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Visit The *EVEN NEWER* Barrow-Downs Photo Page |
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#1 |
Ghost Prince of Cardolan
Join Date: Mar 2004
Location: The end of the world as we know it. I feel fine, incidentally.
Posts: 500
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Credit to Don McLean
Hallien's booted foot tapped rhythmically against the leg of the chair. The instrument-- it couldn't really be called a lute anymore; she had added too many extra strings over the years-- was fully tuned and ready to play.
She leaned over the instrument's hollow body, her head nodding in time to her foot. After four beats, she started to play. No time can pass your sight unseen, No moment steals away unfound. Lifetime lived in such a dream, Floats like a feather to the ground. And for the first time I've been seeing The things I'd never notice, without you. And for the first time I'm discovering The things I used to treasure, about you. The birds like leaves on Winterwood, Sing hopeful songs on dismal days. They've learned to live life as they should. They are at peace with nature's ways. You are as natural as the night, And all that springs from you is good. And the children born beneath your light, Are like the birds on Winterwood. And for the first time I've been seeing The things I'd never notice, without you. And for the first time I'm discovering The things I used to treasure, about you.
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"Wide ne bith wel," cwaeth se the geheirde on helle hriman. |
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#2 |
Messenger of Hope
Join Date: Jun 2005
Location: In a tiny, insignificant little town in one of the many States.
Posts: 5,076
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Wren runs into Penn
Wren and Tim came out of their search fruitless. The music and songs had continued, more people had come, and more dancers had started to dance, but there seemed to be no sign of Woody or Hanson. The brother and sister finally collapsed on the bench of one of the tables. Tim leaned back on his elbows against the table and scanned the growing company. Wren sat forward her hands folded in her lap, looking out eagerly as well.
“I’m famished,” Tim finally said, sitting up abruptly. “Let’s go eat something.” “Alright, let’s!” Wren agreed, bouncing up onto her feet. They threaded their way through the dancing and standing people, Wren going a few paces ahead. “Oh, Tim, wait and see what we’ve made!” She turned half around to talk, still going forward at half a skipping pace. “We were busy all afternoon, cooking and baking - it was wonderful! Ginger let me help with - ooomph!” The collision with someone stopped her excitement short and Tim tried to stifle his laugh. Wren regained her footing and looked up into the smiling, merry face of a young woman. The stranger had her hands on Wren’s shoulders to keep her on her feet, and she was almost laughing herself. “I-I’m terribly sorry,” Wren said, surprised and slightly embarrassed. “Wasn’t watching where I was going.” She looked at the lady again, admiring openly the soft, flowing blue dress. “I’m sorry,” she said again. “We were going to go get something to eat.”
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A young man who wishes to remain a sound atheist cannot be too careful of his reading. - C.S. Lewis |
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#3 |
Flame of the Ainulindalë
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Without his long, slightly gleaming red hair, Rían Sundry might have been able to make the few feets from the door to the desk quite unnoticed. Not that he was a master sneaker, or thief, or anything of that sort. Rían Sundry was just an ordinary-looking, thirty-or-something man, who looked weary enough to imply that he had been on the road for a couple of days. And as the Inn seemed to host an abundance of beings from races other than hobbits, he wasn’t even standing taller of the locals any more than half of the other crowd already did.
So his entrance was noted, a couple of nods and some raised eyebrows, for his hair. But that was about it. He was used to it, and happy with that. He was not a man who desired to be the center of attention anyhow, and his hair had made him learn the trick to be quite gray and elusive. Of which the second attribute indeed fitted his character quite well. After requesting Ruby for a room and an ale, he started looking around him with a promise of a possible room, and quite an actual pint in his hand. He didn’t especially love elves – he did not hate them or anything of that sort either. They were just the queer folks he didn’t quite undestand. Not that he would have known one personally, but still. Just approaching the ladies scared him nowadays too much to even think about. Still, a pint drank alone was even below the worst standards of a part-time-loner. Happily, he saw two men talking, or which was better, being quiet for a moment, just a couple of feets away. So he walked to the table where Farael and Bredan were having their meal, introduced himself as “Reddie” Sundry, and asked, whether the seat beside them was vacant. Last edited by Nogrod; 01-24-2006 at 04:36 PM. |
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#4 |
Ghost Prince of Cardolan
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Naria rubbed her eyes, straightened her dress and walked downstairs into the pub. She turned to go outside when she noticed two new faces with Farael. "Hmmm, I wonder if he's here for the party?" she wondered. She went to make a move to introduce herself but found a panic in her stomach and decided that maybe she should go outside for some air and food.
Once outside she felt much better and wondered where Penn had gotten herself too. There were quite a few more people than when she had gone for a nap and excitement filled her. Naria went over to a table of cakes, cookies and pies and helped herself to some delicious sweets. She washed it down with some murky looking water and decided that maybe she should go and introduce herself after all. On her way over to the pub, Naria grabbed a cup and poured herself some ale or liquid courage. She went up the stairs to the inn and hesitated just slightly before opening the door. She walked inside and lifted her cup to her mouth and realized that it was empty. "I must have been thirsty." she murmured. It made another excuse to prolong her introduction so she went over to Ruby and asked for another pint. Naria was starting to feel the effect of the first ale since she had not had any drink since her departure. She thought to herself "maybe I should take a seat" She shuffled over to some stools that were lined up against the wall, took one out of its place and went to sit down. With some splintering of wood and a thud; Naria found herself flat out on the inn floor. The three men who were having some conversation quickly looked over and couldn't help but snicker at her unfortunate predicament. Naria, feeling quite silly quickly got up and introduced herself. |
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#5 |
Shade of Carn Dûm
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Uuquettanoer "Silent Smith of Solitude"
Aidwain Longleaf and the other two elves didn't here Uuquettanoer. Laughter from one of stories being told covered his long introduction.
Uuquettanoer was used to it. He always was shy around strangers; he would always make a long speech-like introduction. So he slowly walked away, a bit embarassed. He took some more of his own drink, more of the River-Water, and took a seat at the bar. The night's not over yet, he though. Perhaps I could strike up a conversation with a local, they would certainly be happy to tell me the date... |
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#6 |
Shade of Carn Dûm
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"Gondor! Well I never. What's it like?"
Ariane smiled briefly for a moment, temptation to ask to be excused for just a bare moment to refill her cup rising. Spent far too long there to bear entire appreciation for the country, she thought. I miss Eriador, the Breelands... "It's tall." A grin crossed her face, and she stared forlornly at the bottom of her now empty glass of water, an oxymoron in expression to say the least. But she carried on. "Oh, it's a lovely country. I personally have a preference to these lands; quieter and smaller though they may seem, I prefer that. The Gondorians are tall, dark-haired men, it seems. The type with the eyes that can bite into your soul. The buildings are thick stone, rising up to greet the skies above Minas Tirath—although of course I was not there during the war, living in one of the outlying villiages, hardly of merit of course—but the city is great. Yet it seemed so cold, in so many places, striken with fear and a continual need to reach for the top. Not so innocent, though indeed there were places where things were... normal." Ariane paused and drew in a breath. She had felt almost uncomfortable in Gondor, as reputed as it was among most. She preferred the simple easy pleasures of being in the Shire while a party went on and people danced, she realized. It was so much easier to handle. Safer, they had said, she remembered. Safer, but perhaps not better. |
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#7 |
Ghost Prince of Cardolan
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The door of the inn opened and a young girl with long black hair entered. She stopped on the threshold surveying the people there with a quizzical look. She seemed to be carrying a debate inside herself. After some moments she shrugged her shoulders and went to sit at an empty table.
She continued gazing at the wide variety of people with a look of intrest mingled with uneasiness. Never had she seen so many races under one roof. Deep inside herself she knew that there was a certain harmony in what she was seeing, but for the time being she could not grasp it. All she could percieve was how unfamiliar everithing was to her. She know realised- as she was sitting there, plucking up the courage to go and ask the innkeeper for something to drink and a room- how far away was Dol Amroth, her own home, and how wide was the realm of Arda. The thought seemed to scare her, and she felt for a moment like runing away. Where to, she could not tell, but she wanted to be away from those merry people that where talking and singing, that seemed to belong to one another and to the place also. But then she relaxed, shook her head and muttered to herself: "Come what may is all that can be said now. And you cannot say that you are blameless in this, Aniriel." Last edited by Dimturiel; 02-09-2006 at 12:02 PM. |
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#8 |
Everlasting Whiteness
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Astilwen felt almost that it would have been better not to have asked about Gondor, as the smile on Ariane's face had faded and she was now staring moodily into her glass. As she had been talking she had sounded unhappy, as if her memories of the place were very bad. And her description didn't paint the city in a good light either.
"Was it so bad to live there? I thought that the king was improving things?" Ariane turned to her with a sad smile, and seemed to be pondering her answer. Wanting to give her the time to do so, Astilwen picked up both their glasses and disappeared back into the crowd. Fighting through all the people without the help of Ariane's height proved difficult, and it was more than a few minutes before she returned. Collapsing into her chair she passed Ariane a glass, and took a deep drink from her own while waiting for the other woman to start speaking.
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“If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world.” |
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#9 |
Ghost Prince of Cardolan
Join Date: Nov 2005
Location: In hospitals, call rooms and (rarely) my apartment.
Posts: 1,538
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"Well, welcome Mr. Sundry and feel free to join in! we were just admiring the greatness of the people of The Shire... and the food they prepare!" Farael chuckled, unsure if such bout of friendlyness was his own or if he should blame the ales he had consumed. "Where do you hail from and how did you get to this lovely place? I am Farael of Gondor and sitting with me is Bredan of Gondor. If you tell me that you are from Gondor as well I shall start wondering if I am not soon to realize that I never left the white city at all!" Yes, it was the ale speaking, but Farael did not mind it at all.
Telu had dissapeared into the crowd again and something in Bredan's words had lifted his spirits higher even than what the ale had achieved. Farael was happy and glad to be there, even if it was by chance that he found the Inn.
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I prepared Explosive Runes this morning. |
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