The Green Dragon Inn #11 - The Last Chapter

[piosenniel]

~*~ GREEN DRAGON INN FACTS ~*~

The Green Dragon Inn is located in Bywater, just off the Great East-West Road.

It is the 4th Age, year 12. By the Shire Calendar it is year 1433 S.R. (Shire Reckoning).

King Elessar is on the throne of the Reunited Kingdom of Arnor and Gondor.

Mirkwood has been reclaimed by the Elves and is now called Eryn Lasgalen.

Paladdin Took, Pippin’s father, is Thain of the Shire. (Thain is an honorary title for the military leader of the Shire. The title has been held in the Took Family since the position was first established in 3rd Age 1979 with Bucca of the Marish as First Thain.) Paladdin Took dies in year 13, and will be succeeded by his son, Peregrin, ‘Pippin’, Took.

Samwise Gamgee is Mayor of the Shire, having succeeded Will Whitfoot in 1427 S.R.

The Innkeeper, in the Green Dragon Inn of this forum, is: Aman – a young woman from Rohan.

Before her, the Innkeeper was Piosenniel, and before her it was Dwarin, the Dwarf.

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+

Other ongoing characters in the Inn:

Ruby Brown, Hobbit – not married – server and maid

Buttercup Brownlock, Hobbit – not married – kitchen assistant and maid

Vinca Bunce, widowed, Inn Cook (character played by Piosenniel)

Derufin, General handyman/jack-of-all-trades round the Inn; Man from southwestern Gondor (played by Envinyatar) - AWAY AT PRESENT

Zimzi (Zimziran), wife to Derufin; a skilled potter from Lindon(played by Pio) - AWAY AT PRESENT

Meri - Stablemaster

Tim Woodlock - Stableboy; Wren - his younger sister: humans, originally from Breeland (characters played by Folwren)

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+

Ongoing characters from outside the Inn:

Halfred Whitfoot – local Shiriff from Bywater and Postmaster for this area of the Shire; his pony’s name is Dumpling.

_____________________________________________

Please Note:

No 'SAVES' are allowed in the Inn (except for modifications needed to be made by the Moderators or Innkeeper).

With the exception of the Innkeeper and the Moderators, no OOC (Out Of Character) comments are allowed in the Inn.

Only the Innkeeper, Amanaduial, or the Moderators move the timeline for the Inn forward.

Visitors to the Inn will need to read the posts that come before theirs to get an idea of what time it is in the Shire, what the weather is like, and what is happening.

No violence is allowed in the Inn or on Inn grounds.

Please be familiar with the rules for the Inn and Games in The Red Book of Westmarch, the first topic in the Shire.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

About Elves in Shire RPG's:

Please use this description from Tolkien when crafting an Elf:

Return of the King – Appendix F: Tolkien’s description for the Quendi (The Speakers) – the name given to the Elves by themselves after they first awoke in Middle-earth.

“They were a race high and beautiful, the older Children of the world, and among them the Eldar were as Kings, who now are gone: the People of the Great Journey, the People of the Stars. They were tall, fair of skin and grey-eyed, though their locks were dark, save in the golden house of Finrod; and their voices had more melodies than any mortal voice that is now heard . . .”

Please use this as a guideline for describing your Elven character’s appearance.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

EVERYONE

Please be familiar with The Red Book of Westmarch which gives the rules for posting in the Shire RPG's and in The Green Dragon Inn.

Thanks!

Piosenniel, Shire Moderator

[Rose]

Rose heaved a silent sigh of relief as Lilly spoke with their host. He seemed a bit too --- well, “interested” in looking the both of them over. ‘I should have brought Hamlin with me, insisted that he come,’ she thought to herself. Hamlin was her oldest brother – thirty years to her twenty-five. He’d begged off when she’d asked him to come, saying he and their father would be moving the sheep with their new lambs to another pasture.

‘You’re old enough to see about your business in Bywater,’ he’d told her. ‘Just keep to the main path as you go; the goodwives keep an eye on the road as well as their house and little ones. You’ll be safe enough.’

She sniffed at the remembered assurance. ‘Oh safe enough while my feet were treading down the path!’ she thought to her self. ‘But here I am, in the Dragon, my feet tucked under my chair. And I feel like I’m about to be pounced on.’

It would be rude she thought to talk just with Miz Greengage, leaving the two Chubb cousins with nothing but themselves to talk to. Rose screwed up her courage and turned a friendly face toward the two brothers. ‘Fatty, is it?’ she said to the thin lad on her right, then nodded to the one just beyond him. ‘And Gerdy, yes? How are you enjoying the Green Dragon? Or have you been here before?’ She thought it a safe enough pair of questions to ask. And as she finished speaking, she sat back in her chair, waiting politely for one of them to carry on with an answer.

[Farael]

"Well, my bearded friends," Farael said, smiling at the dwarves "Gimli son of Gloin fought brabely alongside The King. That alone is worth mentioning but he fought a war it was not his own. And he did save quite a few lifes. I can even tell you, there is this cousin of a friend of mine whose father swears saw Gimli save his friend's life just outside the walls of the city. And I'm afraid I never got to wander around Helm's Deep during my stay in Rohan. My father..." Farael stopped himself "let's just say I did not do any sight-seeing. Just remained in the city doing "guard duty"... guard duty? but there's not much to guard against, not in Rohan, not in Gondor!" He made silence, thinking how it was that once and again his father had interfered and kept him 'safe' when all he wanted was a little adventure. But now he was far from home and far enough that not even his father could reach him.

"And to answer your other question Master Dwarf, I lost the trail of those bandits two nights ago. I shall keep looking for them but I am also looking for any company that may need my skills on their quest, which ever that may be. I can defend myself with the sword and I am an excelent archer" He puffed up his chest while thinking about his archery skills. "If you will believe what I say about myself, of course" he added, although that token of modesty was clearly fake.

Farael stopped talking - at times it seemed he could talk without breathing- and took a good drink of his ale. Settling down a little and remembering the dwarves might not be all too interested in how he had outscored his captain on an archery contest during his time in the Gondor Army, he helped himself to some more Ale and asked, while filling the dwarve's mugs as well

"Don't mind me if I ask too much Ibun, you mentioned you were sent by your King on a certain task.... yet I can't recall if you said what this task may be"

[Valier]

She knew it must be around here somewhere."Ah Ha," She said to Herself. "The Green Dragon,this is where the great Merry n......" As she trailed off into silent thought.She smiled,looked down and opened a flap on a bag she carried at her side. "Are you guys hungry?"... No answer came from the bag just rustling."Oh you're sleeping,You're always sleeping!" She closed the flap and entered the Inn.


At first glance it seemed a little disappointing,but cozy.She decided,she might stay a few nights,just in case something exciting happened,that she wouldn't want to miss. She strolled to the bar."Bartender may I trouble you for the largest ale you've got.She thanked the Bartender rather curtly while downing her mug,spilling on her front as she drank.She sat on a stool and had a look around.

[Primrose Bolger]

Ginger noticed the young woman at the bar had spilled some of her drink down her front. The Hobbit fetched a clean cloth from behind the bar and brought around to where the guest stood.

‘Excuse me, miss,’ she said, plucking the woman’s sleeve. ‘That ale stains something awful!’ She held out the rag to the woman. ‘You can sop most of it out with this, if you wish.’

The bag the guest carried at her side seemed to rustle quietly. Curious, Ginger let her gaze slide down to it. ‘Oh my goodness!’ she exclaimed as the bag seemed to move just a bit, from within. ‘What’s in there?’ she blurted out, pointing at the bag.

[Undómë]

Telu barges in on the two Dwarves and the man from Gondor


‘So much for the patience of Elves,’ thought Teluyaviel as she fidgeted on her chair. Her brother, Tindomion, had abandoned her to see to some business in the stables concerning their horses. And the other guests in the Inn who had been such pleasant company for the morning meal had gone, too. The dark haired Elf maiden twisted a lock of hair about the fingers of her right hand and looked about the room for someone interesting to talk to.

A conversation at a nearby table caught her interest, and it was not long before she was listening in, her keen ears picking up the exchange of information between the two Dwarves and the young man.

She looked him over covertly, wondering how old he was and how long he’d been away from home and was he soon to return. There was talk of Orcs and bandits; of blades and bows and quests, or so she thought of the adventures the three companions were speaking of. She understood from what the young man said that he was from Gondor.

‘Pardon me,’ she said, drawing near the table where Ibun, Fror, and Farael sat. Her fair cheeks reddened a little at her own boldness. ‘My name is Teluyaviel, a guest here also at the Inn. I couldn’t help but overhear that you are from Gondor.’ Her dark grey eyes looked questioningly at Farael. ‘Would you mind if I asked – have you visited the new Ithilien, since the Elves of Woodland Realm settled there? What is it like?’

[Koobdooga]

Ibun stood as Elf finished speaking. ‘Ibun Lodestone here, m’lady Teluyaviel. Very pleased to meet you. Won’t you have a seat here with us?’ He hastened to pull out the empty chair for her. He had not had the opportunity to meet many Elves in his lifetime. And those he did were for the most part Elven men, seeking to trade for the gems and fine metals Ibun and his kin mined.

He was quite taken by the fair lady. Her long dark hair seemed to glimmer as she moved. He had seen such glimmerings before he thought. It was as if he looked once again into the night-dark waters of the Kheled-zaram that stood before the eastern gate of Khazad-dum and in it saw the stars reflected and twinkling on the shining waters. Recalling himself from this imagery, he bade her take a seat and asked if they might get her some refreshment.

[Folwren]

Tim, after inviting the hobbit ladies over to Fordogrim’s table and fetching them chairs, and quite excused himself from the group and slipped outside the inn to make sure that all was well in the stables. He found Meri the stablemaster fairly red in the face from hobbling around and Tim felt a pang of guilt when he saw him.

“I’m here, Mr. Meriadoc,” he said. “You’d better take a seat and rest that foot of yours. I’m sorry for being gone so long. Mr. Fordogrim had me in for lunch, you see.”

“Well, at least you’re back now,” the hobbit replied rather shortly. He took Tim’s advise and seated himself on a barrel just outside the barn door. “There’s another horse just recently come in,” he went on, pulling a pipe out of his vest pocket and then searching for a match. “Make certain that he’s properly cared for. I couldn’t do more than put him in the stall. He was too big for me to groom with just one hand.”

“I’ll deal with it, don’t worry,” Tim replied. He turned at once and had just stepped into the barn door when he saw his sister emerge from the kitchen door with something under her arm. He paused half a second, looking at her, and then proceeded into the dimmer shadows of the barn to do his job with the horses.

[Farael]

In spite of himself, Farael gasped as the elf approached his table, appearing seemingly out of nowhere. He had been too busy talking to the dwarves to notice this lady elf listening in on his conversation. He had actually been to Ithilien once, sent by his father to make a business arrangement and seen a few elves yet he did not expect to find one in “the wilderness” as he thought of places any further than Rohan from home.

Ibun didn’t make things any easier from him, as he offered her a seat and refreshment even before he was able to mutter a soft “Yes, m’lady… I have been to Ithilien. It really is a lovely city.” Then he looked into her deep, grey eyes and blushed deeply. He gathered himself, hoping Teluyaviel would not have noticed how flustered he had become. “whe..” he had to clear his throat before going on “where are you from?” and he added to himself “From my dreams, I would guess” then he smiled at her, forgetting all about the dwarves for the time being.

[Valier]

Startled from her daydream.Penn looked down to see a Hobbit pulling at her sleeve offering her a cloth to sop up the mess. Penn's face turned red as she looked at her front.She was about to thank her, when she blurted out "Oh my goodness!" and asked what was in the bag.

Penn was reluctant to tell her of her companions,for fear of not being allowed to stay."Don't worry."Penn said."They are harmless...Most of the time."Then the woman got a strange far off look like she was deep in thought,then shrugged and laughed reached into the bag and pulled out 2 fuzzy creatures that were fast asleep."These are my friends.Mer and Pip,they're Ferrets." Penn waited to see the Hobbits reaction.

[Undómë]

‘A lovely city.’ Telu’s brow furrowed at the man’s answer. But then, of course, he was a Man, he would notice the city part, wouldn’t he. ‘I was wondering, though, did you see the gardens that are said to be there, now? I had heard the Elves of the Woodland realm had made and maintain them.’

Her voice trailed off. Though his gaze seemed set on her, she thought perhaps his mind wandered from her questions. The hint of a smile played at the corner of her lips.

Telu pulled her cloak close about her and brought her hood forward, thrusting her face deep in shadow. ‘Is this better?’ she asked. ‘Is it less……distracting?’

[Primrose Bolger]

‘Ferrets!’ Ginger eyed the two sleeping animals. To be honest, they looked so sweet and peaceful. Her fingers itched to touch them. ‘Best not wake them,’ a little voice in the back of her mind warned her.

Just this past spring a trio of ferrets had got into her family’s henhouse and ate the eggs beneath the hens. Two of her mother’s prize layers had been dragged off, too; and a number of the little chicks killed.

‘Where did you get them? Are they tame?’ Ginger asked the woman. She thought about what Cook might say if she knew there were ferrets in the Inn. ‘What do they eat?’

[Valier]

Farael's boot is attacked by a ferret on the loose

As Penn held out the ferrets,she noticed the hobbits expression.She had seen it before.The hobbit wanted to touch them,but was reluctant."Where did you get them?"She asked. "What do they eat?" "UM I found them when they were very young abandoned by their mother I suppose,and they eat pretty much everything when they're not sleeping." Penn placed the seemingly sleeping ferrets back in the bag.

"It won't be a problem me having them here will it?" At that very moment a flurry came from the bag and out popped a white head ,Pip as the creature was called quickly ran down Penn's leg and on to the floor and under all the feet.

"OH that bugger!" Penn exclaimed as she too got on her hands and knees and turned her head this way and that,making a soft clicking noise."He does this all the time."Penn exclamed to the Hobbit."Dont worry he won't hurt anyone...I hope." "I guess he's found something he likes."

Penn crawled clumsily on looking for her friend when she spotted a white fleck out the corner of her eye,it seemed Pip had found what he was looking for..a shiny boot buckle belonging to a man that sat at a table with two Dwarves and an elf. Penn intent on catching the ferret crawled right up almost under the table and..

"AH HA got you!" but when she went to lift him he still had a hold on the man's boot and was now shaking his head fiercely side to side. Penn looked at the tables participants."Umm so sorry...He seems to like your boot ,she said to the man,Im Penn and this rascal is Pip,give him a minute and he should let go...Maybe." Penn smirked and waited for they're reactions.

[Farael]

Farael was captivated by the sound of the voice of the elf. If her beauty was striking her soft, melodious voice was too captivating to resist. He noticed she had said something about some gardens and he was ready to reply that he was not a big fan of gardens but he had seen some very nice plants growing around when many things happened at once.

First, the elf seemed to notice he was not really concentrating on the conversation they were having and she pulled her hood forward, trying to joke around- Farael thought afterwards- which only made things all the more embarassing for him.

Then he tried to stand up and bow to this, the most beautiful of elves and explain to her it was her voice and not her face which had cast a spell on him. At the same time he felt something tugging at his boot which almost made him loose balance. He sat down again heavily to find a small animal - was it a ferret? - who had bitten his boot and was now shaking its head as if trying to tear some for himself. Holding the ferret now was the lady he had seen walk into the Inn just a few minutes before and this all was just too much for the young man from Gondor.

His first reaction was to yell out in frustration but being two ladies present he managed to let out a chuckle instead. It was a minute before he could compose himself and stand up as he had meant to. The lady had already apologised to him and introduced his animal as 'Pip' and when Farael turned to look at Teluyaviel she still had her hood on and he could not see her eyes. The little animal was now on the lady's hands so Farael bowed politely and smiled at the elf and the woman.

"I beg you forgive me, for this has been all very unexpected. First of all, m'lady, pip and Teluyaviel, I should introduce myself. My name is Farael son of Hadar from Gondor. I beg you forgive me but you two, or should I say three?" Farael looked at Pip "have caught me off guard. I would appreciate it m'lady elf if you let me see you while we are talking. I'm afraid it's your voice which surprised me the most and not your eyes, although I must say they are beautiful. As for miss Penn and lil' Pip, do not worry about my boots, they are old and worn, a little bite won't do much damage to them. I think we still have one last chair so feel free to join us if you'd like."

Having all this off his chest, Farael told Penn about what Teluyaviel had asked him and went on to answer that even though he had seen some very pretty gardens, it was the buildings which he liked the most. He admitted that he liked more the things made by skill than the ones that could grow by themselves.

[Rune Son of Bjarne]

Frór had remained silent during the last parts of the conversation with Ibun and Farael. He did not know what to think of this man from Gondor he seemed quite disturbed and strange. The reactions of Farael when the elf aproached and the ferret attacked had not helped, "maybe they are all like that" Frór mumbeld to him self.

Frór now put the mug of ale to his mouth and startet drinking, but he somehow mannaged to get a part of his beard in the mouth too. Now allthough he was not that old he had an impressive beard, the result of the incident was of course that the dwarf startet coughing very loud and he allmost tumbeld off his chair.

Frór now looked around and realised that the people around the table was all staring at him, this made him very uncomftable. Not only because he did not like the atention, but allso because it was given to him by an elf. Frór had been quite content with the fact that he still had to jutney through the Shire before incounter the elves. Now there was one in front of him and he could not just ignore her as he had first planned.

Frór looked at Teluyaviel and bowes as he said: "Frór of the Iron Hills to your service lady Teluyaviel, of the Woodland Realm I guess". When he stood up again he was once again facing her, but he quicly turned against Penn and intruduced him self to her. This was done so that he would not seem unpolite, but mostley because he was uncomftable facing the elf.

Frór sad down on his chair and finnished his ale beeing carefull not to get his beard in the mouth. He then turned to Farael and said "please continue with your story of the apperently fait Ithillien."

[Valier]

Penn stood for some time staring at the occupants of the table,before she realised her mouth was hanging agape.she quickly recovered."Excuse my intrusion,Pip here is a bit of a thief when it comes to shiny things,but I've something to keep him occupied". Penn withdrew a shiny coin,and thrust it and Pip bag into the bag.

The man politely asked if she would like to sit.Penn was embarrassed at the attention she was recieving,looked towards the bar to see if she could see the Hobbit she was just recently speaking with,she could not.I must remember to thank her later.Penn sat quickly and quietly down on a chair,as the company resumed there chatting.

Penn was thinking that she should properly introduce herself,but how? She had already made a fool of herself.Then she noticed the man was sitting with an ELF,and a DWARF.Penn was over come with her strange imagination.."Oh!". Penn exclaimed."I should be more polite, my name is Penncairiel but you can call me Penn she explained to the table."I've met Farael and Fror briefly but I did not get your name."

Penn stared at the Elf ,she could not believe she was about to actually speak words with an Elf,Let alone a Dwarf introducing himself not in her wildest imaginings would she believe it,and she imagined far too often as her father had always told her.Penn tried to be patient and not fidget but those daydreams were threatning to emerge,so she bit her lip to keep focus and waited.

[Captain Grishnahk]

Between the clatter and banging of drinks and orders being served, people laughing, talking, and looking at ferrets a snarl was heard from outside. Many ignored it. The people sitting close to the door heard the thick jingle of loosely armored legs hitting the ground. The door soon swung open, revealing a hooded creature with a black cape. A shadow passed over his entire face, unrevealing his true orcish features. The orc was well built, and showed that he wanted no trouble with the peaceful hobbits, elves, or ferrets by placing his razor sharp scimitar and his heavy orcish axe by the door; keeping a woodened black crossbow under his cloak. Beneath his black cloak he was clad in steel armor blackened with fire, with leather slabs in-between the steel plates. Mud was caked on his black leather boots, showing that he had traveled from afar off, because it had not been muddy in the Shire for a few weeks.


Once he closed the door he stumbled forward before stopping himself, he was slightly dizzy from the cursed sun that was out, and he soon found a shadowed area with a booth into which he slid. Once the guests saw the warg out the door, they guessed what their new visitor was.
“Cursed sun,” he murmured eyeing the window shades. His beady eyes shifted from side to side, and soon his long fingers grasped the curtain and slid them halfway shut. He sighed with relief.
“What might I get you, sir?” said a hobbit waiter who stood a few feet from the table. Grishnahk did not raise his head; he only asked if they served raw meat.
“Sorry sir, but we only serve cooked meat!” he chuckled thinking the strange man was joking, “we don’t want to gross our customers out!” Grishnahk raised his head and looked at the hobbit with his deathly gaze, soon frightening him away. He then eyed the ferrets a few tables off with a new sort of look.

[Undómë]

Teluyaviel’s eyes narrowed at the sight of the Orc. Powerful indeed must be the Peace of the High King in Gondor that such creatures should now roam freely. She drew back the hood of her cloak and stared fully at the one-time foe of the Elves. ‘How should she think of him now?’ she wondered to herself.

‘My name is Teluyaviel, m’lady,’ she spoke aloud to Penn, turning her gaze back to the woman. ‘Or Telu, if the other is too much a mouthful,’ she said with a grin. ‘I do find many whose tongues trip over the longer name.’ Telu nodded toward the Orc.

‘Perhaps you had better keep your little friends close about you, Penn. The Orc looks hungry. And he’s been eyeing little Pip.’

[Farael]

Everyone in Farael's table was still introducing themselves - sometimes he would think people liked to make all those longs introductions rather than actually talk - when the door opened and a dark figure walked in, almost stumbling all the way to a dark corner. Immediately Farael grabbed the long knife he always kept on his boot, luckily not the same boot lil' Pip had been so happily chewing at, yet he was not sure why he had done so. Then Teluyaviel confirmed what he had feared all along. It was an orc! What was an orc doing here? Should he attack it, even here at the Inn? then he realized that the dwarves and the elf in his table were likely better in fighting than himself, at least while having only a knife.

With all these thoughts in his mind, Farael looked around for a clue on what to do next. He had only been at the Inn for less than a day and he did not know if Orcs were actually welcomed in its grounds. Something in the looks of Teluyaviel told him they were not.

[Captain Grishnahk]

A small click was heard under the table as Grishnahk slid a bolt into the wooded capsule of his crossbow. He knew that the people of the inn were becoming conspicuous of his presence. But he had to hide somewhere where the hunters would not look. His beady eyes stared at Farael when he was not looking, and when he did look, Grishnahk turned his head down. Grishnahk was not made Captain of the Dark Tower for no reason. He was skilled with weapons, and was a higher educated orc. He was the apprentice of Grishnakh before his disappearance when looking for The One Ring. But there was something different about Grishnahk. He had been banished from Mordor a few years back, and was sentenced to death due to his unnatural orcish behavior.

He was much like a man, having the choices between good and evil. Grishnahk was struggling with his orcish and elvish soul. He knew he was meant to do evil, and that was his only excuse for doing so. But he was also equipped with a conscience, and that was his main downfall.

Grishnahk rubbed his eyes, he had to leave soon before his death occurred. But he had to wait until the sun set.

Grishnahk is sent a pitcher of ale

Barnaby wondered at the menacing fellow who sat at a table not far from his. He heard the word ‘Orc’ whispered about the room and gave the creature an appraising look. He certainly looked dangerous enough, and he had brought in some horrible looking weapons, sharp weapons. And well used by the looks of them.

The Hobbit’s eyes slid to the Orc’s muddy boots. ‘Been traveling. And a far piece, I think from the looks of it.’

Now Barnaby knew that traveling for any length of time made him quite hungry. And thirsty, too. He fished about in his little coin purse and drew out a few coins. Calling over one of the servers, he asked him to take the new fellow a pitcher of ale to slake his thirst and a wedge of cheese with some warm Shire rolls to take the edge off his hunger.

Having never met an Orc or heard much about them, Barnaby had no idea what it was exactly that they ate or drank, for that matter. But he figured a little of the Inn’s good food and ale couldn’t hurt. The server hurried away, and was soon warily standing at the Orc’s table, explaining as he sat the pitcher and platter of cheese and buns on the table that “that fellow over there had sent them along . . .”

[Pivli]

Miz Violet considers the Orc and comes to some Hobbitish conclusions

Violet Greengage grew tired of the small talk at her table. Her old bones did not enjoy sitting for any length of time on the hard wooden chairs of the Inn. She had left her little seat cushion on the cart seat and now she wished she had remembered to bring it in. She fidgeted for a few more moments on her seat, then stood up, leaning heavily on her blackthorn cane as she eased her old joints into a more proper alignment. None of those at her table paid the least bit of attention to the old Hobbit granny, so busy were they in talking among themselves.

Her back had been to the door when the Orc entered, and as she turned around, intending to go out to the stable for her cushion, she saw the newcomer to the Inn. ‘My, my!’ she thought to herself. ‘He’s got quite a sunburn, now hasn’t he. Fierce looking fellow. Nice hefty build, though,’ she murmured approvingly. ‘Stoutly built as a Hobbit. Well, an oversized Hobbit. But still he looks like one to appreciate his meals.’

She hobbled slowly toward him, her knees creaking in protest at their being used. He was dressed all in black, she noted, and the expression on his face seemed rather a sad one. Or so she thought. It was hard to tell. It looked, too, as if he might have been some sort of soldier, what with his beat up looking face and weapons and such. She considered his black clothing once again - perhaps someone in his family had died and he was in mourning.

‘Sorry for your loss, young man,’ she offered sympathetically as she was just beginning to pass his table and head for the door. ‘Hope you’re feeling better soon.’

[Undómë]

Her ears caught the muffled click from beneath the table where the Orc sat. He had a hidden weapon, and from the sound of it a crossbow. She was familiar with the sound, her father having taken her to a number of fetes in Harlindon where men with such weapons had tried to out do each other in contests of skill. They could not match the distance of the long bows of the Elven archers, but for the force with which they hit their target, and a savage force she thought it, they could not themselves be matched.

Telu noted Farael had fetched a great long knife he had hidden in his boot. Did he think to defend against the Orc with it? The distance from the Orc’s table to the man’s heart was not that far. He would be dead even before the knife left his hand.

And here she sat, no weapons of her own. Think! she told herself. Before this fair-faced one of the Edain has no chance to grow old and enjoy his grandchildren.

Her brow furrowed for a moment, then smoothed out as a small diversion occurred to her. She leaned forward, toward Farael, and laid her hand lightly on his arm. ‘It grows close in here, at least to my senses,’ she began, her head nodding slightly toward where the Orc sat. She lowered her eyes as if timid to make her request of him. Raising them again, a seeming artless look of expectation on her face, she engaged his own. ‘Might you walk about the grounds with me?’ she asked. ‘The fresh air will be welcome, don’t you think?’ She smiled at him, her eyes glimmering in the light from the nearby window. ‘My brother and I, as I’ve said are bound for Ithilien. We’ll be passing through Rohan, I’m sure. Then south toward Gondor. I’ve never been there. And I thought perhaps you could tell me of those lands.’

She stood, straightening her cloak about her. Her body blocked the view Farael had of Grishnahk. ‘And of course, you can invite your friends here to walk with us, if you wish.’ She smiled again, waiting expectantly for his answer.

[Captain Grishnahk]

Grishnahk grabbed at the mug of ale sitting before him, and he drank it all in two swallows. Smacking his lips, and forgetting to wipe his foamed mouth, he nodded towards Barnaby in thanks. But his thank-you was somewhat sarcastic, for he was not used to being treated in anyway but in disgust. The old hobbit that had just left seamed a bit uncanny, and most likely unfamiliar with orcs. Grishnahk also eyed the knife that Farael had, and he marked him down as an enemy.

The dark, grim Captain nibbled on the bread while making his observations of inn; the bread reminded him of the maggoty bread back in Mordor served as rations during war times. He longed for meat. Raw meat (if he could get it) his sharp yellow teeth shifted around in his mouth as he licked the backs of them. His crossbow was lightly placed in his hands, if anyone attempted to attack him, he would be ready. But for the time being, he would lay low.

[Valier]

Penn who was always quite a daydreamer was now completely alert.She was now aware of the discomfort at her table.Telu advised Penn to keep a close eye on Pip and nodded towards the corner.Penn quickly glanced and spied an Orc of all creatures sitting there.

Penn knew that it hide a weapon under the table,A knlfe appeared at Farael's side and Telu looked slightly concerned.But what they did not know was they were far from danger for Penn could have killed the Orc in a blink of it's eye.She was greatly skilled, self-taught,with two small daggers her father had given her.

Penn's life was fairly seditary,she got bored when her father was away,so learning accuracy became a game to pass the time.But when she found two small helpless,parentless Ferrets,her skills became more honed.Because the mice in her home had long since become weary of her skilland taken more secretive means.To no avail.Mer and Pip could not hunt for themseves so Penn became their soul means of food. Penn did not wish to harm thr Orc,he would not be here if he meant harm.

Penn looked over to her company and noticed the look on Telu's face as she quietly spoke to Farael,she knew that look."UM ,Pardon me,I must excuse myselfPenn exclaimed quickly and mumbled something about being hotand bolted out the door.Penn pulled her hood over her dirty and travel-worn,hair and looked around
.Penn quickly noticed a wretched smell."OOOH,That smell!" She exclaimed, peering around the corner she spotted the Warg."so that's what they look like,and smell like."But not all the smell was coming from the Warg,some came from herself.She slipped quickly back into the Inn and asked a Hobbit at the bar if she could trouble them for a room key,the Hobbit smiled and obligrd.Penn quickly glanced at the table from whence she sat and fled out of sight to refresh herself and her stinky companions.

[Captain Grishnahk]

Grishnahk watched as Penn exited, and he took a bite of the cheese sitting on his pate. He had no money to pay for meat, so he made the choice to steal some to quench his piercing hunger.

Slowly he stood from his table and walked a few feet before arriving at the door. He opened it and slipped outside to find another door or window into the kitchen.

[Primrose Bolger]

The news of the Orc is brought back to the kitchen

Ginger made her way back to the kitchen, cautiously. For one, she didn’t want to attract the attention of the newest customer to the Inn – the Orc. And second, she hoped that all the upheaval caused by that loathsome cat was over.

She peeked through the swinging door and saw that indeed, the kitchen had returned to normal. Cook was busy at the butcher-black table. The butcher had been there early in the morning and left several large goat carcases for the inn in the cold cellar. Cook had brought one up and was using her meat ax and bone saw to separate it out into more manageable pieces, which would later all be hung in the smoke house. She looked quite the sight, with her bloodied apron on and the blood on her hands where she’d held the meat as she sawed at the bones.

The Widow Rosebank had finished the dishes it seemed and was now helping out with something she was stirring up in a large bowl, probably for supper. Buttercup sat near her at the table, shelling peas. In all, it was a peaceful scene, save for the gore and blood about Cook.

And better yet, there was no sign of the fractious feline. Or Wren for that matter.

Ginger stepped into the kitchen and cleared her throat loudly. And once all had turned their attention to her for the moment, she announced her news loudly.

‘Thought you might all like to know – there’s an Orc come to the Dragon. Big, old ugly fellow. And he’s sitting bold as brass in the Common Room right now.’

[Farael]

Of all days, it just had to happen today. Farael had just come back from exploring around looking for those bandits who he never found and felt tired and slow. Now it seemed everything was happening too fast for him. First the elf, then the ferret and ferret owner, and then of all things an orc!

Now, as Telu invited him for a walk and he turned around to ask Penn if she would be interested in joining him, she said something about excusing herself and all but ran away.The dwarves seemed quite content with staying inside so he invited them for a walk as well, even though he wanted some time alone with Teluyaviel.

Without really waiting for the dwarves to answer and assuming they would join them if they were interested, Farael hid his knife again and invited Telu to lead the way. He was looking forward to walking around with her, even if she would start talking about the trees.... just as long as she talked about something.

[Captain Grishnahk]

Grishnahk stayed in the shadows of the inn as he slipped around back. The few windows that he saw led into the large dinning room instead of the kitchen. Finally, after going a few more yards, the window his eyes peeked into saw a person chopping up meat. The blood all over the cook made the hungry Captain lick his lips and scratch his palms. The cook's back was to the window, so Grishnahk could see if there was any door leading from the back into the kitchen. He spotted the door that led out to the smoke house. He spat when he heard a voice inside announcing his presence, he would have his revenge whenever he was himself again. Finally making it to the door that was placed in the sunlight, Grishnahk paused for a few seconds, he needed to be as stealthy as possible to get some meat, his stomach was empty, and he would not last much longer without some meat, fresh or rotten.

The sunlight caused him to go faster than he normally would, his skin was burning and his mind unclear. He opened the door that made no noise whatsoever, he smiled as he hurried and entered before he fainted. Slowly turning the nob and closing the door, he squated down close to the floor, he then slipped under a table. The meat was swinging above another table a few feet away, and it called to him. He bit his lip until blood ran. The butcher would leave soon he hoped. If not, he would have to grab some and run. But he thought harder; that undeniably would bring his death about more quickly.

Blood dripped from the meat, it nearly drove him mad...

[Valier]

After a good soak and a whole lot of splashing due to Merr's immence size and Pip's immence rambunctiousness,Penn was clean and her clothes were changed,Merr & Pip dried and fast asleep,she decided to return to the common room.

Before she left she checked her appearence in a nearby mirror,Startled for a second she smiled."I forgot,I clean up nicely!"Her appearence had drasticaly changed,from a dirty,journey weary woman,to a pleasing to look at lady.
Penn's hair was stark blond and fell almost to her shoulders.Her eyes were rich emerald green with1/3 the top left the pitchest of black.Her gaze exesuded experience & confidence.She was in some ways a sight for sore eyes.

She stowed Merr & Pip in their bag again along with some dried berries to tide them until she could hunt some small rodents for more sustanence.Thinking of food made her stomach grumble,food for herself would have to come first.As she approached the common room,she gazed around quickly to see who was present,The orc was gone and so was Telu & Farael.

She sat at a nearby table and hailed the server to see what they had to eat.Penn ordered a pint and something the server assured her she would like.Penn leaned back and sighed.So much excitement in such a short time.

[Undómë]

A walk on the Inn grounds

‘Have you ever been to the northern woodlands, Farael?’ Telu took his offered hand lightly as she stepped down from the Inn’s verandah. ‘It’s where I was raised. Eryn Lasgalen they call it now, but not so long ago it was named Mirkwood. There were dreadful things that hid among the trees. And the trees themselves seemed to turn dark and menacing.’ She took his arm, as they walked about the front expanse of lawn, saying, ‘You don’t mind, do you?’

‘I never really saw the Orcs that passed through there, on their way to some evil doings or another. But I knew them from the smell they left in their wake. And once or twice I caught a glimpse of those beasts they ride, the wargs.’ They had wandered into the shade thrown by a trio of beeches near the pathway from the road to the Inn. She shivered beneath her cloak at the remembrance of those savage faces and directed their steps once again into the sun.

They walked in companionable silence to the western boundaries of the Green Dragon’s property. Along its edges were great oaks and ash trees among them. And scattered here and there were patches of flowers and bunch grasses. She bent down for a moment as they passed a grouping of bright blue flowers and picked one, leaving a finger’s length of stem on it. ‘Here’s a pretty one for you!’ she laughed, securing it in the lacings of his tunic. ‘You don’t mind, do you? It makes you look less . . . grim.’ She plucked another, a white star-flower, and tucked its stem behind her left ear. ‘I’ll wear one, too,’ she said, her cheek dimpling as she grinned at him. ‘We’ll leave off thinking about Orcs and such and talk of fairer things.’

Telu spied a nice patch of grass not too far from where they now stood. Pointing to it, she led him there, and sat down, her back against an oak stump. She patted the ground next to her. ‘Come, sit down and enjoy the sun and view.’ She nodded toward the Inn, where Hobbits and others were coming and going.

‘Tell me a little about yourself, Farael. What adventures have you been on? I love to hear such stories.’ She frowned for a moment then her brow smoothed out again. ‘My life has been quite tame. Under the thumb of my parents for a long while, and now the watchful eye of my brother. No real adventures, I fear.'

[piosenniel]

A trip to the smokehouse

‘An Orc, you say?’ Cook paused for a moment in her butchering and looked toward Ginger. ‘We had one in here quite a while ago,’ she went on, pursing her lips as she stirred through her memories. ‘He came for that big birthday party. Very civilized for an Orc, if I recall correctly. Polite. And good sense of humor.’ She looked at Ginger again. ‘I don’t suppose we could get so lucky again, could we?’

She motioned for Buttercup to fetch the two big roasting pans. And they were soon placed on two chair seats that Ruby had pulled up near the butcher-block. Into each of them she placed a large haunch of goat which would be done up with taters and carrots all nestled about it for supper.

‘Buttercup, you finish up those peas. And then you and Ginger can season the roasts and put them in the oven to roast slow. Don’t get too heavy handed with the rosemary – just a light dusting of it ground will do.’

Cook gathered up the various large pieces she’d managed to cut the rest of the goat into and piled them into a large, two handled pot. ‘Ruby, can you get the other handle? We’ll take these out to the smokehouse to hang.’

It was a heavy load for the two Hobbits, but they managed it nicely and soon were pulling open the smokehouse door. They hung the bloody pieces on the great hooks that came down on ropes from the beams and then closed the door securely. They made sure the low burning fire in the little stove next to the large hut was still going and that the flue from the stove was well opened to let the heat and smoke drift through thickly over the meat. Cook threw a couple of scoops of wet applewood shavings into the little stove for flavor.

The smokehouse stood a good ways away from the back kitchen door and away from the stable. The two Hobbits made their way back to the kitchen, stopping on the way at the pump just outside the kitchen door to clean up. Ruby was asked to start peeling the taters for the roasts, while Buttercup chopped the carrots into good sized chunks. Widow Rosebank was just finishing up the cake batter for dessert.

‘Ginger, girl,’ said Cook, motioning her over to where the butchering had been done. ‘Go fetch the mop and a pail of hot sudsy water. I’ll clean up the table here and put it away and you can scrub up the floor.’

[Captain Grishnahk]

Grishnahk cursed his stupidity. He should have known the butcher would have not left raw meat out. Hidding behind the smokehouse is what he would have chosen if he had not been driven by hunger and beaten by the sun. But he had to wait a few more minutes to slip once again back out the door. Once there was no one watching, the orc slipped outside into the sun. Grishnahk sheilded his face with his hands from the sun, and he quickly ran into a nearby forest. The smokehouse was directly on the edge of the clump of trees and he would be able to get to it easily. Now that he was in some shadow, Grishnahk could think more clearly. He watched as the small tastey hobbits dashed into the kitchen after washing their hands at the pump.

The grim captain was distracted rather suddenly as he saw two figures a she and a he, walking down a path; soon sitting under a tree. He smiled evily thinking of what he would do if he were a bit younger, but he soon dismissed the thought and concentrated on his needs. Of course the smokehouse would be locked somehow, and he would have to be quick.

[Farael]

Farael looked at the pretty flower (he hadn't learned enough about flowers to know which kind of flower this one was) and sighed before answering "I am afraid my long bow and knife might have given you the wrong impression m'lady" Even though he knew her name, he still had a hard time thinking of her as an equal rather than someone somehow more important than himself "for I have not had any adventures in my young life. It is true I was enrolled in the glorious army of Gondor but... well, my dad made sure I never left to battle, nor to anywhere dangerous. I was all but a messenger boy for one of the captains.

This is why I've come here" he looked into her eyes hopefully "we all know how four brave halflings- hobbits that is- helped My Lord The King in his adventure, so now I'm looking forward to meet some of those adventurous hobbits myself!" Farael's voice lowered to a little more than a whisper "Although it seems like the hobbits in the Inn are not the same kind than the ones I've heard about... these seem pretty... tame"

[Captain Grishnahk]

Grishnahk slipped in front of the smoke house, already he smelled the wonderful raw meat beginning to cook. The lock was not skillfully made, for the Shire was most likely not accustomed to robbers or bandits. With the aid of his small dagger, he twisted the lock and soon the door opened, pouring smoke out into the air.
“I shall soon be suspected,” Grishnahk murmured snatching down two hunks of meat. He then retreated into the forest. When running the man of the two people under the tree met eyes with Grishnahk. Grishnahk's heart suddenly fell but he kept running. Once deep into the forest he layed one slab of the meat in his pack, and the other he bit into. Ripping the meat with his sharp yellow teeth, Grishnahk swallowed the bloody goodness. After he stomach was full he stood up very refreshed. He now was going to sneak and get as much information as he could get. It was long since he had any true spying job and he now would try his sneaking abilities. Slowly the leaves crunched under his boots as he crept closer to the two people talking under a strong oaktree.

He had to see if that man had truly seen him or not.

[Undómë]

Teluyaviel! What are you doing?

Telu started as her brother’s thoughts rattled loudly in her mind. Tindomion had come out of the stables, having seen to his and his sister’s horse. And here she was sitting all cozy with a man . . . a Man!

And what are those flowers twined in his shirt and in your hair?

She could almost see the steam pouring from his ears as he tromped toward her and Farael.

I should never have listened to mother! he growled in her thoughts. We should have bound you hand and foot and stowed you away below decks until we were far out to sea.

Telu stood and smoothed down her skirt, her cool grey eyes amused at Tindomion’s demeanor. He was red in the face, an unusual color for an Elf, she thought. Even for him. ‘This is Farael, my friend,’ she spoke aloud, gesturing toward Farael. ‘He kindly offered to walk with me in the fresh air, Tindo. There was an Orc in the Common Room.’

Tindomion looked the Man up and down. He looked harmless enough, he supposed. His hand went out in a proprietary manner toward Telu and drew her near him. ‘Thank you for offering to walk with Teluyaviel, Master Farael. But please don’t let us keep you from our business. I’m free now to take her where she wants to go.’

His sister stood slightly behind Tindo as he spoke to Farael, and she raised her brows at his comments and shook her head. She had enjoyed her small period of time free from her brother’s all too watchful eye. She put her hand lightly on her brother’s arm and stepped a little forward. ‘No need for you to break up our pleasant afternoon, Tindo. Why don’t you join us?’ She smiled brightly at him, her eyes teasing him to say ‘no’ to her.

‘We were talking of “adventures”. And really, neither Farael or I can say we’ve had any. But you were one of Thranduil’s archers; surely you have some stories to tell.’

Her brother had always been quiet on the subject of the War against the Shadow; his thoughts guarded when talk turned to it. She had wondered long about his reticence to speak of it. And even now, as she looked at him expectantly, she could see him harden himself against intrusion.

‘Well, then,’ she went on. ‘Perhaps you would be content to just walk along with us, and listen to our chatter.’ She was about to go on, when she sneezed. Her brow furrowed and her nose wrinkled up as a disgusting scent assailed it.

‘Something stinks! Something close by . . . like dead and rotting meat . . .’

[Captain Grishnahk]

Grishnahk had planned something for the two lovers under the tree until the other character had approached them.
“An archer, eh?” he whispered looking the elf over with his beady eyes. He would not last long if he was suspected. Out here in the forest where none of the hobbits could watch, his death would be upon him as quick as an arrow from the string. Slowly he backed up on his hands and feet, but he ran into something.
“Shisss!” hissed a voice, Grishnahk turned and looked upon another orc, smaller than himself but clad in spy garb. Quickly he looked back at the three people behind the bush, of course they would see him soon, already they were searching for whatever the sound may have come from.
“Ello, cap’m mate!” sneered the maggot, looking at Grishnahk’s pale face.
“Long time no see, eh?” he continued in a whisper. Grishnahk cupped his hand over the orc’s mouth, but it was too late…

[Valier]

After Penn had filled her belly,she spied the two Dwarves she had met earlier still sitting at their table talking,and drinking.Penn had not had a good conversation in some time.So she decided at that moment to be bold and approach their table for some companionship.

As she walked over ,she hailed the server for a round of ale for herself and the Dwarves."Greetings,Fror and friend.Would you mind terribly if I joined you? You see I have been travelling for sometime and this is the best ale I've ever had,I heared that Dwarves can drink alot of ale.I myself can drink quite a bit.Do you care for a friendly wager?" Penn raised her eyebrow in anticipation,as well as the mugs of ale.

[Farael]

"it's the orc," said Farael "I saw him before and I think he's talking to someone else. Try ignoring it, we are safe here. There are more watchful eyes in the Green Dragon Inn than what you would think by sitting there and having an ale or two."

Farael turned around, his back to the orc and smiled at Tindomion "I believe you know my name, but I do not know yours Master elf. I also believe, and I hope you forgive me for my lack of knowledge of your people's customs, that elves are fairly polite people, so why are you frowning and telling me to go if your sister and I were just having a nice conversation?"

"Here's what I think we should do," he went on "I happen to be an archer as well, and a good one at that even if I have not seen combat yet. Would you accept having a little skill competition? perhaps after getting to know each other a little better you will not be so upset that your sister and I" Farael looked at the flower on his tunic "were having a little conversation! Also, Master elf, both your sister and the two of us will be safe from the smelly-one that way."

[Rune Son of Bjarne]

Frór looked upon the person who adressed him and then burst in to laughter. . .
"Well If that is all you heard of dwarves I would be dissapointet" he said half laughing. " Denie it, I will not as your information is correct. You see we dwarves are sturborn those mithril shirts that time cannot decay, we could walk from Mordor with out food and still hold our drink better than most men"

Frór leaned back in his chair looking at Penn, hoping for a sign of admiration. . . When he realised this was most likely not to come, he spoke in the most dwarfish tone he could: " A wager you say. Since I have not been drinking so much as master Ibun I will participate in this one, just for the fun. Please sit down and join us"

"Travelling you say, Not by any chance on your way to the Blue Mountains are you?" Frór asked as penn pulled out a chair and joined them.