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

Wiscott · 02-12-2006, 01:56 PM

A dwarf saunters out of the night, into the subdued light of the lanterns. He is adorned in simple travelling clothes: a corslet, under linen and leather garments designed more to turn the wind than an axe. He rests a halberd upon his shoulder as he surveys the yard; the weapon is of simple, light make, so as to be easier to walk with. He wears no helmet, but prefers a cloak and hood of dark grey. His head is shaven, but for the braided brown hair of his beard.

The dwarf fills his mug -carried all the way from home in the Lonely Mountain- and chooses a seat by himself, removed from all the activity. After draining the beer, he takes out an old, much-used pipe and lights it. Sitting back and observing the activities of the patrons, he kicks off his worn boots and lets the grass soothe his sore feet. Ah, Baldin, it doesn't get much better than this, he thought to himself.

Koobdooga · 02-12-2006, 03:53 PM

Ibun greets Baldin

Ibun Lodestone leaned back in his chair, his feet propped on the Inn’s front porch railing, and followed the progress of the Dwarf in the dark grey cloak across the grassy sward. The fellow he noted had taken a seat at an out of the way table, and made himself at home.

Boots off! A pipe in one hand, and a mug of ale. And a decidedly satisfied look on his face.

Ibun stuffed his own now cold pipe in his vest pocket and fetched a pitcher of the dark-as-night ale from the cask he’d won earlier in the day. ‘Can’t be letting your mug get dry now, can we?’ he said as he approached the Dwarf’s table and offered to pour a refill. ‘Ibun Lodestone,’ he went on, ‘from Khazad-dûm.’

Lasbelinion · 02-12-2006, 04:16 PM

‘Dol Amroth! Why then you’ve come even farther than I!’ Callë took the offered seat and sat her plate and mug of ale before her. Taking up the small knife that hung at her belt, she took the wayward apple and cut it in two, offering half to Aniriel. ‘Might as well share it – it did seem to favor the both of us!’ she laughed.

‘I’ve come up from Dunland,’ she said. ‘Near where the River Isen runs into the Great Sea. Word had reached us of the High King and his new peace he’s made in the land. And that he’d begun to restore the old ruins north of here – the ones called Annuminas. We had many stories among my people how Elendil sailed from Numenor after the sinking of the island and founded a great city there.’

Callë took a bite of bread and cheese and chewed thoughtfully on it. ‘And now that there is peace in these lands, I would like to see it for my self.’

‘What about you, Aniriel? What brings you through the Halflings land?’

Wiscott · 02-12-2006, 05:43 PM

Baldin greets Ibun with a friendly smile as he pours himself some of the fine ale. He doesn't mind the interruption of his solitude; indeed, the pitcher of ale put him in just the mood for a friendly chat.

"Khazad-dum, ye say?" Baldin lifts an eyebrow in recognition and mild surprise. "Why, I myself come from the Lonely Mountain, and am in fact on a sort of pilgrimage, you might say. I've known some of the stout dwarves who accompanied Thorin Oakenshield to reclaim the mountain, as a young dwarf, and had got the itch to follow their own route back here to the Shire."

02-12-2006, 03:53 PM	#2
Koobdooga Animated Skeleton Join Date: Aug 2005 Posts: 33	Ibun greets Baldin Ibun Lodestone leaned back in his chair, his feet propped on the Inn’s front porch railing, and followed the progress of the Dwarf in the dark grey cloak across the grassy sward. The fellow he noted had taken a seat at an out of the way table, and made himself at home. Boots off! A pipe in one hand, and a mug of ale. And a decidedly satisfied look on his face. Ibun stuffed his own now cold pipe in his vest pocket and fetched a pitcher of the dark-as-night ale from the cask he’d won earlier in the day. ‘Can’t be letting your mug get dry now, can we?’ he said as he approached the Dwarf’s table and offered to pour a refill. ‘Ibun Lodestone,’ he went on, ‘from Khazad-dûm.’ __________________ Outside a dog, a book is man's best friend. Inside a dog, it's too dark to read. -- Groucho Marx

02-12-2006, 04:16 PM	#3
Lasbelinion Pile O'Bones Join Date: Apr 2005 Posts: 24	‘Dol Amroth! Why then you’ve come even farther than I!’ Callë took the offered seat and sat her plate and mug of ale before her. Taking up the small knife that hung at her belt, she took the wayward apple and cut it in two, offering half to Aniriel. ‘Might as well share it – it did seem to favor the both of us!’ she laughed. ‘I’ve come up from Dunland,’ she said. ‘Near where the River Isen runs into the Great Sea. Word had reached us of the High King and his new peace he’s made in the land. And that he’d begun to restore the old ruins north of here – the ones called Annuminas. We had many stories among my people how Elendil sailed from Numenor after the sinking of the island and founded a great city there.’ Callë took a bite of bread and cheese and chewed thoughtfully on it. ‘And now that there is peace in these lands, I would like to see it for my self.’ ‘What about you, Aniriel? What brings you through the Halflings land?’ __________________ In the twilight of autumn the ship sailed out of Mithlond,until the seas of the Bent World fell away beneath it,& the winds of the round sky troubled it no more,& borne upon the high airs above the mists of the world it passed into the Ancient West…

02-12-2006, 01:56 PM	#1
Wiscott Pile O'Bones Join Date: Feb 2006 Location: Under the Sea Posts: 11	A dwarf saunters out of the night, into the subdued light of the lanterns. He is adorned in simple travelling clothes: a corslet, under linen and leather garments designed more to turn the wind than an axe. He rests a halberd upon his shoulder as he surveys the yard; the weapon is of simple, light make, so as to be easier to walk with. He wears no helmet, but prefers a cloak and hood of dark grey. His head is shaven, but for the braided brown hair of his beard. The dwarf fills his mug -carried all the way from home in the Lonely Mountain- and chooses a seat by himself, removed from all the activity. After draining the beer, he takes out an old, much-used pipe and lights it. Sitting back and observing the activities of the patrons, he kicks off his worn boots and lets the grass soothe his sore feet. Ah, Baldin, it doesn't get much better than this, he thought to himself.

02-12-2006, 05:43 PM	#4
Wiscott Pile O'Bones Join Date: Feb 2006 Location: Under the Sea Posts: 11	Baldin greets Ibun with a friendly smile as he pours himself some of the fine ale. He doesn't mind the interruption of his solitude; indeed, the pitcher of ale put him in just the mood for a friendly chat. "Khazad-dum, ye say?" Baldin lifts an eyebrow in recognition and mild surprise. "Why, I myself come from the Lonely Mountain, and am in fact on a sort of pilgrimage, you might say. I've known some of the stout dwarves who accompanied Thorin Oakenshield to reclaim the mountain, as a young dwarf, and had got the itch to follow their own route back here to the Shire."