The Green Dragon

[the witch king]

Amron looked down, when he looked up his face was grim, "war pressis closely on the men of Gondor I fear that the walls of Minas Tirith will not stand for alot longer."

After a short silence Amron turned to Marithorn "Do you know if the men of Umbar still fight under the dark lords banner?"

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami Goodchilde came scampering into the Inn, running up to the bar where Piosenniel was doling out drinks. When the Elf saw the hobbit, she stared in amazement. "But I thought you'd retired to the early Third Age? Aren't you supposed to be with the hobbits on the Anduin? I was just talking about that with another hobbit friend."

Cami grinned and shook her head, "That's a long story!"

Somehow, that disclosure did not surprise Piosenniel. Most stories connected with Cami generally turned out to be long ones.

"I've cleaned up the situation in the Anduin, and left my son Gamba in charge."

At this, Pio struggled to keep a straight face. Gamba was known for his talent at getting into scrapes and scuffles. Putting Gamba in charge of anything would be risk indeed!

"I heard there's an opening here for an assistant Innkeeper. I'm not too good at serving drinks, but I'm a wicked cook and have been known to wash a dish or two in my day as well as tidying up the rooms where the guests stay overnight. Perhaps, I could give you a hand?"

At this point, before Pio could answer, Cami began striding around the main bar room, introducing herself to one and all, and promising to tell a story later on, once everyone had assembled for the evening."

Before the Elf could stop her, the hobbit had offered free drinks to many, and brought out several large platters of mushroom stew "compliments of the house."

As Cami dished up the stew, she added, "If any would like to tell me a tale about their ancestor or kin, there'll be a free steak and kidney pie in it for you. Who'll go first?"

In the meantime, the guests resumed their somber conversation on the wicked state of affairs in Middle-earth, and the Shadow that seemed to be creeping over everything in sight.

[ December 20, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

The stranger smirks, pulling up a chair, sitting a little distant from the group. "Ay... i must apologize, ms... i was rude, but your ring interests me. I no longer have a name, but Dire Lance will suffise. A home i have not, so i wander idly. Recently this business of the dark army and all has made me long for a bit more peaceful places; that's why i ended up here. Unfortunately, my past isn't some lovely tale for you to hear..." He holds up the ring to the light. "Mainly, it involves this little bobble, and a nice little group of orcs who decided a young man was a good toy." He leans back idly. "That was a long time back... I was just leaing a nice little village, when i came upon the band of orcs in the woods... i was quite as skilled then; needless to say, i more walked into them then the other way around. They chased me a good distance, and i have to admit, i was completely lost. Eventually i tried to hide from them in a small cave. I hid as far back as i could, but apparently i wasn't hidden enough. They entered the cave, and i tried to hide further.... that's when i found this little gem... after that, i don't remember; all i know is, i walked out, and they didn't. The next thing i can remember is being a good distance away, covered in orc blood, a sword haft in hand, and this scar on my eye. Since then, i've never looked back, and never tried to go back, going as far from fighting as i can.... and, that's it." He shrugs, eyeing Valeria's ring still.

[AddictedtoRumil]

Carnil(me)enters the Green Dragon with her brother Calaglin and they take a seat giggling "I can't believe that i fell for another one of your tricks dear brother ride to Rohan as if!" and Calaglin laughed and said "Sorry i knocked you off your horse like that sister but i could not resist" "Yes just like how i could not resist to pull your hair brother" replied Carnil "Sister bring me a pint i am thirsty." "and what do i look like your slave?" "You are today sister" "Well whatever." and Carnil walked up to the bar to get herself and her brother a pint.

[Mithadan]

The door opens and a preternatural cold fills the room. A figure cloaked entirely in black enters the Inn. He pulls back his hood, revealing a ghoulish skull from which hang shreds of skin and muscle. His eyes are burning red orbs.

The room falls silent except for some hushed whispers. "A Wight! One of the Barrow-Wight's administrators!"

He looks about for a moment, then his gaze settles upon Aragorn2002 and the Witch King. He smiles companionably (or thinks he does for he has no lips to speak of). Then he speaks with a hiss.

"Welcome to the Barrow-Downs and the Green Dragon Inn, Aragorn2002 and the Witch King. Here you may introduce yourself and your characters to others and seek out an adventure to join or tell a tale if you wish. But this is not the place to engage in conversations, especially with posts made up only of a line or two. For that you may use PMs or our chatroom (linked to our splash page at www.barrowdowns.com). And here are some of our rules. The rest are posted in the Redbook of Westmarch..."

2. Write in complete sentences and in paragraph form. Each post that you make should be at least two paragraphs in length with each paragraph made up of at least two sentences (there are times when a one-line post is appropriate but this should be rare). Separate the paragraphs with a space. This makes your posts easier to read and more enjoyable for everyone. When a character speaks, his or her words should go between quotation marks.

and

8. Listen to the moderators. They are trying to help.

He voice rose to a screech until the glasses shook and clinked on their trays. "Enjoy yourselves but keep the Rules in mind lest I or another moderator return to haunt you for the rest of your days!"

With that, he swept out of the room. Some of the customers noted that his bony feet did not touch the ground. "A bit theatrical, don't you think?" commented Piosennial sardonically.

[ December 19, 2002: Message edited by: Mithadan ]

[AddictedtoRumil]

Carnil returns to the table and sits next to her brother and hands him his pint and takes a sip of her own and nothing is said for a moment until Carnil breaks the silence "So..are you still thinking of going to the Grey Havens?" and her brother looks her in the eye and says "Yes i have made my decision" and Carnil looks at her brother and says "And the decision is?.." and her brother laughs and says "I am not going sister." and Carnil smiled brightly and hugged her brother. "I am so glad your staying!!" and after hours of chatting her brother stood up and said "The hour is late i must go i will see you tomorrow sis namarie" and Carnil waved at her brother and said "Ok namarie."

Then Carnil took a seat in the corner and started to hum a tune and looked around the room and then at her empty mug. She went up to the bar and got another ale and sat quietly drinking her ale.

[VanimaEdhel]

Estelarion and Menelduliniel looked around the Inn.

"I am bored," Menelduliniel stated, simply.

"What?" Estelarion said, turning to her, surprised.

"You heard me," she said.

"Well...well..." Estelarion stuttered, "What do you expect me to do about it?"

"Nothing," Menelduliniel said, "I am going for a walk."

With that, she stood up and exited the Inn. Estelarion sat that, looking after her, stunned. When he collected himself, he stood up and ran after her.

"Are you okay?" Estelarion asked, as they walked on the street.

"Of course," Menelduliniel said, "I just wanted to see some of this area."

"Okay," Estelarion said.

They walked in silence for a good while, looking around at this new, peaceful-seeming land...

[AddictedtoRumil]

Carnil grows bored and finishes her pint and then walks outside for some fresh air and pulls the hood over her head. She stands outside and looks around the night air feels cool on her skin and she relaxes.

Carnil eyes are still gazing around with interest as most elves do and she eyes a man standing not too far from her gazing at the sky (Marithorn). She approaches him and pulls down her hood and says "You look very familiar...allow me to introduce myself i am Carnil an elf from Imladris and you are?..."

[AddictedtoRumil]

Carnil faces Marithorn "That is too bad that you city is under siege." Carnil pauses at the sound of a rustling near the bushes and then looks back at Marithorn.

"I came here just to see what it would be like i have never been anywhere out of Imladris before." Carnil gazes around the area and then continues speaking "This place looks so different at night i hope you find who you are looking for."

[Derakis]

Derakis had been sitting quietly, half-listing to the conversations that go on, but as he hears of the siege of Minas Tirith, he pays particular attention. He is grieved to hear the desperate situation of the White City.

He interjects himself into the conversation. “Once long ago, I could have said that the Riders of Rohan will support Gondor in all it’s battles, but alas, those days are gone.”

[ December 20, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Aragorn2002]

Save for re-worked post of Aragorn2002

[ December 20, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]
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CHEVROLET CORVETTE C5 Z06

[The Barrow-Wight]

The Barrow-Wight stepped forward and, using their own poor methods agains them, told the chat-RPGers to start writing up to the written standards of the Shire or they would be reprimanded immediately.

He stepped back, keeping a close eye on those he accused and waiting to see if they got his message. To while away the time, he began to polish his right boot, smiling as he realized his post was nothing like theirs and had fulfilled the very basic ideals of writing in The Green Dragon and The Shire.

[ December 19, 2002: Message edited by: The Barrow-Wight ]

[Valeria, Witch of Angmar]

Valeria listened carefully to Amron's words. "I have no reason to trust him," she admitted, "but I have no reason not to. I will hear him out and past judgement on him then."

She took note of Dire Lance's story; A strange name, she muses, but I have heard stranger in my travels. She notices him looking at her ring again and examines his from the corner of her eye. She felt as though she'd heard of such a ring before, but could not summon up a name and so pushed the thought aside.

A Wight entered and made a small speech which turned everyone's heads for a time, then talk turned to Gondor and the siege of the White City. Valeria's ears pricked up at the name and she saw Derakis's interest as well. It appeared as though battle loomed on the horizon for Minas Tirith.
Are you there, beloved? she wondered silently. Have you gone to battle there, or am I just chasing a ghost?

Almost as the thought finished passing through her head, the Barrow Wight spoke up for the first time in a long while. She smiled at the smug expression he wore, as her fingertips traced the stone in her ring.

[ December 20, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Derakis]

Derakis nods to Marithorn. “Indeed. I come from a village just south of Edoras. I lived there with my father and younger brother until five years ago. My father was a Rider of the Mark, and during an attack on our village by orcs, he died defending it. I left my brother there, since he began to serve as a Rider as my father had, and I wandered the wilderness, hunting and defending people from orcs.”

He smiled sadly. “I wanted to ensure that the tragedy that befell my father never happened to anyone else. I know now that I can’t save everyone, and that terrible things happen, despite all our efforts. But the real important thing is making an effort.” He shook his head. “I apologize. I have got off on my own little story.”

[ December 20, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

Dire smirks, making a half bow to Valeria "Aye, no better words have ever been said on trust then those.." He grins slyly, winking and lowering his voice to a whisper. "And, for a spot of funding or a pint of ale, i can be very trustworthy... i may avoid the war with darkness, but death and i be no stranger... you'll not find one more skilled than i in that little dance without searching long and wide; and i'm willing to bet you'd still end up back here talking to me...."

********************************************

Dire--

Please check your Private Messages (PM's).

[ December 20, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Deorlin]

Deorlin turned at Sadbh's approach and rose, towering a good two heads above the girl. She extended her hand and offered him the stachel. Taking the bag he peered inside. "Did they have all we asked for?" he queried. "Yes, and I see you've found the nettle." Sadbh replied.

"It wasn't hard." Deorlin chuckled. He held up a fistful. "Now, let's find a bucket. I'm not sure of the exact proportions, but we can try." He led their way back to the stable. Sadbh produced the half of a small candle, and by it's faint glow they found an empty pail. Deorlin dipped some water out of a rain barrel at the corner and proceeded to pour in the salt, then crushing up a handful of mint and the handful of nettle and adding them to the pail. lastly, he added all of the honey, hoping its sweetness would hide the unusual taste and coax the horse to swallow what he hoped would be a cure for the assumed poison. So many "ifs" he mused.

"Pat his neck and speak to him softly, Sadbh, and we'll see if we can get him to swallow this lot." Deorlin instructed. As the girl tried her best to sooth the animal, the young Rohhirim placed his hand under its jaw and pried the mouth open with his thumb. Using his arm to lever the head upwards, he quickly poured the contents of the pail as best he could into the mouth, then clamped his hand over the horse's nostrils, vaguely remembering that in this way his uncle had been sucessful in getting horse to swallow unpalatable tastes. Half of the mixture had not even made it into the horse's mouth, but Deorlin hoped enough had gone in to do the trick. After a few seconds of surprised indignation, the horse swallowed with a reassuring gulp.

"Well, I guess that's the best we can do for now." Deorlin tried to sound confident. "Let's go in and have something to eat ourselves. At least I for one could use a wet ale and some hot food. "

[Sadbh]

With a final pat of the horse's neck, Sadbh turned and nodded at Deorlin. "And what other kind of ale is there beisdes a wet one?" She laughed faintly at her mild joke. As they walked down the stables, she heard a familiar voice crooning a song from Dale. Interested, she concentrated her vision to see better in the light of the pale candle stub.

"Sadbh?" She heard a familiar voice inquire.

"A- Achae?" Sadbh's own soft voice filled with slow wonder and confusion. "Achae, what are you doing away from Lake Town?" Her eyes clearly showed surprise that her aquaintance was away from her homeland. "I certainly didn't expect to meet you! How is your family?" Her voice was now clearly pleased that she should meet own of her fellow countrymen.

"Come into the inn with us! We were just going in for a pint and a bite." Deorlin smiled at the other young woman.

Sadbh spoke to both as they stepped out again from the stables into the brisk air.
"Achae, this is Deorlin of the Westfold. He's a horseman, like all his kinfolk." She took a breath and continued as she opened the smooth handled door. "And Deorlin, this is Achae. She comes from Dale, as do I. I had no idea that I would run into any from my home." The three stepped into the warming atmosphere of the Green Dragon. As Deorlin took a long stride ahead, Sadbh asked Achae hopefully, "Achae, you know the prince, don't you? You haven't... seen him?" Her tone was pained.

[ December 19, 2002: Message edited by: Sadbh ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

The small hobbit Cami stood by the board valiantly trying to read everyone's post. She adjusted her spectacles on her nose, and strained her eyes, for indeed she was having an awful time.

She shook her head and moaned, "I am no Elf who has the gift of far seeing, and who can spot a scout faring some five miles away. I am a poor and elderly hobbit whose eyes are afflicted by a strange disease called "lack of paragraphs."

"I see folk here who do have something to say, but who put it all into a single block, with no paragraph breaks whatsoever. And with all of those sentences smashed tightly together, it is impossible for this poor hobbit to read any of their messages, which is a very sad thing.

"To help these folk out--especially Valeria and Derakis, I will edit their messages and magically make paragraphs appear. And I beg and I plead that next time they are here, they make sure to do this themselves."

"Others have visited the Inn, but failed to have much to say other than a chance line here and there, or a chatty retort. If you are one of these poor fellows, please edit your posts and add some content so that you comply with the rules listed below. If this is not done, you will see your posts disappear in the flash of an eye."

"And this one small hobbit and Innkeeper will be much obliged if everyone here follows the rules:

1. No chat-style rpgs, or one liners,
2. A minimum of two paragraphs per post, and two sentences per paragraphs."

Cami nodded to the group and headed out to fight the disease "lack of paragraphs"! And to those who followed the rules and produced quality posts, Cami politely bowed her head to acknowledge their contribution. Special kudos to Deorlin and Sadbh.....

[ December 20, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

A person by the name of Kirkis enters The Green Dragon. He is wearing a pitch-black cloak that covers his whole head (and most of his face) from being seen along with his body. The only bodypart seen on the man are his feet (and the handle of his sword also poked out a pinch). They were covered in thick brown leather boots. He grabs a table in the back and pulls down his hood.

You didn't have to know him to know that he was a foriegner to The Shire. His apperance and acts said it all. First off, he was a wood elf (a race not commonly found in The Shire) with long brown hair that would be a little below his shoulders if it was not held in a pony tail. He had dazaling eyes of saphire-blue that glimmered in the moonlight. Second, he didn't appear as humble and jolly as most of the folk in the shire. Third, he had the mystical, eerie eyes of and adventurer for he was in fact one. He looked for adventure everywhere he went. In fact, that was his reason for coming to the Shire. But now he just wanted to relax and be left alone for he had just traveled a great disantce from the forest of Mirkwood were the wood elves live.

There is also one more thing about Kirkis I will not reveal just yet...

[ December 20, 2002: Message edited by: Richard II son of Richard I ]

[Gorothlammothiel]

Day had passed in the Shire as the bright afternoon turned to a dim evening. Soronûmë was still sat and the table with the star maiden Elwen.

Elwen had asked Soronûmë to play her flute and she held it out to him. It was a beautiful instrument and very capable of enchanting music in the hands of a skilled player. Soronûmë was not that. "I am sorry my lady for I am no musician. Certainly not one worthy of playing the flute you hold so dear." Soronûmë extended his arm and carefully closed the maiden's hand around the cool metal. Elwen recoiled her hand, looking somewhat puzzled and disappointed. She had been so sure she had found another who could play her flute, and didn't doubt that he could. To Elwen, Soronûmë seemed to be hiding something, she had heard him sing earlier and knew he was talented.

Soronûmë looked up to a window on a far wall, avoiding eye contact with the star maiden. Finally he said, "If you will excuse my lady, I should be on my way." Soronûmë picked himself up and fastened his mantle about his shoulders. Raising his hood he made way to the door he smiled to Elwen as he left. Elwen too got up and followed Soronûmë outside.

[Aragorn2002]

He looks up into the sky for a while, his black hair flowing in the cool mid afternoon breeze breeze, and then quite hastily he makes his way back into the Green Dragon, quietly closing the sqeaking door behind himself.

He then walks very quickly towards the counter inside the Inn, and order yet another ale since he has nothing better to do.

After a few minutes he walks over to a corner in the Inn, sits down in a chair and trys to take a quick nap.

[ December 20, 2002: Message edited by: Aragorn2002 ]
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RHODE ISLAND MARIJUANA DISPENSARY

Kirkis still sits in the corner of the Green Dragon. He watches as every one else talk with each other.

"This seems to be a very lively place. I may be able to find someone in need of my services."

He then flipped his hood over his head and layed back on his chair and kicked his feet up on the table. Sleep fell upon his tired body.

[Aragorn2002]

He turns restlesly in his sleep, having a nightmare of the terror that takes place in his beloved homeland. He wakes with a started, his his long sword falling noisely to the ground with a clang.Clang! A few people turn their heads towards him, but then return to there ales.
He then wipes the dripping sweat from his forhead, and tries restlessly to get back to sleep, but keeps having the same hrrific nightmares of the boiling blood of his people, laying still on the ground, except for when the evil orcs and uruk-hi step through it.

[ December 20, 2002: Message edited by: Aragorn2002 ]
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Avandia settlement information

Kirkis wakes up from his nice nap. He stretches, takes off his hood, and gets up. He trails on outside the door of the Green Dragon for some fresh air. The crisp dark sky was lit up by the hansome, bright moon in the night sky. His eyes glew beautifly in the moonlight.

He felt a cold wind pass by so he went back in to his table. He takes a deep breath and released it. He sat back and obseved his surroundings.

Kirkis yawns in boredom. He starts drifting off to sleep but he quickly wakes himself up.
"I need to keep awake. All this sleeping isn't healthy. I need to something to do. I'll do anything."

He starts to drift off into sleep but is still awake

[ December 21, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Aragorn2002]

He gets sweating yet again because of the same horrific dream, so he walks across the quietly creaking floor and out of the Green Dragon to get some fresh air in his lungs instead of the think smokey air inside of the Green Dragon. He walks outside and sits on a chair and looks out into the night sky trying to relax, but he finds it impossible with the fate of his people troubling his mind.
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Ktm 450sx-f

[Nurumaiel]

Robin had fallen asleep, if that were possible, and had missed many of the going-ons in the Green Dragon. Now she awoke with a start, and looked blearily about her, trying to remember where she was and what she was doing there. She saw Dinodas sitting beside her, so she leaned over and whispered in his ear, "Where am I?"

Dinodas hid a smile. After all, it wasn't the lass's fault she had fallen asleep. She'd had many adventures the day before, if adventures they could be called, and she had not been to bed until very late, waking up early to help with the chores.

"You're in the Green Dragon, Robin," he whispered back.

"Oh, yes, that's where," muttered Robin, looking annoyed. "I must be going old or something."

Dinodas laughed outright and drew the attention of many sitting around their tables. He gave a friendly wave to them all. "At the moment Robin is not quite up to it," said he, "but soon I can promise you a song or two from her."

Robin gave him a piercing glance but smiled at the others and nodded, and Dinodas went to get a drink.

[Aragorn2002]

Marithorn's dark black hair is blowing in the cold whistling wind, and thinks of the troubles facing his people, and when and if he will go back to defend the by himself. It then gets to cold out and he slowly paces in the Inn.

The wooden floor creaks beneath his feet, as he walks over to his chair in the corner and thinks his plan of return over, and over in his tired mind. His face looks old, and weary from being so encredibly sleepy.He almost dozes off but stops himself knowing it will only end up in another long nightmare.

The people around continue with there drinks and conversations. Some huddle around the fire and talk, while others sit at the counter drinking their ales, with what seems like they have not a care in the world.
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Home Made Vaporizer

[Valeria, Witch of Angmar]

Valeria shot Dire Lance a glare when he tried to offer his services as a blade. Her blue eyes narrowed. "I have trouble enough without hiring any, thank you very much," she said, and turned back to her drink.

A hobbit named Cami spoke up suddenly and Valeria's face turned as crimson as her cloak when she heard her name mentioned. She ducked her head in embaressment and through she saw Dire Lance snicker.

Her head lifted, though, at the clang of a sword on the floor. A stranger in the corner gathered his weapon quickly and soon moved for the door. There was a wild look in his eyes, as if he were greatly troubled. Valeria wondered, but was silent.

A few moments later, the stranger returned and began to pace the floor. Sighing, he returned to his seat in the corner. Despite the weariness on his face, he seemed determined not to fall asleep.

A dream, then?, Valeria mused. If sleep is so much his enemy, it can be nothing else.

She turned her eyes to the windows. Outside, night was approaching.

[ December 20, 2002: Message edited by: Valeria, Witch of Angmar ]

[Merri]

The small hobbit girl slipped in through the doorway. This was an adventure for her; rarely did she leave her warm and cozy hobbit hole with all her beloved books and pretty clothes. She preferred spending her time with the old stories rather than going out on adventures on her own, but this time was different. Her beloved cousin was deathly ill. And she would fight with a tigress to protect the ones she loved.

She stood in the doorway of the crowded inn, looking around her in a puzzled manner. Elanor usually liked crowds, but only when they were crowds of people she knew and loved, and this was a crowd full of strangers. She liked remaining unnoticed, but she didn't take into account the fact that she was unusual-looking for a hobbit, so she would draw notice in any crowd. She was what some might call pretty.

Elanor grit her teeth together and plunged through the crowd towards an empty stool by the counter, and triumphantly climbed on to it.

One battle won.

[ December 21, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Aragorn2002]

Marithorn's eyes, deep with tire look over towards the door and notices the little hobbit walk in, but pays little attention.
He then let's his enemy(sleep) take over him. he once again falls into the same nightmare that has been troubling him his entire journey.

The people around soon become to fade, and then disapear. His dream starts out in Gondor yet again, and he watches the people fight and die without cause. Then again, he awakes because of the dream. Boiling sweat dripps off of his foread.

Aragorn2002----Please see my private message to you.

[ December 21, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]
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Website Host

[The Barrow-Wight]

*** OUT OF CHARACTER ***

Aragorn2002's last statement shows that there are people here at the Green Dragon who do not understand the purpose of the Inn.

The Green Dragon is not an RPG game.

The Green Dragon is where you can...
(1) ... give a demonstration of your writing ability.
(2) ... see the writing abilities of others.
(3) ... find players for a Seeded Game

If you want to roleplay on a regular basis, join a game in progress (go to the Discussion threads and talk to the game owners) or ask the Innkeepers if you may start another.

We will be forced to delete any further misuse of the Dragon.

It's not that we don't want you here, we just want you in the RPGs more.

[Deorlin]

Deorlin smiled back at Sadbh's joke. "True enough, Sadbh. A 'dry' ale would be a rarity indeed. But my thirst is great enough, that I feel I could down a gallon of whatever brew they serve up here."

As they left the stable, a young woman, half hidden in shadow, called out to sadbh by name. After introductions were made, he greted Achae with a friendly nod of the head. He continued on into the inn, as Sadbh fell back a step to speak with her countrywoman. Passing in through the doorway, Deorlin glanced around. Spotting a table with three empty seats around it, he walked over and sat, trying to catch the eye of one of the busy barmaids who were scurrying back and forth with food and drink.

It had been a good hour or so since he had first tried, vainly, to order a meal. This time he was determined to stay put until something hot and something wet were placed before him. The two Daleswomen seated themselves at the table just as a small hobbit passed by, offering free drinks and stew! Quickly, before any could stop him, Deorlin grabbed three bowls and passed them around. The hobbit smiled and handed him three pints of ale. Deorlin quaffed his in one sip and reached for another. "I'm a little bit thirsty." he said, apologetically, as even the friendly hobbit looked somewhat taken aback.

His thirst somewhat abated, the young Rohhirim fell to on the stew. It was hot and fragrant and delicious! Sadbh and Achae hesitated, staring at him as he gulped huge spoonfuls down. Then, with understanding grins, they too began to eat.

At last coming up for air, Deorlin began to hear the chatter flying through the air. What was this? Someone speaking of Gondor - Minas Tirith under siege? And talk of the peole of Rohan riding to their aid?

"Did you hear that?" he asked his companions. "Have you heard any news of Gondor - is it true - has the Dark Lord made his move at last?"

[ December 21, 2002: Message edited by: Deorlin ]

[Sadbh]

Sadbh sighed and thought for a second. "I haven't heard any new to make me think otherwise." She shook her head. "Then again I haven't heard much news at all."

She gave a half smile to no one in particular and grimaced at the thought of the dark lord rising once more to power. This was reason for people to become wary indeed, though none she had met so far were suspicious of her or in their own actions. She scanned the inn quietly, stirring the hot stew absently with a spoon. Taking care to leave out any meat, she savored a spoon of vegetables.

She turned back to Achae and Deorlin and shrugged.

"What news of this have you heard, Achae, if any at all?" Her eyes showed keen, but grave interest in the subject and she leaned slightly over the bowl, resting her arms softly on the table. She aquired a troubled face, as she was weighing out different possibilities in her mind, wondering if...

With a shudder, she surfaced from her melancholy thoughts.

[Coral]

Achae was taken aback by the question, she had been lost in her own thoughts since finding Sadbh in the stables. Is was good to see an old friend in a place so unfamiliar to her. She nodded and slowly answered the question,

"I chose not to meddle in the affairs of others, I have no thoughts to something I know so little about...but what a thought that would be..."

Content with her hurried answer, Achae turned her attention back to her stew...

[Sadbh]

Sadbh, after hearing Achae's unsure answer turned back to Deorlin. He looked fairly puzzled and disapointed. Slowly, as not to tread on thin ice, she spoke again. "Deorlin... you haven't heard anything other on this matter?" She let a spoon full of rich, thick broth, drip back into the bowl.

With a tired exhalation, she leaned back into her chair. "Sorry, we coulldn't be of any more assitance."

He shrugged. "Oh no, no matter." But clearly, he was worried by this news, and the two women's lack of information had not helped.

"I'll get us some bread, shall I?" Sadbh broke the quiet with a cheery smile. The others nodded and she set off to the bar, where she wove her way through the crowds to find an empty spot at the bar. "Please, may I have a loaf of rye?" She asked the woman who stepped up from behind the bar. She was replied to with a nod.

In a short moment the woman came back with a loaf of soft brown rye cradled in a wicker bread basket.

"Thank you." Sadbh gave the woman two coins and set offf through the crowd, bread held close to her to avoid the unpleasant possibility of dropping it.

[Deorlin]

Deorlin grimaced as he finished the last of his stew. "No, Sadbh, I didn't expect any news. I'm just very worried. You see, the last several months, I have travelled about Middle Earth, acting as an emmissary of sorts for my king, trying to test the waters as it were. He's anxious to know just where the other peoples of Middle Earth stand regarding the Dark Lord, his rumored rebirth, and the growing threat of Mordor. I know to those in the far north, such as Dale, these threats may seem distant, unreal even. And in a quiet backwater like the Shire, it's likely that peoples such as these good hobbits may not even remember those dark ages past as anything more than myth."

"But we of Rohan know more certainly of what danger lies to the east. And our oft times allies in Gondor face the most immediate peril." Deorlin sighed and passed his hand over his face. "I have been gone too long! I must get back to Edoras and make my reports to my king. My family is of the Westfold, so they should be safe enough, for the moment. Saruman and Isenguard are near, and he has always been a friend to my people. But I worry . . . I worry."

Seeing the anxious looks on the faces of his companions, Deorlin was sorry to be speaking of such grim forebodings. To change the subject, he recalled Sadbh's original query to him regarding the royalty of Dale. Now why would she think that travellers might have some knowledge of the Prince? Had he left his father's kingdom?

"Well, I could bore you both with talk of myself and my people. I'm but a rough and ready soldier, just like my father." Deorlin failed to add that his father, Deorwine, was one of the first knights of the Mark, and answered directly to the king. "Tell me of yourselves - what brings two women of Dale to this peaceful and quaint corner of Middle Earth?"

[Merri]

Elanor looked up into yet another unfamiliar face. This face belonged to a young hobbit lad, who seemed jolly and relaxed. Elanor envied his comfort with his surroundings, then noticed that he had a steaming bowl full of something that smelled absolutely wonderful in his hands.

"It's the best Green Dragon has to offer in the way of meat and potatoes, miss, and you look as if you're in the need of a lot of such feedings." He said. His face was good natured, his voice cheerful. Elanor blushed.

"Thank you," She murmured, as he set the bowl before her.

"Where are you off to all alone, young miss, on such a night as this?" If it were any other male, he might have been teasing her, but his voice sounded young. He must still be a child, maybe not a year younger than her, but at least her age. And he was a good boy, she could see that. The fact that he was certainly not bad looking didn't escape her notice, either. She was a girl, after all.

She decided she liked him. "I'm going to care for my sick cousin down in Brandybuck," She replied, as she started in on the food, some of the most delicious she had ever tasted. "We're quite close- she won't have anyone else care for her." The boy made a noise of sympathy.

"That's pretty tough," He said, leaning against the counter.

"I don't believe we were introduced?" She began, in her quiet voice. It was a wonder he heard her over the bustle of the inn.

"Tom Proudfoot's my name, miss," He said, with a grin. "And you are?"

"Elanor Greenthumb," She replied, smiling.

[ December 21, 2002: Message edited by: Merri ]

As night falls upon the land, Kirkis gets up and decides he is hungry. After eating a little bit of food, he decided that his stay at the inn was coming to an end. But he would come back soon.

Kirkis walks outside, with his hood on, and mounts his beautiful black horse with a mane that glimmers in the moonlight. Before he rode off, he accually said goodbye to the inn.

"Good bye to you, The Green Dragon. I'll be back soon."

He rides off into the darkness with his hands gripping to the horses mane. He would be back soon.

Dire does indeed snicker in amusement at Valeria's blush, but stops quickly, listening to the others in the inn. He quietly sits, looking about, but shrugs to himself.

"Not so much hired trouble, as a blade at your side one can count on... when someone hires me, i fullfill my contracts; always." His eyes narrow, and his voice drops to a whisper once more. "And i have an interest in that ring. If it's anything like mine, it will be good to know where it is, and you know of mine. Tiss better to have me at your side where you can watch me, instead of at your back...."

[ December 21, 2002: Message edited by: DireLAnce ]

[Dark Shadow]

The faint sound of horses hooves was heard outside the in, followed by quiet footsteps, unheard by those inside. A tall, dark figure appeared in the doorway, a stranger who no one recognised. Dressed all in black and wearing a hood that showed none of its face, one could not even be sure of its kind. The build suggested Man or Elf, but there was no way of telling which. The figure entered the warm, glowing inn, looking out of place among all the bright and cheerful colours, and headed for a table in a dark corner away form the crowd without so much as removing cloak or hood.

The inn had fallen silent at the arrival of such a being, but raising its hooded head and looking in the direction of the innkeeper, the stranger broke the silence with two words, “Ale. Please.” The strange calm of the voice, as if by magic, restored the atmosphere of the inn, and chatter broke out again. The hooded figure let its head fall again, and sat, gazing into the fire.