The Green Dragon

[Coral]

Achae looked up and smiled for the first time since entering the Green Dragon. She pondered for a moment and answered the question with new enthusiasm.

"Oh, but Master Deorlin, life is tiresome in Dale. I wouldn't blame anyone for taking leave of such a place."

Achae looked to her companions, they seemed surprised that she had spoken so quickly. She took a bite of her bread and continued,

"The same routine, day after day! Let me tell you, I have much greater plans for this life...through death or toil, at least one woman of Dale will have made a difference in this tragic world."

[piosenniel]

'Ale, please' she heard the dark one say. She poured a pint of the Inn's rare obsidian ale, watching the creamy head rise in the tankard as it filled. A small plate of savories in hand, she approached the darkened table, and sat the drink and food before the stranger.

'Mae govannen, elendil! Here is drink to drive from you the shadows of the road, and savories to feed your spirit.'

She took the apron from round her and untying it, laid it on a chair next to her as she sat down. Her keen grey eyes assesed the figure which sat at ease before her. Reaching out a hand, she pushed the ale and food close before him, gesturing for him to begin.

'My name is Piosenniel, or Pio, if you wish - the erstwhile Innkeeper while Master Dwarin is away.' She looked closely into the shadows veiling the features of his face.

'Your cloak is heavy with the dust of long travelling, and even in shadow can be seen the cares which etch your countenance.' She leaned forward, interested in this newcomer.

'Will you not share your story with me?'

[Sadbh]

Sadbh felt a small grin tugging at the corner of her lips. She gave a small laugh. "An admirable plan, Achae. However, I did not find life in Dale so tiring." She cocked her head to the side and seemed to doze off for a few moments before she herself answered Deorlin's question.

Sadbh spoke clearly and slowly, and a polite, distant air had taken hold of her.
"My reason for travelling is none to complicated." She began mildly. "I simply left Dale a month or so ago, looking for someone." She took a pause for affect. "The Prince. Perhaps you know he left a year ago? He went off to Moria, to help a group of dwarves reclaim a precious jewel of theirs." Deorlin looked genuinely surprised.

"And so their you have it, the whole nine yards. Thrilling, hmm?" She asked sarcastically.

[Coral]

Achae saw the grin spread over Sadbh's face, and sunk deep in her seat. From humiliation or the need to be alone, she did not know. Her plan may seem foolish to some but she thought it to be a grand adventure awaiting her.

Achae looked to Sadbh at the mention of the Prince's disappearance and sighed,
"What a terrible misfourtune to have befallen us...but these are dark times..."

[ December 22, 2002: Message edited by: Coral ]

[Derakis]

Derakis takes a look around. He puts a few coins on the counter to cover any of his purchases not payed for.

He then procedes out toward the door. Putting his hood up over his face, he walks out the door.

[Merri]

Elanor had finished her stew, and the boy had been called back to his duties, so once again, she was left to her own thoughts and fancies.

She had been living alone in her large hobbit-hole since her dear mother died last year. Shortly after she was born, her father set off over the mountains with a group of dwarves and elves on some secret mission, never to return. She and her mother had given up all hope of his ever returning, and her thoughts turned to him.

What had happened to him? Was he still alive? And if so, where? Why hadn't he returned? Was he a prisoner of the Land of Mordor?

Elanor pushed this last question out of her mind. This could not be. But she distinctly remembered Gwain the dwarf's return. He was the only one who ever came back, and he would not say a word about what had happened to him. Why would he not say a word? Exactly what had happened on that journey that began sixteen years ago?

She had a strange hope that she might find out more about him on this journey of hers, for she was going over those same mountains that he had gone over so long ago.

[Nurumaiel]

Robin finished her tea and pushed her cup over to Dinodas, and then climbed onto the table. Many eyes turned to her, though a few of the laughing and talking men, elves, dwarves, and hobbits paid her no heed.

Robin suddenly felt afraid of singing in front of everyone, but she put on a cheery smile and looked down at Dinodas. Returning her smile, he pulled out a flute and stood onto the table next to her. Robin began to speak.

"All my friends here at the Green Dragon, some of you have traveled from far lands, and I hope to welcome you with this song.

"I'm not good at writing songs, but I try. Nurumaiel, my Elf friend, has been teaching me Elvish and I'm slowly learning. I wrote this song and I hope you'll enjoy it, even though I've never tried to write a song in Elvish before."

She nodded to Dinodas, and he put the flute to his lips. He began to play a haunting and beautiful melody, and everyone in the inn had their eyes on the pair, even if only for a brief moment.

Elen sila tere i mornie
Silme elen na, mi nulla fuin helle
Nu i helle eleni na titta celume
I linque na ullume vanya
Mi linque eleni sila
Carin titta eleni mi linque
A entona i celume na i alda
Vanya malinorne, tulca a tunda
Vanya na imen, ingole mar
A inye uva marilqua nin auri.

Robin ended her song and looked about the room, a pretty blush coming to her cheeks. With no closing words, she and Dinodas climbed down from the table, sat back in their chairs, and ordered some food.

[Valeria, Witch of Angmar]

Valeria bristled at Dire Lance's words. Her lip curled and she prepared to say something to him, when Derakis got up silently and left.

She watched him go. It seemed as though everyone she'd found was suddenly leaving...Maybe they had the right idea. Perhaps she had stayed too long.

Valeria turned back to Dire Lance. "You say you want to know about my ring, sir," she said. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I fear it is nothing like your own gem. Since you so wish to hear about it, though," and she held up her hand, "I will oblige you in that request."

"In the first few months after I left the Citadel, I soon fell in with a company of warriors. They traveled a portion of the countryside, defending small villages and settlements from a growing number of orc raids."

"I fell in love with one of the men in that band. He was the first person I ever told that I am a witch. I feared he would reject me, but instead he said that his mother had been a sorceress of a kind and that magic had come to his aid in the past. He saw no reason to fear it and no reason to fear me."

"I traveled with him and the others for several weeks. One day, as we approached a town to bargain for supplies, we saw a mass of orcs coming down out of the hills, headed for the town. I made to ride with the company and do battle with them, but my love held me back."

"He told me not go. I demanded to know why, and he said that he had dreamed of this. In the dream, I had ridden off to this very battle and had died. He said he would not have that and bade me ride off to where we had camped the previous night and he would meet me there as soon as he was able."

"I nearly refused, until he took this ring off of a chain he wore at his throat. He said it had belonged to his mother, the sorceress, and that it protected him. He hoped it would in turn protect me."

"I told him I could not take such a family treasure from him and made to give it back. Before I could, he slid it onto my hand and told me to ride. There was such command in his voice, it was like a spell in itself and I rode fast back to our old camp."

"When night fell and none of the company had returned, I started to ride back to the village. It was midnight when I reached it. The place was burned to the ground and the bodies of orc and man were strewn about. I searched the dead for my love but did not find him."

"Frantic, I rode to the next village and begged for news of the battle. The villagers there said that members of the company had passed through. Not long after I had ridden away from my beloved, a second group of orcs, far outnumbering my company, appeared from behind the hills on the other side of the village. The company was caught between and many perished. Those that did not die were grieviously hurt."

"The survivors had passed through the village where I then was, getting what supplies they could and riding fast away for fear of pursuit. One man told me that some of those who lived were so badly wounded that he did not expect them to live much longer. No one could tell me if my love was among the survivors."

Valeria's eyes seemed to reflect the firelight as much as the red gem on her hand. "I know not if my love lies in unmarked grave that I shall never find, or if he lives and yet battles on, on unknown field that may become his unmarked grave."

Valeria stood up, standing straight and proud. "I am tired of this not knowing. You asked for the tale of my ring, stranger, and I have given it. I have appreciated the hospitality of this place, but fear I have tarried too long. May whatever powers you believe in keep you safe. I go to find my love."

She turned away from the table, placing some coins on the bar as she left. She passed out the door and to the stables where she mounted her horse, Lestrata. Horse and rider raced into the dark.

Cold wind snapped Valeria's hair like a midnight flag. A single snowflake drifted down from above.

Dire watched her go, his eyes sad. "Aye, a ring, but not the same indeed..." He sighs, looking idly into the night, as if seeing something, then nods, muttering.

"Tiss indeed time to go my friend... it is not here..." His eyes seemed to flicker, glowing briefly red, then he began walking towards the door, intent on leaving into the night/

[ December 23, 2002: Message edited by: DireLAnce ]

[Dark Shadow]

The stranger drank deeply of the ale, ignoring the food that had been set in front of him. He was aware of the presence of the Elf, and he looked away. It had been so long since he'd spoken with anyone and he felt awkward, wary almost. Who could he trust?

'Thank you,' he said at last.

He sat back in his chair and surveyed the one who sat before him. Looking around as though to check who was watching, he slowly removed the hood which hid his face. The fair hair was dusty and lust less. His face looked weary and tired from long, restless travel. However, despite the rest of his appearance, his clear blue eyes shone in his face as if he were upon the brink of a journey, rather than tiring from one he had been long upon.

‘My name,’ he begun ‘is not of importance. And nor is my purpose. I will not trouble you with stories of the past, nor predictions of the future. I will simply tell you that I am weary from the road and while I rest here, your kindness is much comfort to me.’

He closed his eyes, and drank again.

‘There is no one I can trust anymore. I cannot tell you anymore, although I don’t want you to feel cheated of your story. Tell me, what are you now thinking?’

[ December 23, 2002: Message edited by: Dark Shadow ]

[ December 23, 2002: Message edited by: Dark Shadow ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami Goodchild was doling out pints of ale and carrying platters of food to the folk sitting and talking at the tables. It was good to see so many visitors at the Inn. Some were known to her by name and face, while others seemed to be newcomers, enjoying the light and the warmth of the hearth after long journies on the road.

Just as she was turning back to the bar to grab another handful of drinks, Cami felt an insistent tug on her sleeve. She looked over to see Rose Goodchild, a good friend and kinswoman, carrying the official mailbags of the Hobbit Postal District that served the Shire and the outlying areas of Buckland, Westmarch, and Bree. Rose sported an official proclamation in her hand, and brandished it above her head to get everyone's attention.

With a nod of agreement from Cami, Rose lept gracefully onto the table and announced, "I"ve an official message from Halbereth Diagona. He and and VanimaEdhel and a few others you may know have been engaged for some time in an RPG adventure called "Many Questions, No Answers". They now find themselves in need of a few more adventurers to join in the fun. They are specifically looking for male characters, both Elves and Men."

Rose glanced quickly about the Inn. There did indeed seem to be a number of persons fitting this description hunched over the bar and the tables, some looking like dark and mysterious figures, while others had a more open expression on their face.

Rose nodded politely in the direction of these visitors and continued with her news, "Should any of you gentlemen care to consider this challenge and join up with these folk, please take a serious look at the game thread "Many Questions, No Answers", and send a private message to Halbereth Diagona to discuss the characters needed and the terms of this engagement.

Rose bowed with a flourish to her audience, and pushed out the door of the Inn to continue with her other delveries to every corner of the Shire. A few of the Men and Elves at the tables began discussing the proposal. One or two stood up abruptly and hastily left to get a better look at Habereth's company and his needs.

[ December 23, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[arelendil]

Elwen had grabbed her cloak before exiting the now crowded pub. Swinging it around herself she fastened the star brooch, her fingers nimble and quick. The night outside was cool, a gentle breeze played through Elwen's hair setting the waves and white gems flashing with Elwen's brilliant white light.

Elwen caught hold of Soronûmë's wrist as he stood on the door step of the Green Dragon. She pulled him around to face her, but his hood was up, hiding his face from her. Elwen sighed.

"What do you run from?" She questioned him gentle, her breath coming fast and shallow. Through the snatches of cloud Elwen caught sight of the moon, it always calmed her to the spirit. The wind tossed Elwen's dark hair about her face. "Do you run from me?"

Elwen tried to see his eyes but they were hidden in the shadows. Slowly Elwen released her grip on Soronûmë's wrist and began to twisted pieces of her hair around her slender fingers, dreading the answers that would come.

Elwen bowed her head her hood now covering her face and began to sing gentle to herself. "What on earth am I meant to do? In this crowded place there is only you . Was gonna leave, now I have to stay. You have taken my breath away." The wind caught Elwen's words sending them spinning around and around. "Is the world still spinin' round. I don't feel like comin' down. It's in your eyes..." Elwen's voice trailed off to nothing more than a soft rustle of the trees.

"I finally found someone who understood!" Whispered Elwen, the tears trickling down her soft cheeks, flashing silver in the light of the moon. Elwen raised her hands to cover her eyes and wipe away the tears that were now coming fast. "What have I done to upset you so? Why won't you let me help you?"

[ December 23, 2002: Message edited by: arelendil ]

[piosenniel]

Her brow furrowed at his words, and she sat back from him. 'What I am thinking is that I will leave you to your solitude. Well do I know the safety of one's own company. Signal to me or to one of the servers should you need your drink refilled, good Sir.'

Pio picked up her apron, and standing, wrapped it once again around her. A small smile played about her lips as she bid the fair-haired stranger fare well. In a wink, she had vanished into the crowd of the common room, hurrying back toward the bar to see to the other guests.

[ December 24, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Gorothlammothiel]

Soronûmë turned as Elwen caught his wrist, she was questionning him. She asked what he could not answer, "You have not upset me star maiden" he replied, brushing the tears from her cheeks, "no one so fair could ever do such a thing."

The wind caught Elwen's hair taking it from her fingers, high up into the air. She pulled it down and raised her hood over her head, she was still weeping. "You ask me questions I cannot answer Elwen. I would tell you the answers if I knew how. I run from the same thing that I have run from the past months, and that is all I can say." Soronûmë tried to keep Elwen's gaze but both were distracted by a disturbance in the nearby woods. "I would have stayed Elwen so that you were not alone. I must leave, but you are strong. You have yet to find the master you hold so dear and cannot stay in the inn much longer yourself."

Soronûmë called for his horse and Salixrana came, mounting the steed Soronûmë whispered "Farewell star maiden, we will meet again and on that day, your light will shine with all the stars of the sky." He smiled, "Namarie Elwen" and rode off at speed.

[ December 23, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[arelendil]

He was gone! The tears flowed free as the distance shape of Soronûmë vanished into the dark. How could he leave? Elwen had thought that finally she had found someone to help her in her quest but now he was gone, like everyone she had ever held dear.

Elwen stood on the path which ran away from the Green Dragon. The wind tugged violently at her hood but she didn't move. A deep longing welled up inside her to call her horse and ride after him. He had said she was strong but her heart had been broken too many times the strength that had returned while talking to Soronûmë had ebbed away leaving nothing, only emptiness and despair.

The wind blew through the trees. The birch beside the path rustled softly, telling of things forgotten, whispering dreams of things long past. The clouds drifted part, leaving the moon stareing down with silver light that illuminated everything. the stars, her people gave her great comfort as they burned in the heavens with white and blue light.

In her heart Elwen knew why he had left, for the time was coming when she too must continue the quest for the one that had given her the flute. Soronûmë was right there was strength in her.

Elwen's voice lifted up above the trees, soft as a running brook. She called to him a final farewell. "Nai Vardo eleni ilyë lumenn' enomentielvo siluvar Soronûmë, until we meet again." Elwen, with her sharp elven eyes caught sight of Soronûmë far off in the distance. He raised his hand in a gesture of farewell.

Elwen wiped the tears from her eyes and walked away from the pub. She knew her time had come, with the departure of her friend she too must continue on her quest for her hearts desire.

[Dark Shadow]

The Elf sat still for a second, furious with himself. Someone he could have shared his past with, and he'd pushed her away. Well he thought, some things never change. I'll never be able to speak freely. Sighing, he drank more of the ale and sank deeper into his thoughts, becoming increasingly troubled. He mused over the idea of calling Pio back, but soon dismissed it. His eyes wandered over the plate, but his appetite was even smaller than usual.

He finished the ale, but didn’t call for more. Instead he replaced his hood so it covered his face and wondered if he was strong enough to leave now. No. He needed rest. He would have to ignore that unwelcome feeling that had come over him since Pio’s departure and stay until, until he was ready to leave. So as to bring less attention to himself, he slunk further into the darkness of the corner, hoping to soon be forgotten by those who had seen him enter.

[piosenniel]

Her eyes sparkled as much as did the glasses she polished and lined up carefully beneath the bar. Pio watched the fair-haired stranger sink back into the shadows of the Inn. 'It will be easier for him to leave those shadows than for him to step from the shadows which hold his spirit.'

She sighed, watching him as he toyed with his empty tankard, trying once again to conceal himself beneath the shadows of his hood. Well she knew the canker of secrets that ate at him, the loneliness that starved the spirit and could not be denied.

On a sudden impulse, she thought to return to where he sat. The remembrance of her own long loneliness, how she had held off those who would draw near, her held her back.

'No.' she said softly to herself. 'I will allow him the grace of his own time. When he is ready, he will speak.'

She polished the last glass and set it on the bar, thinking to pour herself a small glass of Dorwinion wine. The light from a nearby lantern caught the clear plane of the faceted side, and blazed out into the room for one small moment - a steady, blazing star, a beacon . . .

[ December 24, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Susan Delgado]

Susan, as she called herself, had kept quiet all evening, drawing so little attention to herself that she doubted anyone had even noticed her in hours. But she had noticed some of them, and the exchange between Pio and the fair-haired stranger had been particularly interesting with the way he was hiding. If he'd really wanted to avoid people, he'd have rented a room and gone there, but he hadn't. He must want to talk to someone. Someone who had enough problems so as to make his look trifling. Noting that his tankard was empty, she stopped by the bar and got a another full for him. Pio gave her a knowing smile as she handed it over and softly said, "Good luck,"

Susan just shrugged and said, "Luck is what we make of it, my dear, nothing more or less." Taking the ale and her own tankard of mead, she made her way toward the table. He looked up warily as she approached but after deposting his ale and sitting at the bench, she asked nothing more pressing than what he should be called.

[Namarie]

Namarië please check your PM's (Private Messages)

*** Saved for re-worked post **

[ December 26, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Orual]

The door creaked open, letting in a breeze as well as a newcomer. She stepped in, tapping the toes of her heavy boots to knock off some of the larger chunks of dirt that clung to them. After closing the door, she threw back the hood of her green cloak and gazed around the room with her sharp green eyes. Suddenly she smiled, with a warmth and humour emenating from that expression belied by the long sword that hung at her side.

"An ale, if you'd be so kind, mistress!" she called to Cami in a cheerful voice. "For a weary traveller."

The innkeeper looked at her, a little amused. "Have you come of age to have one yet, young miss?" she asked.

The newcomer laughed. Indeed, her short, dark red hair framed a round face suggesting an age of no more than twenty and in all probability less. "Yes, mistress, I have," she said, and took a seat. "Talmérië is my name, but it is long, so most call me Rie. I am a daughter of the Rangers--perhaps some of you know my father, Almarien?" She looked around the room, and saw a few heads nod. "I've travelled here to come into my own, seeking adventure and good people. I've found the latter, to be certain: may these fair lands last forever!" she cried, and took a deep drink. "But as for now, now that I've quenched my thirst--and a finer ale I've never tasted, master!--I'd not deny a good tale and good friends, for I've travelled many a mile." With that, Talmérië raised her mug again and took a seat further back, closer to the fire, and looked around for a willing victim to listen to her own tales.

[ December 28, 2002: Message edited by: Orual ]

[piosenniel]

Balancing the tray on her left hand, held high above her head, Pio made her way carefully round the room. At each table she stopped, filling the empty tankards from the pitcher of ale or the empty cups with strong red wine from the bottle perched on the tray. A platter of warm herb and mushroom pasties, fresh from the Dragon’s oven sent its savory scents to hungry drinkers, and with a wink and a nod she left one at each patron’s place.

Her last stop was at the table of the flame-haired newcomer. ‘Talmérië, is it not?’ she asked, setting the tray down on the table. ‘Mind if I join you for a moment?’ Not waiting for an answer to either question, the Elf slid into the chair opposite Rie, and pulling a chair from another table close to her, propped her feet on it. She topped the woman’s tankard and poured herself a half glass of wine, cutting it with a little water.

‘Been a very long day, today.’ she remarked, her words somewhat muffled by a mouthful of half-chewed mushrooms and flaky pastry. She eyed the woman from under the cover of her long dark lashes, and washed down the last of the pastie with a drink of wine. ‘So,’ she said casually, relaxing back against her chair, ‘I overheard you say something about not denying us a good tale’. Pio motioned with a tilt of her chin to the patrons in the Inn. ‘Now all are settled with food and drink, will you not tell us something of your travels.’

It was less a question than a simple statement of expectation. She leaned forward, raising her glass to the newcomer. Bringing it to her lips, she sipped at it, and waited . . .

[Airerûthiel]

Laitalathion listened at hearing news of Gondor, the land his heart sighed for. With every day that the dark armies of Mordor crept closer to that place, his desire to return grew stronger, threatening to choke his other thoughts while they slept in his mind until all he could think of was restoring his family's honour.

'If Minas Tirith falls, the line of Kings will truly fail,' he thought, 'and my father's memory would die both true and false. He was a traitor to the Stewards, true enough - Maikadurion inherited his outspokenness and quick temper, but I received my mother's temperament - but he never compromised his belief that one day, Isildur's true heir would return to his throne in the white city. And to that I hold, until the day I die.'

The half-Elf turned to Derakis. "Forgive my directness in this matter, but you are a Man of Rohan. Do you know of a half-Elf who looks not unlike me, who walks that land dressed in the simple garments of a Ranger?"

"Why do you wish to know this, Laitalathion?" asked Derakis, not trusting the Gondorian entirely. "I can give you precious little information about the land of the horse-lords, as it has been long since I walked in that country."

"The half-Elf of which I speak is my elder twin brother and the heir of the house of Théomer of Gondor," replied Laitalathion. "My homeland is in great danger, as will be your own if the white tower should fall, and whilst my father was a traitor to the Stewards of that land, he was nonetheless faithful until the end that one day the true King would reclaim his throne.

"I last saw Maikadurion when I rode back west to the Shire five years ago, and he and Airerûthiel are the only family I have left. The three of us could save our families' legacies and aid in the cause in the south, but unless I know where I might find my brother the chance of the two greatest Gondorian houses being able to aid in the defeat of the Dark Lord will be gone."

[Dark Shadow]

He sighed gently, looking away, before returning his attention to the second to approach him that evening. A small smile played upon his lips, but did not spread.

"It seems I have been careless,” he said quietly, his gaze shifting to where Piosenniel sat with the newest arrival to the inn.

“I have drawn far too much attention to myself, despite my best efforts to remain unseen. Well,” he said, as if reading her mind with his sharp blue eyes, “I could have rented a room, but it is so long since I have been in the company of others and I wished to remain here to enjoy the pleasure and conversation which is certainly not lacking.”

At this, he looked straight at her and said, “I see that whilst my name remains unknown, people will continue to be curious. Very well.” He rested a hand on the table, as if to reach for the ale she had brought him, but did not, leaving his hand where it was.

“I am Erdaminéon. And now would you care to tell me who you are and what your business is disturbing my peace?” He said this in calm way, and his speech showed that he was not really bothered by the disturbance of his peace. With this last sentence, he fixed her with a piercing stare and sat back to wait for her reply.

[Orual]

Talmérië sat back in her chair and looked around the room, shedding her heavy cloak as the fire warmed her. Once again she gazed around the room, and was deep in her own thoughts when a voice interrupted her reverie.

"Talmérië, is it not?" Rie startled, whipping her head around. She smiled, half in surprise and half in delight at a companion, when she saw a lovely Elf, who Rie thought had been called Piosenniel, next to her. She opened her mouth to reply, but was not allowed the time. "Mind if I join you for a moment?" Rie shook her head and again opened her mouth, but Pio was too much like Rie herself, and began speaking cheerfully. Finally, she invited Rie to speak of her travels, an invitation which Rie was in no mind to deny. A willing victim!

"Gladly, my lady," Rie answered, raising her mug in reply. "Though I fear that my stories may not be as interesting as those of other patrons, for I have come here seeking my first true adventure. But I shall do my best.

"As I have said, my father is Almarien of the Rangers, and my older brothers, as well as my twin brother, are Rangers as well. My two younger brothers will be, when they come of age. Alas for a lady among so many lords!" Rie laughed, but her eyes suggested that the laughter wasn't entirely sincere. "My mother is a metalworker, and she provides my father and brothers with their armor. I am expected by my family to follow in her tradition, for the women of my family--and there have been few enough, for my father's line has been blessed with sons--have near always found their places in the forge. There's been the occasional healer, but for the greater part they have been metalworkers. So I spent the greater part of my teen-age years in the forge with my mother, but my heart was never there." She laughed again, this time a little bitterly. "Instead of dreaming that some day I'd make a fine mail-shirt, I dreamt that some day I'd wear one, like my father and brothers. I practice with my twin, because we are of much the same skill, but I grew up knowing that I would never be able to follow him into battle."

Rie broke off, taking a sip of her ale and staring sullenly into the fire for a moment. She then looked up, and smiled apologetically. "My apologies, lady, I am drifting off again. It is a habit.

"Finally, earlier this year, I decided that all the great heroes didn't become heroes by sitting around waiting for their father's permission. They did something about it. So I did: I left. Yes, I ran away, is it not sad? Among a warrior's family I had to run away to be a warrior. I don't doubt that once I accomplish some great deed my father will be proud of me, but I expect that if I return without accomplishing anything he'll be terribly disappointed. That's my fix, lady...I have to find some deed to do before I return home, but who will take on a runaway girl on any quest of importance? But I will stop worrying you with my own problems. That, though, is the story of my own life. My trip here from my home was not overlong, nor was it particularly dangerous, though I did spot some Wargs leaving as I neared this place. My closest brush with danger, was that. I do not believe that my father would count that among the great deeds of my fore-fathers!"

Once more Rie laughed, this time sincerely. Her eyes looked like a weight had been taken off her shoulders, and she was even sitting straighter. "Many thanks for listening to me, lady, though my tale wasn't as epic as some. Hopefully that will change. Now, what news of the Shire? For I love this land and would dearly love to hear more of it."

[Deorlin]

Deorlin pushed his empty bowl aside with a determined grunt.

"I had thought to pass a quiet night here at this comfortable inn. But these rumors of Gondor have unsettled me mightily. I must forego the pleasure of a warm bed and take the road south at once." He sighed, imagining the hard, cold ground he would catch a few hours of exhausted sleep on in the small hours of the night.

"Well, Sadbh, I wish I could stay and tend to your horse. But I've done the best I can for now. Another dose of the same mix in the morning will probably set him right. Achae, I hope your journeys lead you to exciting adventures - but my experience lately has been long journeys usually mean many boring hours in the saddle and having to put up with quiet a bit of discomfort. Not that I'm complaining!" He grinned at the young woman.

"Ladies, I'll take my leave of your pleasant company, most unwillingly. Perhaps your travels will bring you south to Rohan, and I can offer you the hospitality of my family home in the Westfold. Just ask for me or my father, Deorwine. Or, if you'd like to start your adventure right now, Achae, or if you, Sadbh, wish to search for the prince in the southern realms, just saddle up and we'll ride together!" He laughed, a loud hearty sound that caused a few heads in the tavern to turn.

Deorlin then rose from the table and nodded his head in a parting salute.

[Nurumaiel]

Robin looked around, trying to find someone she recognized, but there were so many in the room it was quite impossible. Sighing, she looked over at Dinodas, who was looking at all the elves.

"Elves don't come often to the Shire," he said quietly to Robin. "Not that I don't mind them. Indeed, I enjoy elves sometimes more than hobbits, but it is strange to see so many of them in the Green Dragon."

"What about dwarves?" asked Robin. "And men? The only that would ever come to the Green Dragon in older times were hobbits. I don't mind any of them, but..."

She glanced quickly around to make sure no one was listening, then whispered, "They make me uneasy. They can't be hear just for a pint. There are other inns closer to their homes for that. They must be here for a purpose, and I wonder what it could be."

"You didn't seem too worried when Nurumaiel and Firramer arrived," remarked Dinodas.

"We know them. We don't know these other men and elves and dwarves."

Dinodas smiled at her. "You must have been having nightmares, Robin," he said. "Any other time you would have been overjoyed to see so many other races here. Ah well."

"I'm going to catch a breath of fresh air," said Robin, abruptly changing the subject. How did Dinodas know she had been having nightmares? "There are so many people in here it's getting rather stuffy. Do you want to come?"

"Sorry, but I haven't finished my ale yet," replied Dinodas. Truth to tell, he had finished his ale, but, always being a teaser, wanted Robin to go out in the dark alone. "Don't get lost!" he said cheerfully as she made her way towards the door.

Robin stepped outside and took a few deep breaths. She did not move for awhile, half dreading going back into the inn. If Dinodas had not been inside waiting for her, she would have gone right home. After all, it was late and she was tired. She almost decided to go home in spite of Dinodas, but at that moment she heard the sound of hooves.

In the dim light Robin could make out a slender rider on a grey horse approaching the inn. "An elf," the hobbit lass whispered, feeling once again uneasy. "But what's wrong with me? I'm usually not afraid of elves... it must have been that nightmare."

The elf, for indeed it was an elf, slowed his or her horse gradually until he stood still, and then dismounted.

The elf was tall, with long dark hair that fell to her waist, and dark eyes full of wisdom. She was clad in a simple brown riding dress, but she walked proudly and gracefully. A young hobbit lad came out of the stable and took her horse, and she smiled gently at him. Looking around her as she moved towards the door of the inn, she saw Robin, half hiding in the shadows.

"Come out, little hobbit," the elf said kindly, and Robin stepped out. "Tell me, what is your name?"

"Robin Brandybuck," replied Robin. "If you don't mind me asking, what's yours?"

"Lindelot, you may call me," the elf replied. "This is the Green Dragon inn, is it not?"

"Yes," said Robin, and suddenly found herself smiling, once again at ease. "Won't you come in?"

She led Lindelot into the inn and asked what she would have to drink.

"I need nothing, hobbit maid," Lindelot answered, smiling softly, "but a chair to rest my weary limbs, and perhaps another elf to speak with."

"You'll find many an elf here tonight," said Robin. "But I thought elves couldn't be weary?"

"They may be weary, maid," Lindelot said, her face gentle and sad. "Be it weary of heart or weary of the land in which they live."

And is that why you're passing through the Shire? thought Robin, but did not dare to say it aloud. Smiling farewell to the elf, she went back to Dinodas.

[Schmendrick]

Right behind her had followed another figure, so quietly that she hadn't heard a thing.

The dark figure slipped in and hoped that his presence could go as unnoticed as possible. Some, however, turned to look at him, as he passed. They saw a noble man, dressed like a ranger, making his way to the counter. He had black hair and calm, grey eyes and his skin was so white that it looked like he had never seen the sun.
There was something mysterious about him, something intimidating, but it wasn't easy to tell, what it was.

He ordered an ale and the strange accent in his speech could be clearly heard. He looked around at the Inn and could not see any familiar faces. He sat in a dark corner and didn't touch his beer.

"Well, what did you expect, you fool?" he said angrily to himself. "You knew you couldn't find him here. You can never find him." With his right hand he touched the silvery necklace that glimmered on his chest and sank deep in his thoughts.

OOC: Please see my private message.

Child

[ December 27, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Carlas]

The young elf walked silently into The Green Dragon, wanting to find shelter from the pouring rain. She looked around at all the faces in the crowd. Some seemed very cheerful, drinking and laughing with one another, others watched silently in the shadows.

The elf sat down at one of the tables though it was quite small for her.She had not gotten used to the size of everything in the Shire, having just arrived the night before.

She had left Rivendell weeks ago, for she had been banished. Her heart ached as she thought back to that day, if only she could take back what she had done.

She sat back in her chair. No she thought, he deserved to die.

[Merri]

She had fallen asleep, her cheek resting on the table.

Elanor sat up with a start, sore all over from the uncomfortable position she'd been in, and so the hobbit girl made her way over to the inn keeper. "Please, Miss Pio," She said, in that halting way she had. She recalled the name from a conversation she'd overheard earlier in the night. She wasn't sure if that was actually the inn keeper's name or not, or if she was the inn keeper, but as long as Elanor got a nice bed to sleep on for the night, nothing else really mattered. "Could I have a room for the night?"

[piosenniel]

'Elanor, is it not?' said Pio, looking down at the sleep rumpled Hobbit. 'Rooms we have - very nice ones.' She looked the lass over. 'And how will you be paying for this needed room, Miss?'

Elanor turned her sleep dusted eyes up to the Elf. 'I see.' remarked Pio, a half smile on her face. 'Lucky for you my dearest friend is a Hobbit. And I know they make good on promises.' She handed Elanor the key to #4 saying, 'We shall settle the bill in the morning. I shall need some help clearing up the place for the morning crowd, and one of my serving-maids has been called home to care for her ailing Da.' She held up a Hobbit-sized apron, measuring it against Elanor's petite frame.

'This should fit you, if we roll it a bit at the waist.' She folded the apron and placed it in the hands of the drowsy Hobbit. 'Now off to bed with you! The day starts bright and quite early in the Dragon!'

[Dark Shadow]

From where he sat, Erdaminéon looked up at the young Elf in interest. He had seen her enter out of the corner of his eyes, and now he turned his sight to study her properly. From the way she had entered, he could tell that like himself she wished her presence to go un noticed. A good attempt he though, but he was simply not quiet enough to escape his attention. She was hiding something. He searched her carefully, knowing that she felt his stare, but would not let on that she was aware of him. A sense of dislike stirred somewhere inside him and he looked away.

“What she is hiding is maybe not as innocent as one might think of an Elf of her years.” He murmured to himself, forgetting his company for a second.

“She runs from something.” He added, before looking apologetically at the woman across the table.

“Please continue,” he said casting another glance in the newcomer’s direction. Again he was sure she had felt it, but he was not going to press the issue any further. He was sure that one of those who had questioned him would discover her soon enough, it was not his business to ask questions.

[ December 28, 2002: Message edited by: Dark Shadow ]

[Schmendrick]

The pale-faced stranger had also noticed the newcomer. She looked somehow familiar to him, but he couldn't place her in his memory.

He leaned forward, careful not to arouse any unwanted attention (It seemed to him that those avoiding that were many indeed that night!), and overheard the discussion on the table next to him.

"She's running from something", a husky voice said.

"Aren't we all?" he wanted to ask, but saw it better to keep quiet. He turned back to observe the young Elf and met her eyes staring right back at him.

Quickly he turned his eyes away, embarrased. He sipped his beer, trying to stay calm.

Where had he seen that look before? Did he really know her or did she only remind him of somebody else?

[Carlas]

The young elf noticed the pale man lookin at her.She new him but it seemed he did not remember her.She looked away quickly glad he did not.

The room seemed quieter, and she new she had been noticed by some. She reached down into her cloak, touching the hilt of her knife. Lets hope they stay quiet she thought silently to herself.

[Schmendrick]

The pale man had noticed the look of relief on the Elf's face. He was now sure he had seen her before, but didn't risk looking at her anymore. He tried searching in his memory instead.

He didn't like doing that, though. His past was dark, there was no denying that. Solitude and misery had filled his days from the beginning. And the secret he couldn't share with anyone.

He felt the room getting dizzier in his eyes. What was he doing here anyway? The only place where he felt at home, was the forest. The darker the better.

It all seemed injust to him. After all, he had not done anything. Why was he to blame for the mistakes of his father?

[ December 28, 2002: Message edited by: Schmendrick ]

[Merri]

"Thank you very much- I'll do the best I can to help you, though I must say I'm not one for domestic chores." Or, at least, she started to say that, for she yawned about half-way through her sentence.

Elanor wondered how it was that the inn keeper could tell about her state of finances so quickly. After all, she wasn't dressed so poorly. Perhaps her reputation had spread, though. One day, as she was sitting a bookstore, she had overheard a woman talking to her friend about that 'queer Elanor Greenthumb'. She had said exactly this:

"This is what I've heard about that Elanor Greenthumb- ever since the girl's father disappeared, her family has been pretty short on money," The woman had whispered. "While her mother was alive, Elanor was pretty good about saving it- but now she spends most of it on books, and whatever else she has left is spent on clothing and food."

Strange how fast reputations spread, Elanor mused as she climbed up the stairs sleepily. They seem to spread faster than people, nowadays.

[ December 27, 2002: Message edited by: Merri ]

[Orual]

Talmérië smiled as Piosenniel left, hearing her name. "I shall get news of the Shire elsewhere, and later," Rie assured herself, then chuckled, adding: "If there is any to be heard!"

Still laughing, she went back to gazing around the room. Such an assortment of people! Elves, Men, Hobbits...even the occasional Dwarf. What a strange place--and in the Shire, who would have thought? She was running her fingers through her short hair, when she caught sight of a newcomer. She sat up straight. Like a Ranger he looked, deathly pale with dark hair. She leaned forward, trying to catch a look at his face. When she saw it, she did not recognize it. To be sure, she did not know every Ranger who walked Middle-earth, but she knew a good number of her father's kin. Yet she felt hesitant to approach him, as he seemed pre-occupied and troubled. Is everyone running from something, or to something, like I? she thought, fingering a bracelet of fine links that her mother had forged for her. Finally she gathered her courage and went up to him.

"My lord, what business has a Ranger in the Shire?"

The young woman quietly walks in. She came from Gondor, where her father, a silversmith, had been accused of trason and banished. She set out on her own to find a new life elsewhere.

She is slim, but her eyes glow with a curious bronze-gold color, and close-cropped hair, a copper.

She looks human, but her aura alludes to her Elfin heritage, for she is a human-Elf hybrid. She carries a sword, and sits at a dark corner table. Her mere presence is enough to send the party there scattering for another location. The young woman sits down and takes a notebook out of her pack, and hastily pens a song. She asks for nothing.

Her name is Jatyn Coolheart.

~*The winds of evil flag against me, yet I am immovable."*~

[ December 28, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[My Cat Sasha]

A girl around the age of 14 enters and sits alone at a table. Her long brown hair is pulled back in two braids. She is Aria of Rohan. She is a very good rider. Not one of the best, but she's good for her age. Her horse is called Polaris.

As far as anyone has been able to tell, she isn't anything out of the ordinary. She seems to like it that way.

OOC: Please see my private message--Cami Goodchild, Assistant Innkeeper

[ December 27, 2002: Message edited by: My Cat Sasha ]

[ December 28, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Eruantalon]

Along the lonely road a weary travler sees the lights of the inn.He is a tall man and has dark hair that comes down to his shoulder.His eyes are also dark and piercing a light shines in his pale face.

He is clad in a long gray coat with a bow Two thirds of his hight, a sword just as long, and an ax just of equal length but almost as broad as his shoulders.These he wears with a large pack across his back.

He enters the inn some notice his arrival and some pay no mind.He asks for some ale fresh bread and there best cheese.He then walks over to the tabel in the corner of the room between the fire and the window.

All the while he eats and drinks with a broad smile on his face but after he is done his face slowly grows dim and worriesome.

He draws a fine long pipe and takes out a large satchel of pipe weed and lights it.In the light of the ambers of his pipe the deep red stripes in his beard are visabel.Two red and blone mingled stripes on his chin with a brown stripe down the center and wheat golden edges on the corners of his mouth.

The smell of the pipe weed is fragrent and soft a smile enters his face as he enjoys it.he sets his feet on the chair besides him and begins to relax from his weary and long journy. [img]smilies/redface.gif[/img]

[doug*platypus]

It was shortly after sundown, when a youngish hobbit stepped in off the road. Hanging his hat up, he stopped to take in a view of the inn and its patrons. Smiling politely here and there where the good folk acknowledged him, he spotted the bar and headed over. Although the lone hobbit had a certain air of confidence about him, it was plain that he was new to this particular inn.

"Hello, there, Master Dwarf!" he said to the barkeeper, "I guess you must be Mr. Dwarin Thunderhammer! Pleased to meet you! Biffo, I am. Or Mr. Proudfoot, if ya like. I'll have a pint of your best ale!"

The stocky innkeeper named his price. "Ooh, ah... better make that the second best then!" Biffo replied with a wink and a laugh. Thanking Dwarin for the ale, the hobbit looked around for somewhere to sit down.

[ December 28, 2002: Message edited by: doug*platypus ]