The Green Dragon Inn - Part 10

[piosenniel]

We had reached the limit for numbers of posts in Part 9 of the Inn.

Welcome to the Green Dragon Inn - Part 10. Carry on, Shirelings!
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GREEN DRAGON INN FACTS:

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.

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Other ongoing characters in the Inn:

Ruby Brown, Hobbit – not married – server and maid

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

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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.

Fredgar Hornblower – local Shiriff from Hobbiton – played by Fool of a Took
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Please Note:



No 'SAVES' are allowed in the Inn.

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.

Please be familiar with the rules for the Inn and Games in The Red Book of Westmarch, the first topic in the Shire.
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IT IS NOW AFTERNOON IN THE SHIRE. THE WEATHER IS PLEASANT.

[piosenniel]

Newcomers to the Inn

Please note the Inn Facts at the top of the page. They will clue you in to what is going on.

Before you post, please also read a number of the posts previous to yours so that you will get the flavor of what other characters are doing.

Look HERE to read the previous posts.
__________________________________

Brief Synopsis

About a week ago, game time, there was a devastating fire at the Inn. The structure was destroyed, and now the workers at the Inn and the villagers and patrons of the Green Dragon are lending their skills to rebuild it.

The foundation stonework is being redone, as is the framing for the main structure of the Inn.

Items are being salvaged as possible, new tables and chairs are being built, shingles for the roof are being fashioned. There is a cooking fire in the yard, and food is being made there for the workers. Tents have been set up, and some folk are staying in the stable.

Come in and lend a hand.

~*~ Piosenniel, Shire Moderator

[Roa_Aoife]

Roa was outside with Valthalion by the time Galadel came out. Swiftly, the Elf answered the questions written in their eyes. "Fear not, he is out of the darkness for now. He is beginning to understand what ails him. Soon he may be healed. But I cannot be certain, and I can do nothing save ease his pain."
Well, some good and some bad, thought Roa, echoing her brother's favorite phrase. She prayed to Eru that things would turn out for the better.

Turning to Valthalion, she said, "Now, my young kinsman, what is it you desire to discuss with us?" Valthalion paused as though considering how to begin.

"I seek... a fulfillment in my life, and a way to achieve rememberance. I will not find these things in the Shire, this I know, but what can I do?" His face was earnest, and his voice desperate. Roa laughed.

She laughed untill no sound came from her, and her face was red for lack of air. When she finally regained herself, Roa looked up into the face of a rather indignant Valthalion, and a quite amused Galadel. "Forgive me, my friend,I should not have laughed," Roa apologized with a smile. "You seek what many young men seek, and I have heard such things a great deal. You seek a way to fufill your life. Very well, continue to aid with the Inn, and when the time comes, I will teach you these things." his she said with a wink to Galadel, but Valthalion did not notice. Galadel spoke also.

"I agree, this is a matter not lightly taught," she said, returning Roa's gesture. "It is best you complete this task, for it is large enough, and what we will say may take a great deal of time." Valthalion nodded slowly. He looked to Roa and assured her that he felt no grudge for her laughter, and bowing slightly, returned to the work he had been away from for too long already.

"How long will it take him to realize that his life already has meaning and fulfillment?" Roa wondered allowed.
"He has a good heart, and a strong spirit. He only lacks the wisdom that comes from experience," Galadel responded. Roa smiled and bade her keep close watch on Snaveling, then returned to her own labor. Soon, you will understand, Valthion...

[Kransha]

Toby Hornblower mused silently, slowly taking in what had gone on. No one bothered to answer his question well enough for the elder hobbit, but he gathered they were all too flustered by the event with Snaveling to notice a being barely half their sizes. He sat on the ground now, still attempting to comprehend all that had occurred. A low grumble emanated from his sore throat in the form of a gruff guttural noise that rumbled disconcertingly. He looked around and bit his lip, growing more bored despite the recent excitement.

“What do you think she meant by that?” he said to Snaveling with a contemplative look on his face and an elevated eyebrow, though not looking at the man for response, “All of that nonsense about a beginning or some such thing, doesn’t make a thimble-full of sense.” He chuckled incredulously, which was just another obvious exhibition of Toby’s nervous defense mechanism, “Eh, Elves and their mysterious ways, all the more reason not to get muddled in their affairs. I tell you, they can never just answer a question right out, they have to work their way to the answer with a whole lot of useless drivel first.”

Now, Tobias Hornblower had never known an elf, but he just made the assumption. He had spoke with some elves in the Green Dragon Inn, and of course attempted discourse with Ladies Galadel and Roa, but to no true avail. He could not get much of anything amounting to answers from them and was irritated by that, since he almost always got straight answers from the folk he addressed around the Shire and its borders.

Even though he hadn’t given Snaveling the chance to answer his question, Toby decided to speak up again with a totally irrelevant follow-up. He swiveled in his seat on the ground to face Snaveling, his heavy eyebrows lowering as he asked the second question. He raised a hand, with his index river raised as if an epiphany or startling revelation had suddenly come upon him and he was having trouble converting it into the common tongue. He fumbled blindly for words, his mouth hanging open dumbly. A second later, his mouth began moving, but once again no audible sound emerged from the miniature maw. Toby's mouth drifted closed, he settled himself into his makeshift seat, and continued.

“That hobbit…the one who darted before us prior to your fall…do you know him? It seemed, if merely in my own opinion, that the strange ailment struck you when you looked upon him. I may be only filled with foolishness, but I could swear that is what I witnessed, Mister Snaveling."

[Crystal Heart]

Crystal looked around and saw Hama. She hurried over to him, grateful to see that he was alive as well as her other new found friends.

"Tis so good to find that you are all alive and well. I was so worried. Angry had rushed me away from the fire. I haven't been able to get back up here until now. How are you all?" Crystal asked brightly.

[Lumiel]

Having gotten what she wanted, little Indy cheerfully sat down on the grass beside Fulgrim, waiting while he finished his pipe. She was so happy! She hadn't been this happy since...well, for a while. Although anxious to begin, she had a patience beyond her years, learned through hardships.

She pulled at the grass and as she broke the blades, the fresh smell of lawn floated up to her. Her eyes fell on a clover nearby. Reaching out a small hand, she plucked it. Its neat little purple petals seemed to stretch with upreached arms to the warm, loving sun. It was a pretty, though not beautiful, flower and was edible as well. Many times had she survived because of this very flower.

It reminded her of the only friend she had ever had. She sighed. Poke had died long ago, or so it seemed to her. Poke had been an orphan girl like herself. Raised on the streets, she was a rough child. Yet still inside of her was a heart. When Indy was first put out onto the streets, Poke had taken pity on her and helped her learn the ins and outs of the streetlife. The two quickly became best friends, thick as thieves (which indeed they were). Unfortunately, their friendship came to a harsh end.

At the market one day, Poke was caught stealing. Indy had been trying to distract the owner of a stall while Poke did the real work. But the owner was smarter than they had thought, and caught poor Poke. Angry at the outrage, he took matters into his own hands. He beat the young girl and shoved her roughly away from his wares. Indy tried to get the man off of Poke, but her efforts had no effect. When he was through with Poke, he turned to Indy and raised his hand against her. Before any blow could land, Indy had screamed.

When the man had shoved Poke into the street, he had been unaware of the wagon that was bounding down the streets, reined by a drunk man who was out of control. Poke was tossed headlong into his path. The drunk was too far gone to pull up the horses quick enough, and Poke simply wasn't fast enough. Poke, Indy's first and only friend, had died a horrible, painful death. After Poke's death, Indy grew a hatred toward everyone and everything, and the world seemed only too glad to shove it back at her. She had not known anyone to care for nor anyone to care for her since the tragedy. She thought of Poke as she twisted the clover between her fingers. Poke had been the one to tell her the edible qualities of the plant. She glanced up at Fungrim. Maybe she could find a friend again.

[Witch_Queen]

Cree
"I'm going to stay for a longtime. That is unless I can go to Rohan and see what your life was like. I want to settle down, I want so much but I don't know if I can have it." Her words were hollow. I want so much, yet I'm a cursed elf. I can't have any of it. Once I find him, maybe he will decide to wait a little bit. Cree layed back against the grass. her hair became her pillow. "Grimm do you remember the night we met. Only a week ago and I almost died taht night." Cree paused, searching for what to say.

"I owe you my life. Avalon owes you her life. We are greatful that you were there." Cree placed her hand on Grimm's. "I owe everything to you. Thank you for being there. I could careless about leaving right now. Your the reason I'm still here." Suddenly it was like she snapped back to reality. "I'm sorry Grimm. I'm just rambling on about nonsense. I must sound crazy to you. Perhaps this curse has affected my mind." Cree thought she was going to be sick. "Excuse me."

Cree stood up all of a sudden and began running to the nearest tree. "Are you okay?" Cree turned around to see Grimm behind her. She shook her head. Cree didn't know what brought on her sudden sickness. She turned back towards the tree. MOments later Cree finally left the tree line to go back to Grimm. Her throat was hurtin her, making it hard for her to swallow. She pulled some herbs from the pouch at her side and placed them in her mouth. "The work must be getting to me." She layed back in the grass and closed her eyes.

Visions of her childhood came back to her. She remembered running out to see her horse. White as the whitest cloud and as gentle as gentle could be. Cree thought she had drifted off to sleep but she opened her eyes just in time to see Avalon jump on her stomach. "OUCH! Avalon why? Grimm isn't life sweet. What I would give to be able to go to sleep and be able to dream of home? Instead I can close my eyes and suddenly the smell of the nearby flowers rememing me of Eryn Lasgalen. I miss Pixie. He was one of the fastest horses in Eryn Lasgalen. I had to leave him behind." Cree rubbed her stomach to make sure her side wasn't going to start hurting again.

"I'm lucky she didn't cause my side to hurt again." Cree looked skornfully at Avalon. Her eyes seemed to almost change colors but it was the way the light hit them. Cree sat back and let out a laugh. "I'm fine. Actually I believe I've healed better than a tree can possibly wish to. At least we don't have to worry about it bleeding all of a sudden for no reason." Cree smiled at Grimm as she pushed her hair away from her face and behind her ears.
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Aduthondiel
Aduthondiel looked up and saw Crystal talking to Hama. She had wanted to go talk to him but didn't. She stood up ad walked over to the two. "Crystal." Aduthondiel nodded her head. "I'm sorry about the other night." She looked up to meet Hama's eyes.
In the background she could hear Count. "I hope everything is fine with you and Mr..... Angry is it? Well I'm going to be sending Count back with your necklace. He knows his way around." She turned around to look at her black horse. The star in the middle of his head seemed whiter than ever. Count was always the best horse I have ever had. He will be the best one I have. Horses should be taken care of. He's the one thing that reminds me of Rohan.

[Crystal Heart]

Crystal smiled brightly at her new friend. These people were trying everything in their possible capabilities to make sure that she could live in peace and happiness with Mr. Angry Brandybuck, the hobbit that she had fallen in love with.

"I thank you for your kindness. How can I ever repay you?" Crystal asked. She hoped that she could do something for her. It was so amazing how people that didn't even know the true soul of Crystal Heart were rallying together, against the General Dorian from Rohan, to make sure that she was safe and could live her life. A life without fear, without sadness, without grief. A life without all the torments that she had been put through.

These people were far kinder then any others that she had found in her entire life. She was proud to say that she knew such people, people with true virtues of kindess.

Even more she was more grateful for the fact that she would be able to have the chance at finding out where this new love with Angry would go. She would have to dodge around his parents, get accepted by the people that had raised him but she was unworried. Their lives were bound to be together. It was thing that she believed was a work of fate. She had faith that it would all come together.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Hawthorne had spent the better part of the day helping Regin and the others gather the large rocks that they would need to finish off the fireplace in the Common Room. She had been in charge of driving the pony cart back to the Inn once the boulders were all loaded into the rear of the wagon. But she had also done her fair share of lifting and hauling. Her arms and shoulders ached, but the feeling was not unpleasant or overbearing. It was merely a constant reminder of the hard work they were doing.

In the course of all this lifting and lugging, she had discovered that she did have one special talent. Since Hawthorne was the only hobbit regularly assigned to rock hauling duty, Regin invariably turned to her to dig out those boulders that were deeply embedded in the dirt. Descended from long generations of hobbits who dug down and tunnelled into the ground to make their homes, Hawthorne could do this job better than any of the others, even those folk much larger than herself.

Regin had given the crew a break, making them promise they would come back in a few hours to continue their chores. Overjoyed to have a few moments to spend on her special project, Hawthorne had quickly disappeared down the road, headed for a wooded grove that lay about a mile distant. An hour later, she re-emerged on the grounds of the Inn, carrying baskets and pails spilling over with more of the plants and small bushes she would need.

She had built the beds up high as Samwise had advised her to do, and enclosed them with a wattle fence. She had organized the small garden in the best way that she could: one section for medicinal herbs; another for kitchen and seasoning agents, and the final section for small vegetable and salad plants. This garden had a far different purpose than the gay flowers that graced the beds directly in front of the Dragon, which another guest had recently planted.

Today she had been looking for medicinal herbs. Her arms were ladden down with an assortment of different plants: Liquorice, comfrey, St. John's wort, feverfew, garlic, Hollyhock, valeria, echenacea, and jewelweed, the latter of which was so effective against skin irritations caused by poisonous plants. For the next hour, Hawthorne worked on planting the tiny seedlings, making sure they were well watered and there were no weeds in the beds.

She had just finished her chore and was hoping to pick up something to eat when she heard Regin ringing the Inn's new bell, the sign that they should gather again for rock hauling duty. Dusting the dirt off her hands and skirts, she pushed her curls behind her ears and ran out to where the workers were gathering.

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

Even the mention of the small hobbit made Snaveling’s flesh burn, but with an effort of will he controlled the pain. Toby saw his quick intake of breath and the grimace that contorted his features, and regretted having brought up the topic. Snaveling pulled himself to his feet, and using the stable wall for support replied to Toby’s question. “How should I know who he is?” he snapped. “This is your country not mine! Frankly, I’m amazed that there’s anyone in this…place you don’t know. Isn’t he your cousin’s wife’s half-brother or something?” Snaveling paused when he saw the look of outrage in Toby’s eye. He did not really care that he had offended the little fellow – but then again he was not altogether comfortable that he had done so either. Snaveling shook his head, trying to recover his usual demeanor. Another week here and I’ll be as ridiculously sentimental as this halfling! he told himself to steel his mood.

“I don’t know who he is,” he said more politely, “but I intend to find out.” Snaveling stepped toward the stable doors and then paused, before turning to Toby. It cost him greatly but he finally managed to say, “I would appreciate your help, Master Hornblower. I suspect that the little fellow might be more comfortable speaking to me with one of his own people around.” For the second time that day (and year) he attempted a smile, and while it once more looked more like a grimace than anything Toby would associate with joy, it was somewhat healthier for the practice it had received. Toby returned the look with genuine surprise and jumped up after the Man. “I’d be delighted to lend a hand, Mister Snaveling,” he said. “I want to find out what’s going on around here as much as you do!”

“It’s not ‘Mister’,” Snaveling said.

“Eh?” Toby’s brow furrowed.

“My name. It’s not ‘Mister’ Snaveling; just Snaveling” Snave, they called me once.

“Oh,” the halfling replied with genuine surprise. “Most folk just call me Toby, so I don’t see why you shouldn’t do the same. It takes less time when asking to pass the salt, my old father used to say.” Snaveling did not know what to make of this and did not try. Are food and comfort the only things these people ever think about?. He shook his head in wonderment.

Together Snaveling and Toby left the stables by small side door in order to avoid Galadel, Roa and Valthalion who were talking together outside the main gate. As they moved away from the stables, Snaveling heard Roa’s laugh from across the yard, and he scowled. I don’t know how, yet, but that Woman is responsible for what’s happening to me somehow. He did not let himself think about his actions in the cellar, nor how those might be connected to his situation as well.

It did not take them long to find the small hobbit. He was scurrying out of the Inn with an armload of scrap wood and looking for the world like a frenzied mouse returning to its nest with winter’s bedding. Snaveling had prepared himself for this meeting, but the instant he set eyes on the hobbit he knew it was going to be difficult. The burning beneath his skin intensified and threatened once more to overwhelm him, but the air of Galadel’s herbs in his lungs, and the memory of her song in his mind were enough to quell the worst of his reaction. Still he had to swallow hard before he could speak to the halfling.

“Excuse me,” he began in the politest manner he could, “but I need to ask you a few questions.” The hobbit stopped dead in his tracks and did not say a word. He was extremely small, and almost exactly like a rabbit in the way that he looked at the Man with alarm and nervous energy. For a moment it even looked as though he might flee, but Toby asked him his name. Being addressed by a fellow hobbit seemed to calm him, and he said that his name was Fordogrim Bolger.

“Well, bless me,” Toby said, “I’m on exceedingly good terms with the Bolgers. Brewers of some of the finest ale in the Four Farthings! Do you know Bandoboras Bolger…?” Snaveling was content to let the hobbits ramble on. He examined Fordogrim with interest, trying to determine why this little chap should cause him such discomfort. The burning was returning and he knew that he would soon have to flee. For some reason, his mind turned to the purse of gold that he had stolen, and at that moment his nightmare threatened to return with full force. He staggered back a step and would have fallen, but something the small hobbit was saying to Toby caught his attention. He held on to the sentence like a still point of surety and used it to balance himself.

Toby had apparently asked Fordogrim what had brought him to the Green Dragon Inn. At this, the hobbit fetched a huge sigh and replied, “Ah me. I had come here to do some business. I was going to pay in advance for a year’s supply of hops from a few of the farmers up in Hobbiton. But that fire has ruined me. I lost all my gold in that Inn.”

Snaveling staggered toward the hobbit, grasping him by the arm and glaring into his eyes with such ferocious intensity that the poor little fellow let out a squeal of fright. Fordogrim had hardly even seen a Man, and had certainly never been accosted by one as grim and severe and Snaveling looked now. With the last of his energy, Snaveling choked out, “Your purse…was it made of calf-skin? With red thread and a short black cord to close it?”

“Yes,” Fordogrim said with equal parts terror and amazement. “It was precisely like that. Have you seen it?”

Snaveling staggered forward and fell to his knees. “Yes,” he said, “I stole it from your room” his head swam and his vision grew dark. He held on to the shreds of his consciousness and pointed across the yard to where Galadel, Roa and Valthalion were talking. “Go to those people and tell them what I’ve said. They have your purse.”

Drawing himself to his feet, Snaveling ran back to the stables, ignoring the surprised calls of his companions and threw himself onto his makeshift bed.

[rutslegolas]

Harold Brandybuck was stout and short looking hobbit with a big beard out of the liitle village located south of the Southfarthing.He was known in his village of his excellent carpentering skills.He was a regular visitor at the Green Dragon Inn coming atleast twice a week to have a beer or two.

When he heard of the fire in the Inn he came in the afternoon on his short pony henry,to lend a hand to repair the Inn.He went straight to work once he got in lending his hand to repair some tables and chairs in the common room which were destroyed by the fire.

After work he got some soup out of the pot and had a beer and chatted a bit with the old Gamgee about the new leaf being grown in the Southfarthing,he even gave the old Gamgee some of his own home grown leaf.
He was just sitting chatting with Gamgee and having his beer when buttercup cam to him.

[piosenniel]

Newcomers to the Inn

Please note the Inn Facts at the top of the page. They will clue you in to what is going on.

Before you post, please also read a number of the posts previous to yours so that you will get the flavor of what other characters are doing.

Look HERE to read the previous posts.
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Brief Synopsis

About a week ago, game time, there was a devastating fire at the Inn. The structure was destroyed, and now the workers at the Inn and the villagers and patrons of the Green Dragon are lending their skills to rebuild it.

The foundation stonework is being redone, as is the framing for the main structure of the Inn.

Items are being salvaged as possible, new tables and chairs are being built, shingles for the roof are being fashioned. There is a cooking fire in the yard, and food is being made there for the workers. Tents have been set up, and some folk are staying in the stable.

Come in and lend a hand.

~*~ Piosenniel, Shire Moderator

[Witch_Queen]

Aduthondiel
Crystal if you really had known me you would see the real reason why I'm not going to return to your father. "Crystal I'm no saint. Hama can tell you that." Aduthondiel wanted to sound sarcastic but she knew it came out in a harsh tone. "There are many things none know about me that is except for you father. Yet I have seen that not all men are evil. General Dorian is an evil man. No one should have to suffer the way I have, not even my worse enemies."

Aduthondiel looked down at the ground. Her own words were coming back to her. All those years of hate was finally catching up with her. She was going to get what she deserved. Aduthondiel didn't know whether to take the opportunity she was given or to let it pass her by. I never get what I have long time wanted. I'm always going to be alone in this world. General Dorian saw to it. "Growing up I was always told that there is something some demon inside people that make them evil. Yet all those years with your father Crystal has taught me something. Something so evil can spawn a person that is so pure and good at heart."

Aduthondiel didn't want to try to become friends with the girl. She only hurt those around her. Thats how it was since the day she left her home in Eryn Lasgalen. Always running from those who only wanted to become her friend. Not anymore. I must face my fears. From this day on I won't let what he's done to me affect me in any way.
"A soul of water,
A soul of stone.
A soul by name,
A soul unknown.
The hours unmake
Our flesh, our bone.
The soul is all;
And all alone."
Aduthondiel looked up to the sky, every single cloud seemed to tell its own story. A story of creation and destruction. "For that is what it actually means to live. First creation and last of all we have destruction. The everlasting circle that plagues every single one of us. The inn itself was a living creature in its own form. The circle begins again."

[Fool Of A Took]

Grimm smiled to Cree as she remembered him about the night they two met. It felt just as it was yesterday they met. He leaned back and pictures came back to him from that night. "I am really glad I met you, Cree" he said and turned to Cree again. Pulled back his hair that now almost covered his whole face and stretched out his tired body on the lawn. It felt like his muscles was going to explode. His legs felt like they weight hundreed tons and his back was hurt. Cree took his hand and smiled. He smiled to her.

Suddenly she rose up and ran away. Grimm got confused and ran after her. Is her curse hurting her again? He ran after her and she could see she stopped by a tree and leaned to it and choked. "Are you alright?" he puffed Cree as he catched up to her. She shook her face and choked. She leaned against the tree but slowly began to slide down the tree trunk. He took a sturdy grip around her and lifted her up again. He could abrely see anything, his eyes was totally blurred of tears.

He layed her on the ground and shook her shoulders. "Cree? Cree!? Can you hear me?" It looked like she had fainted but he could see in her eyes that she was in pain. "No!" he shouted and hit his fist in the ground.He laid his head to her chest and tears began to fall down his cheeks. It will be alright, she will be fine, his mind kept tellin him but he felt so sad for her, and that curse that never let her rest.

Avalon came flying and landed on her stomach and jumped up and down. Grimm looked up and rubber away all the tears from his eyes so he could see properly. Cree began to move and slowly opened her eyes. Grimm jumped up and smiled. She smiled to him and he helped her up. "I won't let anything happen to you!" he said and hugged her. He sat down again and Cree sat down too. He looked at all the people around, they looked tired. This was a hard time for many, but at the moment things were going better, and now a dwarf helped them and a Shirriff from Hobbiton had arrived too. Fredmar or Fredgar his name was, Grimm couldn't remember which it was.

He turned back to Cree and smiled, his eyes was still wet of tears and Avalon sat beside them and looked at them. "I am so happy you are alright. Maybe you can come with me to Rohan some day." He smiled to her again and leanead back against a tree.

[Nirvana II]

Up out of Longbottom came Carl. He was a young hobbit, being still in his tweens. He had been with his cousin Hildi for a month breeding Pipe-weed (it is said she was a descendant of Old Toby himself). Her cousin Pippin Took had come from lands of Big-folk away South by the uncouth names of Gondor and Rohan. They were breeding what the Gondorians called sweet galenas with Southern Star, Old Toby and Longbottom Leaf. Many attempts had failed, but the ones that were successful were dubbed later "Gondorian Pride".

Carl came for lodgings at the Green Dragon not too long after. The Inn being destroyed by a fire was still in need of rebuilding. Carl lent all his masonry skill to lay the foundation. while taking a break an old gaffer asks him for some leaf. Carl gladly gives him and his mates some of his Pride. He didnt offer any to Grimm of the Mark, as he was shire born. The moment they inhale they were asking where did he get this? They called for Aman and got Carl to give some of his Pride to all in the inn.

Later that day Carl Brandybuck was the talk of Hobbiton and Bywater. "I credit it to my cousin Peregrin Took and Hildi Hornblower," saying "a few suitable words" he was invited to stay at Bag End, but refused. " The tents are perfectly alright, thank you," he replied correctly. All day he labored for rebuilding the Inn, building new furniture and laying the foundations, but always people asking "Where did you get this?". His stock of Pride was growing low, so he planned to later go back to Longbottom and return with more of the Pride.

[Roa_Aoife]

Roa wasn't half-way back to the construction when a small voice called her back. I will never finish my work today, she thought irritably. So much for making up for Snaveling. Roa turned around to see the hobbit fellow from earlier running towards her. Galadel was already walking toward him. Roa sighed and did the same. She smiled wearily as he approached.

"Are you friends with that man over there?" said the hobbit, almost shaking with nervousness. Roa looked to where he pointed. Snaveling was rising to his feet and moving quickly to the stables. Friends? Why not... "Yes, yes we are. How may we help you?" Roa answered. From her angle she could see that Snaveling was not in serious danger, though Galadel, who had remained silent, had a bemused smile on her face. Roa wondered what this hobbit had to say.

"That man and the gentle-hobbit with him asked what my business was at the Inn, and it turns out that the gentle-hobbit knew a cousin of mine..." Roa let him ramble on for a moment. He seemed nervous as it was, and she knew that nervous people tended to talk too much. She tried to be patient, but after a moment she cut him off. "Excuse me, Mister Bolger, but I have a great deal of work to do, so could you please get to the point?" The poor hobbit looked quite startled and moved back a foot. "I lost a purse of gold in the fire, and that man said you had it."

Roa nearly reeled in shock. She leaned down and grabbed the hobbit's arm. "He did what?" Mister Bolger looked ready to faint. This was the second Big-person today to do such a thing, and while Roa was not so grim looking as Snaveling, she was still a fierce sight, and so much bigger. Galadel gently pulled her back.

"Forgive us, master hobbit, we were not expecting such a turn of events," she said gently. Mister Bolger calmed down a bit. "Could you describe the bag for us?" And he did, down to the very last detail. Roa calmed down as well, but she was still in shock. She could not believe that one such as Snaveling would, or even could, give over the bag. He had been so intent on having it. What had caused the change? "Wait here," she comanded. Quickly, she strode over to Valthalion.

The young man had been faithful in guarding the bag. Not a single piece of gold had been lost. Mister Bolger thanked Valthalion repeatedly as he gave over the bag. "Give me your name, sir, and I will see to it that you are always welcome among my kin." Valthalion assured him that it was not nescessary, but gave his name anyway. The hobbit nearly wept for pure joy as he walked away. Galadel went back to her work as Valthalion and Roa walked back together. They parted ways, and Roa drove into her task again. It was not yet noon, and already the day had been to long. What else could happen in one day?

[Witch_Queen]

"I am so happy you are alright. Maybe you can come with me to Rohan some day." The words went straight to Cree's heart. She nodded and layed back into the grass. The world she had loved had turned against her, yet now it had given her the one person to care about, Grimm. Cree looked up at Grimm to see what she thought were tears in his eyes. She placed her finger under one of the tear drops and caught it.

"Dear Grimm there is no reason to be sad. I would love to go to Rohan some day. From what I've heard from both you and Hama it is a lovely place. Perhaps I can find me a good horse. One that I won't be forced to abandon." Cree dropped her gaze to the grass beside her. When she looked up again one single tear rolled down her cheek. "Now that you have shed a tear I have too. I hate to see you so sad. Please tell me what scares you? If there is something I could do to get rid of this horrible curse I would. I have tried everything and yet I still have it. Some one must have really hated me or my parents to do something like this to me." Cree's voice began to change sound, she was no longer happy like before. Her eyes were no longer grey, they had become a blue.

She began to sense the change in her voice and eyes. "I am sorry." It didn't matter how much she wanted to sound sincer she couldn't. Tears began to roll down her cheek more rapidly. "What have I done?" Cree leaned on Grimm. "What have I done?"

[piosenniel]

Buttercup

‘Who is that Hobbit over there?’ said Buttercup, pointing with the soup ladle to where a young Hobbit stood, a group of lads his own age and older gathered round him. They all had their pipes in hand, all taking a break from the work on the Inn.

‘That is Carl Brandybuck of Whitwell,’ returned Ruby, as she scraped her platter of diced potatoes and carrots into the soup.

The smell of pipeweed drifted over from the group, and Buttercup sniffed it appreciatively. She couldn’t quite place the enticing aroma – not Southlinch from Bree or Southern Star, she thought. She sniffed again – and not Old Toby, either. This was a new smell . . . and very pleasant . . .

‘Where are you going?’ Ruby cried after her, as Buttercup gathered up her skirts and started off toward the group of lads.

Buttercup picked up a tray, and putting a number of mugs on it, filled them all with foaming ale. ‘I’m going over to meet this Mr. Carl Brandybuck,’ she said, flashing a smile to Ruby. ‘And if I’m lucky, you and I can share a little of that glorious pipeweed for our evening smoke.’ Tray held aloft, Buttercup sauntered over to where the smoke was thickest.

‘Anyone care for a pint?’ she called out . . .

[Fool Of A Took]

Grimm looked up at Cree as she shed a tear too. He tried to smile to her, but he couldn't, it wasn't the right moment for smiling he felt. "You have done nothing wrong." he said and stroke her on her cheek. Now he forced a smile on his face. "Don't cry... The only things that scares me is...." Grimm paused and stared down at the green grass in the ground. He stroke his hand over the grass. It felt just like the grass on the plains of Rohan. He sighed and looked up again.

"...The thing that scares me is that I will lose you. That you will die.." His voice faded away as he said the last word. He touched her cheek again and said "But you will not die, I will not let that happen." Now he smiled again.

If she died, Grimm would be sorry forever. He couldn't stand more death and pain. He hated it, it was so unnecessary. Yet there was much pain and death all over the world. Grimm put his head in his hands and closed his eyes and sighed. I shouldn't be so sad.

He rose up and said "Are you hungry, Cree?" He looked at Cree and then turned to Avalon "And you Avalon?" he said and grinned. "I am starving, for my part." he said and smiled. "How about having a good meal?" The hunger in his stomach had came now as he rested for a while.

[Kransha]

Toby Hornblower, the confused, annoyed, and now furious elder hobbit, scurried away like some rabid rodent with an eye for cruel vengeance. He sprinted as fast as short legs could carry him away from the small hobbit, who’d sent himself swiftly in the opposite direction, and towards the Green Dragon stable grounds. A new and pleasing smell, reminiscent of Longbottom Leaf, wafted through his rapidly sniffing nose and beneath his flaring nostrils, but he was too furious and bewildered to care about the seductive scent that, in any other situation, would’ve had him floating towards its point of origin.

“What in the Southfarthing was that all about?” He roared, more in anger than in query, as he bolted like very small and unstable lightning through the stable opening and towards the makeshift cot that was set up for Snaveling at the other end. “Are you insane?” he bellowed, in the biggest and most commanding tone of voice he could muster, “You’ve ruined us! Worse yet, you’ve ruined me! What addled thought could possibly have been going through your thick skull when you said that?” He paused for a moment, his face bright red, his eyes narrowed in extreme irritation, and his ears and nose practically pouring forth an enraged steam that seemed to drift in an aura around his small, ovular head.

Tobias Hornblower raised a hand, with index finger extended, almost scolding the man twice his size. He continued, trying in vain to control the emotion. All of his hobbit’s innocence had evaporated, leaving only a cold hard fury at having this man, who he thought to be more adept at thieving and lying than he, break down before him. Surely Galadel and Roa would guess what had happened, as cunning as they were, and he would be found out. The weakness of Snaveling had condemned both him and his accomplice.

“What purpose had you in that? Make all clear immediately, Snaveling, or I will unveil your foul actions to all without hesitation. Speak now!” His voice managed to lower. He finally realized the quality of the words he was spewing so carelessly. One hobbit should never challenge such a man, as his father had told him. But it was said, and he still desired an answer, or he would go through with what he had said he would. Toby stood firm, stable on his own two feet, in front of Snaveling. It had finally come to his attention that Snaveling didn’t look entirely well, though he couldn’t tell in earnest because the taller man was turned away from him.

Footsteps could be heard some brief distance to the left of the two -man and hobbit alike- as a newcomer stride into view.
No... make that two newcomers, on second thought; one was on horseback. The other led the steed, reins grasped tight in her fist.
The latter arrival was a woman of perhaps thirty years, a human by the look of her, tall for her gender and with the well-muscled phisique of one not unused to the stables, an aspect heightened by the fact that she wore riding leathers rather than the traditional skirts or gown. Her shoulder-length hair was bound up behind her head with a strip of black-dyed suede- and that hair, though she seemed not yet past the flower of her youth, was the color of steel. Not the dull gray that comes with age, but a brilliant metallic hue that caught what light there was and threw it back like a thousand tiny wires. Her head was turned from the two at present, as she was speaking to her companion.
The compatriot in question was clearly male- and for all his female friend's height, he was taller still. Were he standing upon the ground rather than perched upon his mount, he might have peaked nearly seven feet. Outfitted from neck to toe in a traveling cloak of charcoal gray, trimmed in blue, he was whipcord-lean, nearly thin enough to gain the term 'emaciated'. His skin held a corpselike pallidity to it; indeed, in places the whiteness was tinged with blue. His features were too thin and sharp to be considered handsome, framed by a mane of hair as dark as night itself. This mop was bound back into a simple horsetail. His eyes, as could be seen by the angle of his head, were as narrow and sharp as surgical steel. Their color only added to his strange demeanor, for they were a deep amber, overlaid with a distinct orange cast.

Having entered the stables, the two were now close enough to catch the heated conversation between Toby and Snaveling. Their own conversation stopped instantly as both pairs of eyes -unnerving orange-gold offset by mild green- turned toward them.
The woman set her jaw, reminding herself that it would be impolite to jump to conclusions. Not to mention foolish. But having heard the tail end of Toby's outburst, she couldn't help but be a trifle annoyed.
Such was, after all, her nature.
A soft thump behind her, followed by a hand resting itself on her shoulder, detracted the woman's attention before she could open her mouth to demand just what they were about. She glanced behind her, craning her neck up to view her odd companion, who was eyeing the two with a mild interest that bordered on ennui. Sighing, he spoke- and his voice was just as strange as the rest of him: hissing, barely above a whisper, like the winter wind blowing through the fallen leaves of autumn.
"Are we... interrupting anything?"

[SonOfBombadil]

Lewis walked away from the building foundation and everything that was being erected and looked back on it. They had made much ground over the week, and things were starting to look up at the inn.

He looked over to the tree line,and saw Ravon sitting there. She had been sorting through stuff all morning and looked tired. He was ready for a break too, after working most of the morning. "Would you like something to eat, Ravon? It's been a while since I've had anything to eat, and I was going to go and find something."

[Kransha]

Toby Hornblower spun around, a look of supreme indignation souring his already murderous face. His rat-like nose twitched oddly as his expression wrinkled into a grimace. He was already furious at Snaveling, and now to be interrupted at random by some passerby, it was too much for the gentlehobbit. Tobias quivered in place, shaking and seething. His skin’s red tinge deepened alarmingly as his hazel colored eyes narrowed and seemed to be shrouded by a crimson veil. He looked at the two folk before him and his rage grew, his face becoming almost livid. The expression in their eyes, though a subtle nuance, infuriated him further as he focused his ever-shrinking pupils upon them.

“Interrupting anything!?” the raspy, gruff pitch of his stiff baritone voice shot up into a higher range as he barely avoided shrieking at the man who’d addressed him, “Yes, I do believe you are interrupting something! What sort of question is that? Is there something you want? If not, do not linger in my company, for my tolerance has lessened considerably of late. If there is naught that you require from me or my companion, get you gone from here and do not interfere with my business!”

The hobbit, who stood several heads shorter than the two people he was grimacing at, took a deep breath through his flaring nostrils and relaxed himself as much as he could in this condition. His reddened face began to drain of color as he realized that he’d made another blunder. His chest, constricted by the narrow gait of the gaudy green vest he was wearing, heaved up and down slowly as the elder Hornblower composed himself.

“Forgive me,” he said meekly, looking down at the stable floor and fumbling for a valid excuse for that outburst “I am not in the best of moods at present…I’m not entirely sure what came over me, in truth. You see, an undesirable streak of rotten luck has dogged me, this past week, and it has put me off, so to speak.”

The gray-cloaked man, having listened expressionlessly to the elder hobbit’s tirade, never even flinched during the yelling spate nor the subsequent apology. The only sign that he had even heard what the halfling had to say was an odd glow in the depths of his amber-orange eyes, a subtle flickering of some dangerous inner fire.

That expression, coupled with a single step forward, made him seem far less congenial than he had a moment ago; indeed, one might wonder whether or not he wouldn’t simply cut the poor hobbit down on the spot- the movement he had just enacted had dislodged a corner of his cloak, revealing the hilt of a blade nearly as long as your average Shire-dweller was tall. At least, it seemed that way judging from the hilt, seeing as its sheath was still concealed.

He might have advanced even further, save that the steel-haired lady beside him siezed his arm in an effort to restrain him, casting a look of rebuke toward his face. It was a glance that said, in no uncertain terms, that there would be dire ramifications if her looming companion took one more step toward poor Toby.

“Vondros,” she hissed at him, her eyes narrowing dangerously. “Don’t you dare.”

Reluctantly, he released his grip upon the sword, allowing his cloak to fall back over the weapon.

One crisis averted, the woman turned back to Snaveling and the elder Hornblower. She bowed slightly, her tone turning from acerbic to kindly in the time it took to draw breath. “Forgive my confederate. As you may have noticed, he is rather lacking in” -she shot another, rather wry, look at him- “social graces. I ask you not to blame him. He has not had contact with many in a vein not associated with warfare in...” She paused, trying to find the proper term, “a very long time.” Again the slight bow, just enough to indicate polite greetings. “If our presence truly is a bother to you, then we will take our leave once we have shown his mount proper housing.” She returned her grip to the aforesaid mount’s reins; the Appaloosa stomped once but otherwise made no move to protest. “I’m Morrigna,” she added mildly. “Morrigna Falconhand. The gentleman that threatened you is-”

”Vondros don Thorg,” the youth replied -if youth he was, for in truth, though his face was smooth and unlined, something in his eyes suggested differently-, his tone lacking any hint of inflection other than boredom. A slight mocking flavor was added to his next statement as he glanced sidelong at the two before him. “At your service.”

With this, he folded his arms in front of his chest, eyeing his feminine compatriot with curiosity, waiting to see what she would do next. The movement added a note of intrigue to the mix, for his right index finger bore upon it a faint blemish. A scar, it looked like; a perfect band such as a ring or similar might make, encircling the digit. But where would he get such a mark?
And what was it that should rest upon the scarred area but did not?
------------------------------------------------------------------------

[Regin Hardhammer]

Done, he thought to himself with an air of satisfaction and pride. After he finished, Regin Hardhammer took a step back to admire his work. For the past few hours Regin had withdrawn himself from the public eye to a reclusive tent where he prepared his gift for the Dragon’s reopening. He had felt a bit guilty taking time out of overseeing the reconstruction of the Inn in order to finish his special project, but he reasoned that the item itself would be a grand gift for the reopening of the Inn. Won’t they all be surprised when I unveil it? he smirked to himself. Now all of the Green Dragon folk would see just where his true talents lay!

Crash went a wooden beam, and broke with a crack so loud that even Regin heard it with clarity, despite his distance from the Inn building. As Regin rushed out, leaving his gift hidden in a chest inside the tent, he saw two young male hobbits and a splintered piece of lumber between them. The other Dwarf, Fungrim, went over to assist the hobbits as Regin came towards them. Very agitated, Regin was about to unleash a tirade chastising the young Hobbits when Fungrim intervened.

“Come now Regin, I’m sure the Hobbits didn’t do it on purpose.”
The pair of hobbits nodded their heads vigorously with an expression of obvious relief.

Regin relented, “Yes, I suppose not, but young hobbits do seem to have a talent for destroying things. Breaking, burning....they have mastered them all. Oh, very well. Off with you then.” The pair ran off as quickly as if they had seen a nazgul, and nearly as shaken.

After another hour of work, Regin smelled something he had not smelled in quite some time. A whiff of pipe tobacco punctured the pleasant afternoon breeze. It did not have the scent of any tobacco he had smoked before; the aroma was like dew-covered daisies bathed in the morning light. Quickly, Regin searched for the source of this wonderful aroma. He found it coming from a hobbit, someone Regin had never seen before. His experience with hobbits had often been a mixed bag, but Regin had a feeling he would like this one. He approached the hobbit as he was hammering a board in place.

“Excuse me young sir but I do not recall ever seeing you and wish to introduce myself. My name is Regin Hardhammer and I am in charge of this rebuilding process. I am very grateful for your help in the project, and hope that you stay for a while for the rebuilding party after the completion of the Inn. I have not smoked quality weed for an extremely long time, for these days it is very hard to come by, especially on the road. I do not know the name of the blend you have, but it smells delightful. May I relieve you of a portion, only a pipe full perhaps?"

[piosenniel]

Nirvana II

Do not put any further posts in the Green Dragon Inn.

You need to read your PM’s; write a post for your character; then PM it to me for review.

Any further posts from you in the Inn will be deleted.

~*~ Piosenniel, Shire Moderator

[piosenniel]

Buttercup

Buttercup wound her way through the crowd in the yard with a tray of ale filled mugs on a tray held high above her head with one hand. Rebuilding the Inn was thirsty work, and many were the smiles she got as she brought to the laborers resting in the field.

That smell again teased her nose. Some sort of pipe-weed she just couldn’t quite place. Like a hound sniffing out the trail of an elusive coney, she followed the scent and found the source. There, sitting with the gaffer, was one of the local lads. Harold Brandybuck – an ale in one hand and a pipe in the other.

The gaffer waved at Buttercup as she drew near. She plunked a fresh half pint in front of him, noting he too had a pipeful of the good smelling pipeweed. ‘Oh my!’ she exclaimed, taking another whiff of the smoke. ‘I’ve never smelled anything like it.’ She looked at Harold, smiling broadly. ‘What’s it called,’ she asked. Then, sitting herself down with the both of them asked if she might try a little . . .

[Witch_Queen]

Cree
"Food sounds good, it seems like ages since I last ate."Cree stood up, the tears had stopped and she knew she had someone to care about her. "Thank you Grimm, thank you for everything." He's worried that I will die? Why? I can only convince myself that this is only a phase in life. That I'm not "cursed" She couldn't remember the last time she had someone who cared about her. Her voice was back to its sweet sound, she had nothing to worry about now. Everything was going to be fine. Life would turn out to be as sweet as Abarat had told her. The only true friend I had growing up. Yet the same thing happened to him... death. Is all those who care for me doomed to death? NO! I mustn't think of that at the moment.

Cree began straightening out her cloak, which had already turned black from the ashes she had been sorting through. "Grimm I'm glad I met you." Cree heard a screech come from the ground behind her. Avalon was looking up at her. The gaze from Avalon sent chills down Cree's back. "And you too, Avalon. I don't know where I would be without you. Well I probably have left these lands. Yet I'm glad I didn't. Now shall we get something to eat. I feel as if I've been starving all my life." Cree let out a smirk and held out her fist. Avalon jumped up and landed on Cree's shoulder. The birds talons clung tight to her skin. It was a matter of time before she knew her shoulder would bleed again.

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

It took Snaveling about three seconds to decide that he wanted nothing to do with the two strangers who had accosted Toby and himself. The woman was of a type all too familiar to him. He had found one like her in every village and camp he had visited in the years that lay between the Shire and his homeland: quick to judge and soon to speak in matters that did not concern her. As to the tall, corpse-like fellow at her side…Snaveling knew that this was a person it would be safest to keep well clear of, at least until the people who seemed to be in charge of the Inn spoke to him about proper manners in this land.

Snaveling was surprised by Toby’s outburst, but he was getting used to the halfling’s odd behaviour, and he knew how upset Toby was at the loss of the gold. While Toby was railing at the strangers, Snaveling slunk through the shadows and out the small side door. As he passed out into the sun, he felt a twinge of conscience at abandoning his…do I really think of him as my “friend” now?!…but if Toby did not have the good sense to avoid such people, then be it on his head. He moved away from the stables with a determined step, but then paused for a moment and looked back. He thought for a moment, stroking his small amulet abstractedly. Toby’s words came back to him: “What purpose had you in that? Make all clear immediately, Snaveling, or I will unveil your foul actions to all without hesitation. Speak now!” He shook his head and, cursing under his breath, stamped away from the stables once more as though he were kicking the ground in anger.

Snaveling was not particularly concerned by Toby’s threats; if people were to begin casting blame there was more than enough to spread between the two of them. Besides, judging from the behaviour of Fordogrim he doubted that the little chap would ever make an official complaint against them, just so long as he could get his gold back. But Toby’s question haunted him. Snaveling gripped his amulet until his knuckles turned white. He had confessed to the theft because he had known – somehow – that it was what he had to do. The pain of the burning in his skin had been horrific, but Snaveling was willing to endure much for his own profit: it had been something else beyond that. He glared across the yard at Galadel. That she-Elf has done something to me with her spells, he thought. Made me as weak-minded and ridiculous as that fool Valthalion. Still, there had been some benefit to him from her magics – the pain of the burning had gone from his skin, and for the first time in a week he was able to take pleasure in the brightness of the sun and the warmth of the air. Still, there remained a profound sense of loss with regard to something – he followed a thought that eluded him. What had he lost? For a second, as though catching sight of something from out of the corner of his mind’s eye, there was a glimpse of a green place that he had known, but then it was gone. He tried to think of what it might be, but there was only a blank grey space where something else had once been. His heart sank once more as a nameless grief threatened to overwhelm him. He steeled his mind against the emotion. It’s just the gold, he told himself. Toby is right, you are a fool to have given it up.

Suddenly hungry, Snaveling moved toward the cooking fires hoping that perhaps the cooks had managed to roast one or two of the quail that he had brought them this morning. As he did so, however, he heard Roa’s clear laughter ring out in the afternoon sun. He looked over to where she and Valthalion were struggling to lift a heavy beam onto a pair of trestles. He paused, halfway between the Inn and the cooking fires, looking back and forth between the food and the labour. He took a step toward the fires, paused again, and then cursed, loudly. He spun on his heel and stormed toward Roa and Valthalion in a rage at himself.

Without uttering a word to either of them, he helped them wrestle the beam onto the trestles.

[Angel_Queen]

As Lewis approached her, Ravon looked up. It was good to finally see him after a week of working and no time to talk to anyone. "I would love to join you." She did her best to wipe away the ash on her face. She had been long at work since the fire from the previous week.

"So what will we be having?" She hadn't eaten in so long. She had been working hard. "It's good to finally take a break. I thought I would never get away from them." She could see Cree walking towards the food. She hadn't talked to her lately. "Lewis theres Cree, I haven't talked to her lately. Well she can wait."Ravon noticed the man beside Cree. "Rohan? I believe? She always had a way with men. Though she neve admitted to it. Oh well that was then. This is now."

[Fool Of A Took]

Grimm smiled to Cree and they began to walk against the stable where everyone that lived at the Inn stayed while it was being rebuilt. Inside the stable Grimm saw a hobbit cooking a stew with vegetables. As they got closer Grimm recognized the hobbit. It was Fredgar Hornblower, Shiriff of Hobbiton. He bowed to the Shirriff and smiled "G'day Shiriff Hornblower. Me and my dear friend here, Cree, are hungry. Could we have some of the stew you are cooking? Of course I can pay you for it." The hobbit looked up and smiled as he saw them. "No, no, dont worry! It's for free to everyone. Many are hungry and tired so everyone deserves a good meal."

He fumbled on the ground beside the big pot after two bowls and spoons. He handed them each bowl and spoon and served them some of the stew. "You got anything for Avalon here?" he said and grinned to the hobbit. Grimm pointed at the bird. The hobbit grinned and looked around himself for something. He hummed and digged after something in his pocket. He got up a small pouch of leather and handed it to Grimm. Grimm loosed the rope and opened it. It contained birdseed. "That's all I got that the bird could have" the Shiriff said. Grimm nodded and said "I understand, that will be fine, thank you!"

They walked outside again with the bowls with stew in their hands. They sat down on the lawn again outside and Grimm poured out the seed in the grass for Avalon. She flew directly to the seed and pecked it. He smiled to Avalon. He held up the bowl under his nose and smelled at it and closed his eyes. It smelled delicious. He took up his spoon and took a mouth of it. He hummed and said to Cree "It tasted wonderful, I have never been this hungry in my whole life" He grinned to Cree and then turned to his stew.

[Kransha]

“Indeed,” murmured the Halfling inwardly. He swept aside the small evergreen frock coat that was draped over his vest and small, narrow-gaited shoulders. He stepped forward, still looking slightly nervous as his sharp eyes continually shot poisonous glances at the item that dangled from the new man’s side, now concealed beneath his garments. Executing a concise bow, he addressed the two of them politely, though the pleasantry that dripped from his voice was false for the most part. He was still too on edge to be genuinely pleasant towards anyone, and the tension within him had risen as he sensed some hostility from the man before him.

“Tobias Hornblower the Third, of Longbottom. Of course, most folk simply call me Toby.” He waved his cloak behind him with a slight flourish before he rose, staring more intently at the faces of the two, seemingly assessing every inch of their expression, “I am truly pleased to make your acquaintance, Miz Falconhand…and yours as well, Mister..umm…Thorg, was it? Yes, that was the name, correct? I do believe it was."

His thick eyebrow elevated gently and arched for a moment, but soon settled above his eye, drifting until the eyelid lowered and Toby’s look became wearier. He pulled his cloak around him again and stepped back, shaking some stable debris from the leathery sole of his left foot. Looking up again after a precise examination of his foot, he continued the statement, trying to force a smile to creep over his features and make him look at least slightly more presentable than he looked, with the ill frown upon his face.

“I do not in truth desire you to leave, Madam,” he said to Morrigna Falconhand, “That outburst you had the misfortune to witness was merely a tired and angry hobbit venting ill-begotten wroth gained in the past, it was no true reflection of my current feelings. This is not my inn, nor my stable, nor my property, and you may come and go upon it as you please. If anyone wishes you to vacate these grounds, it would be Miz Aman, the innkeeper, and I assure you she has a much more tolerant disposition than I, from what I know of her. Do what you will here at the Green Dragon. I’m positive you’re help in rebuilding this structure would be much appreciated by the folk around here.” After finishing his brief and ever-so-slightly overdramatic oration, Toby Hornblower curtly bowed a second time, merely nodding his head at the two, and added, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, my companion and I have some business to attend to.” He whirled around, preparing to continue his stern reprimand, only to find Snaveling’s cot unoccupied. His eyes scanned the whole stable in an instant, sweeping over the room like primitive optical radar, but he saw no sign of the shrouded man. His eyes shriveling into irritated slits once again, he turned back on his heels to face the newcomers yet again. He again tried to force a smile and failed miserably.

“It appears,” he said, trying to be pleasant but obviously very exasperated, “that the business I mentioned no longer requires attending to. Might I be so bold as to ask if you saw the aforementioned compatriot of mine run off somewhere while I was occupied? I fear he may be trying to escape me, for what reason I know not.”

Vondros's eyes flicked to the side door, toward which he gestured with a bony arm. "I believe your... friend... left in that direction whilst we were conversing," he replied in lieu of Tobias's inquiry, and for the first time a flicker of emotion crossed his face: the corners of his mouth twitched, as though he meant to smile but had forgotten how over the course of years. "My apologies for the distraction."

Morrigna, during this converse, was busily stabling the horse -which was quite large, it might be mentioned, perhaps even enough to be considered a war-charger- and looked up briefly from her work, arching an eyebrow at the cloaked youth just outside the stall. Brushing her hands off on her leggings, she stepped out. "Well, that's taken care of," she remarked with an air of self-satisfaction. Her friend nodded his head once and half-turned, looking back out through the stables to the surrounding area.

"Then we should be moving on," he suggested quietly. "We did come here, I presume, to help rebuild- though I've never quite been sure of your motives." He chuckled under his breath, shaking his head.

It was not a particularly pleasent sound.

"Guess who I learned it from," Morrigna replied cheerily, tilting her head and grinning wolfishly. "You're one to talk. We've lost at least a handful of allies thanks to others who aren't as discreet as I would like about your identity." Now it was her turn to draw a cautioning look, but she just shrugged it off. "We're both remnants from the Third Age, nothing more," she commented in an undertone. "Why be ashamed of what you were?"

"Ashamed?" Vondros hissed back, his eyes widening in surprise. "Never that, but you know as well as I what happens when-" He stopped himself. "Not everyone is willing to accept such as I," he finished with dignity. "Not yet. Come." He swept an arm in the direction of the Inn. "Manual labor awaits."

Kiyvan walked up the trail to the Green Dragon. But to his shock it was no longer standing, in its place was a handfull of workers appearing to be repairing the broken inn. As he got closer he lifted his dark hood to get a better look at his surrondings. The inn appeared to have held a large blaze in its bowls at one time.

Now at the former inn Kiyvan was willing to offer any help his human hands could lend to the workers. Laying his bow and sword to the ground Kiyvan looked around for the inn keeper to see if he could help.

[Kransha]

“Yes, of course…thank you.” Toby murmured this almost glibly as he turned swiftly and scurried out of the stable in the direction that Snaveling had most likely headed, as he deduced from the newcomer’s guesses. He was outside instantly, flitting like a carrion bird over the grounds towards the structural framework of the inn, where Snaveling was probably loitering. “Snaveling,” he cawed, continuing the strange bird-phase he was presently in, “Wherever you have run off to, do not think that avoiding me will help your case!” He continued dodging more nimbly past the many workers of the inn, being careful not to collide or make any physical contact with anyone.

After scanning the area with his eyes, which seemed now to be bursting from his pointed snout and skull, he came upon the visage of Snaveling, who was busy helping the process of a lifting a particularly imposing wooden beam with his back turned to the gentlehobbit. Tobias Hornblower caught passing glances of the man’s stern face as it turned sideways every few moments to inspect his own doings. Avoiding more workers, the hobbit ran right up to Snaveling and jabbed him indignantly in the back, simultaneously emitting a vulgar snorting noise. He didn’t even care that the thrust with his index finger had almost caused Snaveling to lose his grip on the beam.

“Snaveling, I demand a private audience with you immediately. You have eluded my reprimands long enough, and now you will hear them. Come, and we will discuss these things like gentlemen, unless you would prefer to explain your actions here and now, without delay! Be quick about your decision, Snaveling, for these events have made my well of patience run dry. Do not idly loiter here, for you know not the sting of a learned hobbit's words.”

Toby remained completely oblivious to the fact that Roa and Galadel were standing on either side of Snaveling, also assisting with the beam and clearly hearing his every word. Not quite comprehending that, Tobias tapped his large foot impatiently upon the ground, with a stern, lopsided grimace marring his expression.

[Crystal Heart]

Crystal watched as she realized that this person that had saved her, helped her was completely right. Life was all about beginnings and endings. Starts and finishes. Life and death. A certain amount of tradgey made someone truly realize that and if she had never said it to Crystal then she would never have thought about it.

The world was like a vast book that's pages were waiting to be written on by people's lives. Like a stage that would never end where the stories intertwined, some dying some staying until the very end. Others would out last the older ones because they had just begun. A never ending play.

She sat in silence, amazed at the truth of the woman's words.

[rutslegolas]

Buttercup wound her way around the regular lads and came with a tray full of freshly filled ale glasses and came to where Harold Brandybuck and the Gaffer were sitting,the smell of some new pipeweed attracted her.She served them new pints of ale and took a whiff of smoke and exclaimed and sat down with them.

Harold giving her some of his house grown pipeweed explained that he had not named the pipeweed but he thought it was "Gondorian Pride".Buttercup very muched liked the weed and explained that another hoobit named Carl Brandybuck too had the same pipeweed ,but its smell was a different.

Due to all this confusing names the Gaffers head was swinging and he called for another mug of beer and turned the topic of the disscuesion to another way since he did not understand any of this pipeweed thing he was content only to smoke one that was good enough for him.

Now Buttercup explained how she had been kept busy with her work serving all the lads who came to rebuid the Inn.While explaining this their came a loud bang kinda of something falling.

"Whoa! ",Buttercup explained they all turned in the direction of the noise and found that some hobbit had fallen of his stool and his cup had smashed into a thousand tiny pieces.Buttercup was picking up the pieces of the cup and Harold helped her too.........

[piosenniel]

Buttercup

Harold held the dustpan while Buttercup swept up the broken shards of the mug – a task made more difficult by the fact that the broom was not all that effective in the grass of the Inn yard. ‘Wouldn’t want any of us Hobbits to cut our feet,’ she said, crouching down to pick up the last few splinters with her fingers. Harold nodded his head at this and knelt down to help her.

The long rays of the late afternoon sun made it easy to see the mug pieces. Their glazed surfaces shone a little in the light. They were down to the last few splinters when a shadow fell over the little plot of grass they were working on. Buttercup looked up only to see the figure of Ruby, the other server in the Inn, standing over them, blocking the sunlight.

‘Aren’t you Harold,’ Ruby asked, ‘the fellow who has been making the chairs and table for us?’ Harold stood up, shaking his head ‘yes’ at the Hobbit’s question. ‘Well,’ continued Ruby, ‘I was sent to find you. The Common Room’s floor is all finished and swept and waxed. Could you get your chairs and tables up into the Inn and get them arranged, please. Get some of the other lads to help you.’ Ruby turned then to Buttercup. ‘And we’re to get the pots and pans and cooking and eating utensils hauled back into the kitchen. The men who were helping with that have the cabinets redone and we can get all the things we’ve cleaned put away.’

Buttercup stood and dusted her hands off on her apron. ‘Well, we’d best get to it, then,’ she said to Ruby. ‘See you later, Harold,’ she said. ‘Don’t hurt your back getting those tables moved.’ She stood close to Harold and whispered to him. ‘There’s plenty of lazy-bones around here – drinking the free ale and eating our stews. Round ‘em up and get them to help you!’

Ruby pulled her away toward the piles of pots and pans. Buttercup gave a last wave to Harold and ran after her friend.

[Nirvana II]

Carl, while still working on some furniture, was approached by Buttercup, a maid at the Inn which he had not had a chance to talk to, being surrounded by hobbit lads and gaffers. She asked "What exactly is the name of this new pipe-weed? It does not smell of Southlinch, or of any Shire pipe-weed. What is it?" In perfect Carl fashion, he answered in full, "It is a blend of what Gondorian men call sweet galenas bred with Southern Star, Old Toby, and Longbottom Leaf. My cousin Hildi and I grow it in Longbottom. If you wish, on my next ride I could bring a sample of what I have dubbed Gondorian Pride back to the Inn. I shall ask Aman very soon!"

"Well,” she replied, “may I try some of this Gondorian Pride please?"

"Of course, I happen to have some with me at the moment (and in the popularity my leaf has gained in an afternoon, I should rightly think that I will always have some)."With that he gave her two things, a large amount of the leaf, and a curious pipe, made of silver. “One of two that my father gave me. He was once visited by Elves, you know. Think of me when you smoke!" with that, he continued with his work.

About an hour later, Regin, the head of rebuilding the Inn came to him while he was making furniture. “Excuse me young sir but I do not recall ever seeing you and wish to introduce myself. My name is Regin Hardhammer and I am in charge of this rebuilding process. I am very grateful for your help in the project, and hope that you stay for a while for the rebuilding party after the completion of the Inn. I have not smoked quality weed for an extremely long time, for these days it is very hard to come by, especially on the road. I do not know the name of the blend you have, but it smells delightful. May I relieve you of a portion, only a pipe full perhaps?"

"Well of course Master Hardhammer! I am Carl Brandybuck, a hobbit of Whitwell at your service!" Carl handed Regin and large amount of the leaf. “And as for staying at the Inn when it is complete, I might move here from Whitwell, sir. My blend is very special, it is a combination of sweet galenas, Southern Star, Old Toby, and Longbottom Leaf. I have said that so many times it is getting redundant. My Cousin Hildi gave me a large supply when I left Longbottom, so I am planning a return trip to attempt to make the plant indigenous to this area. Now that I have said that, I must find Aman! Good day to you, Master Hardhammer!" With that he strode away to find Aman. She had been at the stables.

"Ah, good Master Brandybuck, how may I help you?" she said.

“Tomorrow I am leaving for Longbottom to replenish my stock of Pride. I need your permission to grow it around Bywater."

“Well of course, Carl. That Pride of yours is wonderful!"

[Feared Half-Elf]

Elkamia glanced around her, at all the people scurrying around. The tables were starting to go into the common room, and the pans were starting to go back into the kitchen. The whole place was a hive of activity.

It was a far cry from the scene only a week ago, when the inn was still smouldering and chaos reigned. A lot had changed, a lot had been destroyed that night.

She shook her head and smiled to herself, massaging her lower left arm. She'd been doing a lot of manual work with the menfolk since the fire, and finally it was showing. It was nothing more than an aching muscle, caused by trying to pull a beam by herself, not a good move when they weighed plenty. She smiled again and stretched, and headed down to the field where some of the horses and ponies still stayed.

Her own silver mare Annufin was here still. She trotted over as Elkamia leapt the fence. She was large, a horse of the elves and bred as a war horse first and foremost. The other few horses still up here grazed peacefully.

She came down here every afternoon, and she needed it more today than any other. Normally she didn't mind when others smoked, the smell of the pipeweed didn't usually bother her. A new pipeweed was around tonight, though, one she hadn't smelled before, borne by that young man Carl. The Hobbits and that dwarf Regin had crowded around him like moths to a lantern at night, but she couldn't stand the stuff. The Hobbits liked it, but to her it was sickly. She had never been a smoker and probably never would be, disgusting habit. Who needed more fog when the skys produced enough already?

She sighed, stroking the mane of Annufin. The sun caught her hair as she stood there, thinking. a lot of her time was spent thinking, that or fighting. She didn't get so much fighting these days, not since she played an important part in the War of the Ring.

She grimaced as the breeze brought her a noseful of that disgusting, sickly pipe weed. Time to get back, she thought, and hurried back to the Inn. She still had work to do before the day was out.