burrow, Tevildo had heard the sound of a little one crying. Not wishing to take on the authority of the mayor, the cat had taken off across the fields on a tear, returning to the safety of the Dragon, where he had slept most of the morning. Now he slunk along the wall that led towards the kitchen. As the door opened and one of the serving maids rushed through with a tray full of goodies, Tevildo slipped under the lass's skirts and skittled inside. For the moment, everyone's back was turned. Tevildo spied two fat smoked chickens that had been hung on a hook not far from the wash basin, just opposite a shelf full of dishes. Seeing an opportunity he did not want to forego, the cat sprang up to the shelf and carefully threaded his way between the plates and the cups. Reaching the very end of the shelf, he could smell the sweet odor of chicken beckoning him forward. His mouth began to water and he licked his whiskers, anticipating the feast that was sure to follow. Gathering his body, he hurled himself expertly into the air, expecting to land on the shelf where the enticing carcass was hanging. But something unexpected happened at that point. One of the inhabitants of the kitchen raced up, and seeing what the cat was about to do, extended a broom in his direction. Tevildo let out a screech of indignation as his front paws slipped off the far shelf and he went plunging into the dishpan, miserable and wet. The water splashed up as one of the teapots flew out of the pan and crashed against the counter, shattering in several pieces. __________________ Now Tevildo was a mighty cat--the mightiest of all--and possessed of an evil spirit,...and he was in Melko's constant following; and that cat had all cats subject to him, and he and his subjects were the chasers and getters of meat for Melko's table.

11-24-2005, 12:02 PM	#2
Farael Ghost Prince of Cardolan Join Date: Nov 2005 Location: In hospitals, call rooms and (rarely) my apartment. Posts: 1,538	Farael walks into the Red Dragon Inn looking tired and fairly dirty, as if he had just been back from the wilderness as he is still carrying his bow and carcaj over his shoulder. Being aware that his appearance is not in the least appealing, he looks for the Innkeeper, asks for a room and disapears towards the back. A few minutes later, Farael walks back into the common room after taking a bath and putting on some fresh clothes. He looks around for familiar faces, but even though the room is far from empty, he does not recognize any of the many faces. With a tired sigh, Farael leans against the wall and waits to see what kind of activities are happening today.

11-27-2005, 02:57 PM	#4
Farael Ghost Prince of Cardolan Join Date: Nov 2005 Location: In hospitals, call rooms and (rarely) my apartment. Posts: 1,538	Farael smiled at the serving girl politely and followed her to where Ibun Lodestone was sitting. With another smile he bowed slightly for the Dwarf and introduced himself as Farael son of Hadar, from Gondor. He was delighted to accept Ibun's offer of a mug of ale and even happier to have someone to talk to, as he had spent quite a few weeks out on the forests. Farael was fairly curious about what a Dwarf from Khazad-dum would be doing in these lands; yet he had not dealt with Ibun's people very often, and he did not know if asking outright would be considered rude. So instead, after the usual small talk, he decided to tell his newfound friend a little about himself. Farael had spent his last few weeks travelling at his father's request. After the war, his father had started a small busines, dealing with pipe weed for the most part. He had been sent to The Shire to get some of what his father had heard, was the best pipe weed in the Middle Earth. Yet Farael was not a merchant and the stories of the great war and the bravery of many of his people inspired him. On the way to The Shire, he had found what, he beleived, were the tracks of an Orkish party so he set off with his bow, some arrows and his faithful long knife. He followed the tracks until almost sunset but then - Farael looked into Ibun's eyes- the tracks stopped. "I swear to you," he said "The way the ground had been stomped on it could only have been Orcs, yet all of a sudden the tracks disapeared, without signs of a struggle or a camp being set up. I still cannot believe my eyes, but all I could do was go back and try to catch up with the rest of the convoy." By the time Farael joined his convoy, it was too late. The convoy was attacked that same night but luckily no one had been seriously harmed. A group of bandits (human, that is) had attacked them and stole most of their money and goods. Farael took a sip of his ale and nooded at Ibun "They went back to Gondor, but I decided to stay. I have now been walking around on the forests hoping I will find them. That way, I will come back to Gondor victorious rather than defeated." He felt silent now, waiting to see if the Dwarf would reply telling him his story.

11-28-2005, 09:36 AM	#7
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,779	Cook goes after Tevildo in the dishpan ‘Good gravy!!! What is that infernal cat doing in my kitchen?’ Cook had just entered the back door to the kitchen, having left Ginger washing taters at the pump in the back yard. The old kitchen tabby, she noted, had inched her way far beneath the legs of the stove, trying to avoid the notice of the devilish feline. Buttercup had snatched up a broom and tried to deflect the cat as he jumped to one of the shelves. And now the beast had lost its footing on the shelf it was aiming for and gone crashing into the dishpan. Water splashed up onto Miz Rosebank and out onto the floor . . . along with one of the teapots that arced up in an ungainly spiral and crashed against the counter. ‘My teapot! You horrid creature!’ A sudden fire flamed up in Cook’s eyes and she grabbed one of the big soup pots, intending to scoop up the sodden cat and make it captive with the pot lid. But the soap-sudsy water that pooled on the floor got the better of her as she hurried toward the sink. Down she went with a loud THUMP! . . .