The Hills of Evendim RPG

[piosenniel]

Elora's post

In the 12th year of the Fouth Age Bree was a busy place, blossoming in prosperity now that order had been restored with the return of a King to the throne of the Reunited Kingdom. On the edge of the now protected Shire, Bree was a meeting place of many. Hobbits came and went with increasing regularity, realising the profit to be made in trade with the Big Folk. The commerce of Middle-earth brought many varied people to see it done. Elves were rare, many bypassing the streets and inns of the mannish town for the quieter woods. Dwarves occasionally stumped through. Bree was a town built of stone largely, and it had need of masons after the War of the Ring and Sharkey’s malicious damage had been and gone.

Mostly, it was Men and Hobbits that filled the streets, shops, forges and guesting houses that made up Bree. Barliman Butterbur’s excellent inn, The Prancing Pony was perhaps the most renowned meeting place in the lands for a good 50 miles. The Master of Buckland had chosen it well, for precisely this reason. Where else would you find such folk willing as to brave the Wilds in search of a missing messenger from Rohan? Rangers came and went as ever. So too did many sturdy folk of good hearts and endurance willing, it was hoped, to lend their aid.

Eodwine of Rohan, if he lived, would be in sore need of such stout people. The Master of Buckland's appointed representative, Doderic Brandybuck, made his way to the Prancing Pony even now. With him were two already. Another four also travelled for the Prancing Pony with the intent to find and retrieve the man that brigands had snatched in the north. Falowik the Wanderer had been clear and concise in his report. He had seen the messenger viciously attacked and then taken. With no way of knowing whether Eodwine lived and only his pleading gaze as he was first set upon sent to where Falowik sheltered wisely in the undergrowth, the wanderer had reluctantly shed his hiding to retrieve the satchel, stained with Eodwine’s blood, from where it lay discarded on the ground.

Reluctantly, he’d found Shiriff Falco Boffin at the Merry Archer Inn of Stonebow and told of what he had seen. Met with suspicion, for Falowik was no stranger to Bree, word had been sent to the Master of Buckland and the call for a search party to set out had been made. Much had passed at the Merry Archer Inn. Falowik was not the only wanderer who found himself there at Stonebow. Events moved swiftly once the Master of Buckland learnt of Eodwine’s attack. Falowik had been summonsed and set to the task of finding the messenger. It was not the first attack in the northern wilds of Eriador. Lawless men roamed there, preying on any and all that crossed their paths. Rumour spread beyond Bree and the Master of Buckland that perhaps it was more than ruffian outlaws that hunted the desolate expanse of the North Downs.

Nothing could be sure. No one ever returned to speak of what they saw after they set out northwards from Bree. That would change if the Master of Buckland had his way and he was a Hobbit accustomed to having his way. There was more at stake, perhaps, than the life of a messenger from Rohan. Those that went to find him would be charged with the duty to discover all that they could. Perhaps, it was hoped, they would find nothing but a bedraggled and gaunt band of criminals ranging like starving wolves. Perhaps…

That would be grim enough a peril. The Master of Buckland had made it clear that those that set out to face whatever waited for them in the Wilds, would have all they needed to meet such a danger. Horses, provisions, weapons and maps, all were to be provided as per the Master’s written ordinance sent with Doderic to the Prancing Pony. There he would wait for the others to arrive and gather yet more to their cause. Any price, but not their lives hopefully, to save Eodwine and gather the much needed information concerning the troubling events of northern Eriador. The Prancing Pony would be the starting place of another Fellowship of sorts.

[piosenniel]

littlemanpoet's post - Falowik

Falowik had spent the day at Brandy Hall. Falowik had been brought straight to the Master of Buckland in Brandy Hall by Doderic Brandybuck. Master Meriadoc's mien had been simple, straightforward, and serious. Doderic took after his cousin in all but experience, for he had never left the lands of Hobbits. Master Meriadoc had thanked Falowik for his message, and wished him well on his mission. Doderic had accompanied him to Bree, along with Gorbilac Brandybuck, age 40 and youngest son of Merimac; first cousin of Meriadoc, second cousin of Doderic. Gorbilac, known as Gorby, was to represent the Master of Buckland as a member of the rescue party.

They passed through Stonebows, on the eastern bank of the Brandywine River. Stonebows had turned into a small village since the King's Edict, where hobbits from the Shire and other races might meet and trade. Stonebows Inn, a new building, had been planned and built under the direction of the Master of Buckland. It was styled after The Prancing Pony in Bree, for both Men and Hobbits, but was much smaller, having no need for the capacity of the inn at Bree; at least, not yet. Master Brandybuck had plans for the Stonebow, but they would be years away. Falowik had met the Elven lady, Uien at the Stonebow, for Falowik had avoided Bree, the place of his childhood, where bad memories lurked. Falowik had had time to speak with Uien at the Stonebow, and was heartened to learn that she had done well, finding as many as three willing souls to join their rescue party. He had had to rush on, and would wait for Uien to come later, for her recruits needed time to end their business in Stonebow and make their way to Bree.

Falowik was almost in Bree. On three points he was ill at ease. First, he had no desire to go back to the place of his birth and childhood. Second, he had not recruited anyone, save Gorby, who hardly counted as a recruit, sent along by the Master of Buckland. Uien had had more success. Which brought him to the third point: Uien. At Brandy Hall and on the road to Bree, he had had time to reflect on the heady events of his first night and the following day with Uien. Her healing touch was undeniable. The need in her for someone to love and be loved by, was just as real. His place in her heart was the crux of the matter. He was a Man. She was an Elf. A high Elf, as far as he could tell. He had no business meddling in the affairs of Elves. The saying had often been bandied about, and the more so the less merit it seemed to carry, but there was truth in it nonetheless. I may adore her, but I'm a fool to take her love and claim to be able to give it. He made an agreement with himself as he entered Bree, that he would give her all his courtesy, all his honor, all that she merited; but he would not demean her by courting her for himself. And no persuasions, no enchantments - if he coud help it- would dissuade him.

The three travelers arrived at The Prancing Pony. The Inn had a pleasant front, and two wings running back into the hill behind; the second floor windows were level with the ground toward the back. They came to the arch, framing a large doorway that was open. Above the arch, beneath a lamp that was not yet lit, for it was day, was a sign of a fat white pony reared up on its hind legs. Over the door was painted in white letters: THE PRANCING PONY by BARLIMAN BUTTERBUR. Falowik felt a strange sense of anticipation, and anxiety, for Barliman had been kind to him, and had given him work and shelter as he had become a man; and had warned him when gossipers had chosen him as their target to explain inexplicable thefts. He had made nothing of himself in the twelve years since, and was ashamed.

They led their ponies and horse under the arch, and leaving them standing in the yard, they climbed the steps. A Man in the company of two hobbits was not unusual, nor was it common. As they went inside and found a table, many faces turned their way; none recognized them as native of Breeland, for which Falowik was grateful. They might be left to themselves as they waited for Uien and the others to arrive. Falowik wondered if Falco Boffin might make himself a burden upon the company of rescuers. He hoped not. He would most likey be a burden only to Falowik.

There was Barliman Butterbur. Falowik kept his head down. Though the bitterness of his past had been eased by Uien, he still lived its shame. He hoped that Barliman would not recognize him.

[ October 23, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Imladris' post - Gorby

Doderic was looking at me pointedly: I knew that glance full well, and I quailed and trembled beneath it. I had been summoned from my afternoon smoke and that boded ill in my opinion. I cleared my throat and said, “Yes, Doderic?”

“I was wondering if you would do something for me,” he said smoothly, looking at me kindly but that only made me more uncomfortable. I stood uneasily on one leg and scratched at a poison ivy rash with a toe: a managed to nod. “I was wondering if you would like to go on a search party?”

“I’d much rather not,” I said hastily.

“And why not?”

“Because,” I said, beginning to list reasons on my fingers, “I am no good with any type of weapons, you know that I can’t even find my vest when it’s right under my very nose, I can’t hide very well, I ---” and I was rudely interrupted by Doderic.

“Which is the very reason why you should come,” he said. “Think of this as a learning experience where you can fix your faults.”

“Is this a ploy to get rid of me so that I don’t bother anyone with my ‘laziness’?” I asked suspiciously. It drove Lily mad that I stood out there to have my smoke, rain or shine. She was always complaining of cleaning the house and sweeping up after my lingering ashes that always somehow fell from my pipe.

“Good heavens, no!” Doderic cried. “That’s just your sister and she doesn’t mean half of what she says anyway. You’ll be meeting a man named Falowik in the Prancing Pony,” his eyes sparkled here -- he knew how much I enjoyed visiting Bree. “And there’ll also be an elf there as well -- Uien I believe. Falowik is a man, some don‘t trust him and he has a lousy reputation around in Bree, but…well, an elf trusts him so I suppose he is not too bad. A man of Rohan, Eodwine, disappeared in the Hills of Evendim and they are gathering a search party to see if they can either find his remains or himself alive.”

“Oh,” I said absently, playing with my leather belt. So it was a rescue mission for a man that wasn’t even around in these parts (which I honestly didn’t mind in the least). But then we’d have to go travel up North, where the cold perpetually lingered, and I honestly didn’t look forward to the nasty trudging over rocks and hills. I would miss the Shire -- it was my home after all. I sighed: But on the other hand, I would have a chance to see Bree, a most tantalizing place, a place where there was much to learn. I especially liked to visit the Blacksmith, and watch him hammer the metal into various shapes. It was a wonder how fire could melt it, enable it to bend to the smithy’s will. Fire in and of itself was pretty fascinating anyway: so lurid, so bright, so intoxicatingly exotic, yet it could be harmful and deadly, too. “Why don’t you come?”

“I have business here, Orb. You know that.”

I sighed and left and went to pack my few belongings. I brought an ample supply of weed, a few pipes in case some would like to join me for a bit of smoke, a pen and some parchments as well also found their way secretly into my bag, for I knew Doderic would have a fit if he knew I would bring something so superfluous as they.

Some time later the next day, Doderic and I reached Bree and meandered my way to the Prancing Pony. I enjoyed watching the lasses work and on this particularly fine day, they were doing the washing. The scrub of the clothes upon the washboard, the frothy soap, and the sight of the lines of vests, bodices, blouses, skirts, and breeches was a pleasant sight to behold.

Doderic told me to keep dawdling and all too soon I found myself at the Prancing Pony and there I saw Falowik. He was a rough man with fair hair, but it looked as if he had seen much hardship and sorrow. I, particularly, didn’t see what was so wrong with him: a bit rough ‘round the edges maybe, but certainly alright.

And then the elf came, a fair maid, but not quite how I pictured them, from Master Merry’s description, least ways. We sat and I ordered ale for them all and watered wine for Uien for that was what she told she would rather have. Then we waited.

[piosenniel]

Elora’s post - Uien

Uien checked the gait of her horse in the early dawn light with a pleased smile. She had ridden through the night and Bree waited before her, it's Western Gate awaiting her. She leant to whisper to her roan gelding in soft elvish words that elicited a whicker of pleasure from Thalion. He flicked his ears and shivered beneath her and she smoothed a hand over his shoulder.

Thalion was a fine gift and she would see him returned to the Stablemaster in as fine a condition as he left it. With slight pressure to his flanks, Thalion moved on once more, arriving at the gate of Bree proper.

"Who goes there?" The man's voice sounded through the wood of the gate before the small window shutter was opened. Uien remained as she was, smiling through the window when the young man's face appeared. His brows shot up. An Elf, at the Western Gate!

"Pardon, Miss," he stammered. Uien was keen to be through, to find Falowik and Doderic and Gorby. "We don't expect to find your folk knocking at our gates." Uien waved aside his explanation.

"No matter, Gatekeeper. I seek the Prancing Pony. I have business there." He examined her, still surprised. A lone Elf woman... unarmed with only a pack... not even tack or saddle and only a single blanket. Odd, to be sure, but then it was hard to explain the comings and goings of the fair folk.

He nodded, closed the window and pulled the wooden gate back. Uien was soon moving through. She shot a fleeting glance of appreciation at the bewildered man and gazed up the street that led into Bree. Falowik's home, she thought.

"Will there be others, Miss...." Uien blinked, realising that the man had asked a question. She shook her thoughts and paid renewed attention to him.

"Yes, three others... no four actually," she amended as she recalled how Falco Boffin had caught them up on the road to Bree some days ago. She'd left her companions with him, seeking the Old Forest to complete her preparations for the journey.

"They will arrive soon, I hope. Should any ask after Uien or mention the matter of a search party that the Master of Buckland has called together, please direct them to the Prancing Pony." The man nodded, understanding coming into his face as Uien spoke.

"The search party," he said. Obviously he knew something of it already. "Yes, Miss Uien." He tugged at his hair and nodded confidently. Uien shot him another smile and moved off then. Perhaps they'd arrived before her. She'd not seen trace of them upon the road when she had re-joined it.

As Uien sought the Prancing Pony her debate within herself continued. She could have risked setting out without the herbs she had found in the Old Forest. They may have left her behind already. But her mother's training was too strong in her. Too many passed into death on account of a healer not having the necessary resources to see to them. Uien had deferred in favour of that, fretting at the possible delay in finding Eodwine and moreso, dare she admit it, to see Falowik once more.

She pulled up in front of the Prancing Pony and slid from Thalion's back. A few whispered words and he snorted at her in slight reproach. He did not have to be told to remain at a hitching post, having done so countless times before. Uien glanced at the distinctly mannish stone buildings on the street.

A few had already started on the day's business and walked by, glancing curiously at her as they passed. They wore the same expressions as the man at the gate. Laurëatan she murmured to herself and in that took heart. Uien gathered herself and her now full pack and entered the inn.

The light was dimmer within, the commonroom close as was the manner of inns she had come to learn. Uien pushed back her travel stained cloak and scanned the commonroom for Falowik, his companions or hers. Conversation faltered as she passed tables by, those occupying them peering curiously at the Elf who had entered. With Falowik's name on her lips, Uien paid them no heed and pushed on.

"May I help you, m'lady?" The voice of Barliman Butterbur was kindly and curious. Uien blinked in surprise at the title. The innkeeper smiled at her as she took him in. She moved closer to the bar, conscious of those listening.

"I am come to meet someone," she replied, scanning the room and tables.

"You've just arrived then. Is your horse out the front?" Uien nodded her confirmation as her gaze settled on Falowik. Her carefully guarded expression softened then and her smile light her features.

"Hi HOB! There's horses needing stabling quickly," Barliman bellowed. He paused, looking sideways at Uien and resumed his dull roar. "An elvish mount, so mind you bring a bridle and don't set it skittering on the streets!" Barliman lowered his voice to a more reassuring tone. "He's quite good with horses, but handling one without a bridle is a challenge for most."

Uien nodded absently and then shot her attention back to the innkeeper who was smiling at her. "I take it you've found the people you are to meet then." Uien nodded once more, somewhat apologetically.

"I have, good sir," she said as graciously as she could.

"Then I'll leave you in their care for the time being." Barliman slung his dish cloth over his shoulder and turned, bellowing for Hob to move his wooly pated belly. Distantly , the sound of bare feet slapping on the floor in a run could be heard, a bridle jingling as Hob ran to see to the horse and ponies without.

Uien crossed to where Doderic, Gorbilac and Falowik sat at a table. Doderic and Gorbalic were in conversation that stilled as she neared, but her attention was elsewhere. Uien let her pack rest on the floor as she smiled down at Falowik's face. It was a joy to see him once more and it shone in her eyes.

"I see you've arrived then Mizz... Mizz," Doderic said, reaching for her name.

"Uien," she replied softly, bestirring herself.

"That's right... the healer. What of the others?" Doderic and Gorbilac peered around her. "Your companions?"

"I left them not long after you departed from Stonebows, Master Doderic. Shiriff Falco Boffin caught us up and I had need to fetch some things from the Old Forest. I left them in his care and expect them to arrive shortly." Try as she might, Uien could not keep her voice neutral as she mentioned Falco.

The hobbit had trotted up, puffing, on a pony midafternoon after Falowik had departed. He had insisted on accompanying them and of his expertise. "Good sensible hobbits," were what they needed apparently. This was all well and good. Uien did her best to hold her tongue as Falco clucked and tutted over Elvish merry riding parties. Yet, that night as Uien had announced her desire to arrive at Bree via the Old Forest, Falco and her had come to yet another disagreement.

"The Old Forest," he had spluttered. "What business has anyone with some sense with that place? I would have thought Elves knew better." Her companions had thought Falco amusing, his concern at the prospect of venturing into the infamous Old Forest clear in his flushed cheeks and wide eyes.

The result of that argument was that Uien had gone alone, and happily so truth be told, and left Falco with her companions to meet up at Bree. Gorbalic stared up at Uien with a queer expression once she mentioned the Old Forest. It was as though she had sprouted wings and proceeded to float about the common room, dodging rafters and singing a jolly ditty.

"I had need of herbs from that place for this business," Uien explained. It made little dint on Gorby. Like Falco, Gorby knew only those somewhat mad voluntarily entered the Old Forest. Doderic himself seemed somewhat at a loss as to what to make of her.

"No matter," he said, deciding to drop the issue of the Old Forest for now. "What's important is that they arrive soon. Every hour lost is begrudged." He glanced to the door and then at Uien's pack, filled with mysterious plants of the Old Forest as well as those she had already harvested with Falowik. Cautiously, he pushed that away with his toes.

"We have not yet had the chance to discuss your companions, Uien," he said as he motioned for her to sit. Uien did so gratefully, taking a chair next to Falowik and again smiling into his face. What she read by way of return sent questions spinning into her. Mayhap he is tired, she allowed. What she wanted to do was take his hand and hold it to her lips once more. She would have to wait.

For now, she soaked in his nearness and turned to the matter of those that had set out with her. Doderic and Gorbilac followed her closely as she ran through what she knew of them.

"They just volunteered," Gorbilac asked somewhat incredulously.

"Yes. Once they heard the matter, they may their offers in true heart," Uien replied. It had been the best she could have done. No doubt Falowik would have acquired a legion of those willing to aid him. She swallowed her disappointment in her own efforts, so few, and fell silent. Doderic and Gorbilac reviewed the state of affairs.

"We need more, going by Falowik's support,' Doderic assessed.

"We shall get them," Uien replied softly.

[piosenniel]

Alatariel Telemnar's post

Finëwen rode up to the gates of Bree. The morning sun shone bright in the sky, which had a faint orange glow. ‘Who goes there?’ she heard a raspy voice behind the gate say.

‘It is I, Finëwen. I am heading for The Prancing Pony to meet a few other people,’ she said, taking the hood that had towered over her face, and placing it on her back. She dismounted her horse, who’s white coat was covered with mud from a long journey, and the day before’s rain. She carried only a bag around her shoulder and a sword partially hidden behind her cloak. The gates opened, and Finëwen lead him inside. There were several Bree people about, going about the early morning chores.

She took the white stallion into the stables and placed him in a stall to rest. She whispered something in his ear, and he whinnied in reply.

Then she continued into the Prancing Pony to rest from her journey. She hesitated in front of the inn, the inn that she had once visited when she was just but a wee child. Barliman Butter greeted her, ‘Will you need a room?’ he asked a smile came upon his face. He didn’t recognize her, and that seemed to please Finëwen. She smiled back.

‘Yes, I have traveled alone, and left my horse in the stables. He has gone through a long journey, and so have I. I shall be wanting a room for the night, possibly longer,’ Finëwen replied. She let her cloak back, revealing a dress of dark green, long sleeves draped from her arms. She stood straight and tall.

‘Yes, right away.’

Finëwen scanned the room for a familiar face. She spotted Falowik and Uien, along with two others sitting together. She walked up to the table; remaining calm, she took a breath and began to speak.

‘My name is Finëwen. I have come to join you on your journey,’ she said sitting down among them. Everyone paused for a moment. Looking at the new-comer, the table was silent for a moment. Then Uien broke the silence and introduced the four other people sitting around her.

[piosenniel]

Lumiel's post

Lumiel hummed softly to herself in the pale yellow dawn of the morning as she rode on to Bree. The dew shone bright as jewels among the trees and on the grass on the road and her eyes seemed to twinkle in their light beneath her dark grey cowl. Not far ahead she saw the gate to Bree and quickened her horse's pace slightly.

She had ridden ahead of the company of Falco and the others the night before, a bit weary of the people and the crowded feeling she got from them. It was nothing personal, just how she was.

By now she was at the gate and a man peered out at her, seemingly confused. "Another lady traveling alone? Such strange things abroad nowadays.." he muttered to himself. Lumiel wasn't sure what he meant, then it fell into place as she realized that he must be talking about Uien.

"There be nothing in this world of anything, but thinking makes it so." said Lumiel to the man, smiling faintly. He quirked an eyebrow at her, still trying to make out exactly what it was that she had said. Not waiting for him, she spoke again. "I'm on business here for a search party. Perhaps you could direct me to where an elvish woman went?"

"Of course Lady. On yonder, at the Prancing Pony is where you'll want to go." answered the man politely. Lumiel nodded her thanks and went in and then dismounted, preferring to walk. She didn't have to go far before she came before the sign of the Prancing Pony, unmistakable even to a stranger. She hitched her horse to the post and soothed him with a word before heading inside.

Even though it was morning, it seemed fairly busy. She looked around searching for Uien, but before she could find her, a somewhat heavy man caught her attention. "Why good morning miss! I'm Barliman Butterbur, owner of this here establishment. And how can I help you?"

"Yes sir, I'm her to meet some people -" before Lumiel could finish, Butterbur pointed to a table where Uien and three men sat. She nodded her thanks and began to walk over before she was stopped by Butterbur. "Excuse me miss, but do you have a horse out front?" Lumiel nodded yes and he spoke again quickly. "Expected as much. I'll have my Hob put him with the Lady elf's horse." He smiled and went off shouting for Hob as Lumiel went to the table.

She smiled at Uien, happy to see her again as she took off her hood. "It's good to see you, Uien. I hope your journey went well?"

"Yes, all went well. Where are the others?" asked Uien, expecting them at any moment behind Lumiel.

"I rode ahead last night, they'll be here shortly." she explained, wondering who the men were that sat at the table with them.

[piosenniel]

Imladris' post - Lira

Corn was bobbing rhythmically on Merkaliel’s head, who whickered pleasantly as Lira trotted down the dirt path that led to Bree. That morning she had come across an abandoned trail some hours ago and had left the rest of the search party to go and explore it, as it led roughly towards Bree. But after an hour or so it had switched direction and so she traveled cross country until she had hit the main path again. She had searched in the dust for the tracks of the others, but did not find them. It was near dawn now, but early morning mists enshrouded the two in a wispy mantle and seeping fog entwined itself around the mare’s hooves; the horizon was stained with crimson, while orange tendrils curled greedily clutching at distant mountain peaks.

A soft singing arose eerily from the dusky meadow that stretched to her left: the singing of passing elves as they wended their way as a silver river through the hills of the Shire. Lira reigned Merkaliel, and waited for the ethereal line to pass: Corn for once was silent and stood with unaccustomed stillness as he waited with her. She could see them now, their faint light thrusting the pressing darkness of early morning away. The first elf, strong and beautiful, stepped into the path and Lira said, her musical voice soft and low, “Mae govannen.”

The elf bowed low and returned the greeting. They spoke in the Sindarin tongue and another elf, a lady named Merenwen, asked, “Lira Nen, what are you doing here? I thought that long before you would have taken ship to the blessed land of the Valinor.”

Lira smiled sadly and said, “The fair lands of Middle-earth call to me still, Merenwen, she whispers continually in my ears of the hills, the dimpled vales, and little river of this land, of the mighty forests which have withstood the darkness, and of the victory over the Shadow. It brings me joy to see the meadows of Ithilien plush with green grass and to see the white wildflowers sway in the passing breeze.”

The elves were silent and Merenwen asked, “Where is your bow? You are an elf of Eryn Lasgalen and yet you carry a dagger?” Corn snickered derisively and glanced insolently with a beady eye at Lira.

“The dagger was a gift of a friend…I forgot to bring my bow with me when I departed from Ithilien. I was worried about my parents and…” Lira‘s voice trailed off. Corn croaked sympathetically, flapped to her shoulder, and ran his beak through the various strands of hair that had come unbound from the braids that encircled Lira’s head.

Merenwen sighed softly and, as the line of elves continued their journey, she called, “Namarie Mellon Lira. We will eagerly await you on the shores of the Valinor,” she said, as they continued their own journey.

Lira watched them slowly disappear into the night, their silvery glimmer lingering long after their forms had disappeared. She shook herself and prodded Merkaliel forward as she thought of the parting words of Merenwen; Corn squawked with indignation as he lurched forward at the sudden movement of the horse. Eight years ago her parents had left Ithilien and told her that they would journey over the land of Middle-earth and, after about seven years, they would arrive at the Grey Havens and take a ship to the Valinor. They had promised to send a message, a dove, telling her when they reached the Grey Havens. Eight years had passed, and no messenger had come. Stifled fear and worry rustled in her heart, for the paths had yet been dark when they had departed. They had not gone in a group as Merenwen had wisely done, but had set off by themselves, alone, with but bows and arrows for protection from the wilds and the lurking orcs and spawn of evil that remained.

Leaving the thoughts of her parents behind, she mused of her mission to Evendim. She would be accompanied by others in the search for the missing Eodwine of Rohan. Stiffening, Lira wondered who would slay the rangers and messengers of Gondor and now Rohan. Or maybe they were not slain, Lira mused as a new angle of the tangle of unanswered questions entered her mind. But surely some would escape? Or maybe they had met with a fate worse than death…or maybe they really were a pile of bleached bones, if their flesh had already decomposed, otherwise they would be mere carcasses with...Lira shuddered and saw that she had reached Bree.

The wooden gate was partially hidden in friendly shadows, and rapping her knuckles upon the rough wood, Lira patiently waited for the watchman to let her pass.

“Who goes there?” a man barked, opening the portal as he peered intently through the gloom.

“An elf maid,” Lira answered back. “I am looking for Uien.” Corn nodded his head vigorously and hopped again to the Merkaliel’s head and ran his beak through her silky mane.

The man nodded briskly at the name and said, “She’s staying at the Prancing Pony, Miss,” he said, gesturing in the general direction.

“Thank you,” Lira replied. She slowly made her way towards the Prancing Pony, handed her horse over to the stable master, and looked about her. Corn grinned mischievously at Lira and disappeared into a pile of straw.

Hobbits and men were laughing loudly as they conversed of the doings and happenings of life in the Common Room; a hobbit danced gaily upon a wooden table, encouraged by the cheers and toasts of his companions. Others sat quietly in the corners, just out of reach of the fire’s lurid light. Lira’s eyes roved the tables and finally saw Uien, Falowik and two other hobbits. Making her way towards them, she said, “Mae govannen, Uien.”

[piosenniel]

Esgallhugwen's post

Esgallhugwen wandered through The Old Forest, crushing herbs with her mortar and pestle, while atop the strong sleek back of Morsereg. The herbs turned into a pink paste, giving off a strong aroma that tingled the senses.

She ducked her hand into the small satchel tied to her waist procuring a crystal jar; Esgallhugwen smoothed the paste to form a cream as she poured it into the jar. Tightening the lid carefully she popped it back in the pouch and set to work cleaning out the bowl and beginning another concoction.

Esgallhugwen sang softly in praise and respect for The Old Forest allowing her safe passage and the taking of precious herbs. She hoped that if others chose this path to Bree the forest would be as lenient and kind. She knew not whether others followed behind her, the path turned and twisted, there was no companion with her except for the powerful black stallion Morsereg, barely making a sound on the path.

Once out, onto clear land, Morsereg broke out into a gallop. the thick sappy green balm had been safely stored away. though displeasing to look upon being it an Elvish creation; the balm had a pungent odor that soothed the victim while it set to work on very deep or poisoned wounds, and it would last longer than dried herbs unused.

The sun sank behind them, but Morsereg raced on knowing his need of haste. He neighed triumphantly approaching the gate of Bree; Esgallhugwen called out to the gatekeeper, no reply, she called again, wishing she had a horn to make the gates tremble. The gatekeeper peeped his squinting eyes in the slot on the door. "What business brings ye to Bree...?" he paused not knowing if the cloaked figure was a man or a woman in the dimming light. Esgallhugwen threw back her hood riding up closer "I am to make my way to The Prancing Pony; for business I guess you have already been informed of. that is what you need to know and no more is of concern to you, sir" her Elvish voice sang. He quickly drew back the heavy wooden beam and pulled back the gate.

"Yes m' lady, some have already arrived, I'm sure they'll welcome thee gladly" he swung the gate shut with a clang, after she walked up to him. "I hope they shall too" she said riding up the road. She only caught a brief glimpse of Falowik days before racing off out of the stable at The Green Dragon on an errand. If Uien had arrived she would be the only one she knew of fairly well and would recognise due in part to meeting and promising Uien she would give her services helping to find the missing messenger of Rohan and to see what became of the other missing men.

Esgallhugwen drove up to the Inn, the familiar lights just beginning to flicker within. She stepped up to the threshold pushing back the door, her eyes beheld the distinct figure and face of Barliman Butterbur. He drew back remembering her as the dripping phantom that appeared days before, his face grew pale.

Esgallhugwen let out a laugh, regretfully drawing attention to herself, drawing back her hood; she was revealed to be an Elf, to Butterbur's relief and joy. He nearly toppled over trying to make his way to the counter. He tried to apologize but was silenced by Esgallhugwen's raised hand "no need to apologize, I should say that I am sorry for startling you when you first saw me weeks before as a wet phantom or wraith to your eyes no doubt" he smiled in thanks "your mount Lady...?" he stuttered embarrassed at his foolish reaction when she entered; "My name is Esgallhugwen, my horse has already been seen to by Hob I believe it was. May I inquire as to where Lady Uien or people who are waiting for her are seated? I have come to join them".

Butterbur guided her over to the table where Uien sat with two others, one presumably Falowik. Barliman introduced their new guest with surprising eloquence "Lady Esgallhugwen comes to join your table", Esgallhugwen thanked him and he went on his way.

"Greetings Uien".

[ October 23, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Meneltarmacil's post

At a not very respectable establishment on the outskirts of Bree, Thoronmir sat over in a corner sipping on a mug of ale. He had just won some money in a card game earlier. Suddenly a man stormed over to where he was sitting. Thoronmir recognized him as one of the other card players.
"Hey you!" the man shouted angrliy. "You'd better pay up!"
"Pay up?" asked Thoronmir. "But I won fairly."
"No you didn't!" said the man. "You cheated! I saw you!"
Thoronmir had not cheated, and the other man probably knew this and was just lying. "Listen," Thoronmir said. "I don't know why you think I cheated, but if you'd just explain-"
"Aaargh!" The man grabbed him and pinned him against the wall. "I'm through talking! You cheated me, and now you're going to pay me back or else!"
Thoronmir didn't want to have to fight, but now he had no choice. He threw the man off him and drew his sword. "I've been more than reasonable already, but you wouldn't listen to me. Now OUT." He gestured toward the door with his sword, and the man obeyed.

Thinking it was time to leave, Thoronmir decided to spend the night at a more respectable place-- The Prancing Pony. After getting himself a room, he went over to the bar in the common room and ordered some ale. He listened to the various conversations taking place, and when he heard the name of Evendim come up, he immediately began to take an interest in the business of a man and two hobbits sitting at one of the tables nearby...

[ October 23, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Nurumaiel's post

Anson Brandybuck stood outside the door to his father's room, fiddling with one of the buttons on his coat. He didn't want to talk to his father. Every time they discussed something, whether it was important or not, they got into a fight. But this was so important... he had to have his father's permission. Otherwise he would be running away, and he didn't want it to come to that. As a matter of fact, he didn?t even want to go on this adventure. But Gorby asked him, and he couldn't refuse Gorby. Gorby was, after all, a bit nervous about this whole search party himself, and he might need someone he knew to come with him, and since they had grown up together...

"I can't let Gorby down," Anson murmured, and knocked on the door, making up his mind he wouldn't say something clever like the last time that would make his father angry. It made his father angry because his father couldn't say something equally as clever. Anson was known as very clumsy, but nobody knew how really intelligent he was.

"Come in!" his father cried, sounding annoyed. Anson took a deep, shuddering breath. That wasn't good. If his father was annoyed, then his father wouldn't be willing to listen. Sure, he and his father might not get along very well, but the latter was just as protective and he wouldn't like the idea of his son joining and going off with a search party. Not at all.

Anson pushed open the door and put a forced smile on his face, preparing himself to sound pleasant. Not that Anson ever sounded unpleasant, but sometimes he sounded intelligent and that annoyed his father.

The room was very spacious though rather bare of furniture. Posco preferred it that way. One side of the room had a large bed, while the other had a desk. Posco's job, a postman, didn't require a desk, but he wanted one. It made his job seem more professional. Anson could not say, however, that the desk did not come in handy. Posco was in charge of sorting out letters and delivering them, and the desk gave him all the room he needed to sort them out. At the moment letters were scattered all over the desks, and Anson felt deeply annoyed. He himself was very neat and tidy, and he felt a strong urge to clean them up.

When his father, whose name was Posco, saw who it was, he ducked his head and grumbled, "Oh, it?s you." The memory suddenly came to Anson that only that morning that had gotten into another fight. That decreased his chances of getting his father's willing approval. But he most likely wouldn?t have had it anyway.

"Well, Dad, I have something to tell you," Anson said. "I was talking to Orb today, and he wants me to go somewhere with him."

"Oh yes?" Posco said, acting as though he hadn't really heard. His hands were moving quickly, sorting through the letters, but Anson could see that his father had heard and was listening eagerly. "Where does he want you to go?"

Anson put his hands behind his back and took a deep breath, feeling rather like a rabbit being guarded closely like a hawk. The hawk wouldn't kill until the rabbit gave it the signal to in this case. Oh no, if Anson remained silent the hawk wouldn't kill. But he had no choice. After all, Gorby was depending on him. So Anson told his father all that Doderic had told Gorby (which Gorby had then passed on to Anson).

There was no hesitation from his father. "No." That was all that was said.

Relief was Anson's first feeling, but then as he thought of Gorby he stiffened. "Yes," he replied.

Posco's face twitched, but he controlled his anger and, leaning back in his chair, looked his son right in the eye. "You can't say that until you've come of age, son, and you still have nine good years. Since I'm your father I have the authority to say no, and I do say no."

"But Gorby-"

"I don't care what Gorby says or doesn't say. You're not going. Why, you ask? It might be dangerous, and you'd be safer at home."

"And what happens when I do come of age and go out travelling and I don't know anything about the Shire beyond the front steps of my own home?" Anson asked. He didn't care that he wasn't going to go travelling when he was older. He said that to make a point, regardless of whether it was true or not.

"No, and that's all. You can go now."

Anson did go. He left the room, he went into the kitchen and grabbed a few things to eat, put on a coat in case it grew chilly, and left the hole. Unsure of where he was going or how long it would take, he turned east and began to walk. Whether his father liked it or not, he was going to Bree to attend the meeting.

And now, two days later, he had entered Bree. He shivered a little as he thought of what had happened back at his home. It brought a cold feeling upon him. He had run away. He had told himself he didn't want to run away, and that he wouldn't leave without his father's permission. And he here was, in Bree. He hadn't even said goodbye to his mother. That was the worst of all. What would she think?

"I hope you're grateful after what I've done for your sake, Gorby," Anson muttered. He wanted to ask someone for directions to the Prancing Pony, where Gorby had told him everyone was, but he was too afraid. After all, it couldn't be that difficult to find it, could it? Well, he had already been wandering around for an hour. What was another two or three.

But there it was! And Gorby was probably there. Anson, forgetting all his troubles back at his home, rushed forward with delight. Grasping the handle of the door, he pushed it open. His journey was over... for now. There was always, of course, the search party. But in that journey he'd have Gorby.

[ October 23, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Elora's post - Falco

Falco slid off his pony with a sigh of relief that he barely remembered to repress lest anyone hear him. He stretched his aching legs and hitched his mount next to a row of other horses. He saw that Uien's was tied up along with Lumiel's and he huffed his way into the Prancing Pony as quickly as he could.

Falco spotted the table easily. He puffed his way past the bar and the barkeep directly towards where Doderic and Gorby sat. Falowik was there also, as was Uien and the other Elf, Lumiel. He noticed that there were others, some he knew and others he did not.

Well, at least one is a sensible hobbit, he rumbled to himself as he neared. There were two more Elves that he recognised from Uien's recruitment. He nodded stiffly at both. Also there were two more Big Folk that Falco studied unabashed, one a burly looking man and the other a woman.

"A fine mess, no mistake.... but maybe these won't wander off every time the sun sets and the stars peek out." Falco was not happy at being one of the last to arrive at all. He was a Shiriff! His comment was a mutter but it drew the attention of Uien. He saw her gaze shift, but she said nothing for at that moment the two new Big Folk, which Falco had renamed as Big Trouble already upon first sight, were volunteering. If he'd had gotten here sooner, perhaps he'd have been able to send them off. As it was Doderic was busy accepting their offers to help. Falco sighed heavily, turned and lifted a hand for a pint of ale.

He'd need it, he reckoned, with this search party.

"Shiriff Boffin," Doderic said, "Pleased to see you could join us." Falco turned back to the Master of Buckland's second, cast a long look around the table of predominantly Big Trouble and nodded stiffly as he took a seat.

"Well, you will be needing folk with common sense if young Eodwine is to be gotten out in one piece." Falco privately wondered why anyone would want to retrieve a messenger so lax as to allow himself to be taken. Like as not, the lad had been daydreaming at the time. Still, it lay not to him to gainsay the Master of Buckland and Falowik had first brought the dubious news to him. So if the Master said they were to fetch this Eodwine, he'd be at the forefront doing exactly that.

Assuming this Eodwine really existed. Falco wouldn't put it past Big Folk to make up tales for the sake of mischief. His scepticsm was shielded by the delivered half-pint of ale that arrived on the table. He took a long grateful draught and set himself to listening to the talk at the table. They'd have need of his expertise and opinion, him being the Shiriff and all.

[littlemanpoet]

Doderic spoke up. "I'd say that we have the makings of a good search party here. There's one thing missing: a leader. Master Meriadoc wants me to have you pick your own leader from amongst yourselves. Who does not want to be the leader of this search party?"

Two of the hobbits couldn't set down their beer mugs fast enough to raise their hands.

"Fear not Masters Gorby and Anson," Doderic grinned, "I would have shouted you down if you said otherwise. Anybody else?"

Falowik cleared this throat. "Though it was my news that brought this search party together, I am just an eye witness. I pledge to do all I can to help our leader." Uien frowned briefly at Falowik's words; he caught her expression out of the corner of his eye. Falowik knew that he would make a horrible leader. He had never had dealings with more than one person at a time, and was sure that he could not garner others' loyalty; he had no skill for it.

"Fair enough," Doderic said. "Is there anybody else who does not want to lead the search party? And while we're at it, let's hear from each of you who you are and what you're good at. Not to mention, why you're in on this. See, I don't know some of you at all, and I need to report back to Master Brandybuck what I find out so he can do whatever he has in mind to do. I've said enough. It's someone else's turn now." With that, Doderic grabbed his beer mug and drank a good pull.

[ October 24, 2003: Message edited by: littlemanpoet ]

[ October 24, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Elora]

Uien

"Perhaps there are some here with experience in such ventures," Uien said as her gaze circled those who had gathered. Her gaze rested on Falowik the longest.

"I know that there are those amongst us with skill in following a trail in the trackless wilderness. By that, they could pick the way we seek from countless empty chases. The lands are vast once we move beyond the comfort of Bree." Uien had chosen her words to establish her opinion on the worth of skills. Falowik had such abilities, and well she knew it. So too may others here.

"As for myself, my skill is that of healing. I learnt such things from my mother, when Lothlórien yet stood against the tides of time and war. We had much need of such skills then and it was found that I had a strong measure of them." Uien paused as her brow furrowed in the memory of those last days of her home. Her voice lowered as she continued on.

"I have had reason to test my skills well, though I would wish myself untried. I also have the unwelcome knowledge of yrch and evil men. I know of their ways, in a fashion." Uien's gaze dropped to the tabletop and her eyes darkened. In her lap, her hands clenched as if they would stem the threatening flood of memories.

"If such terrible knowledge can be used to save another, then I would see it done. I am here to prove that word and heart given fully in faith can overcome anything. I would see Eodwine saved, for noone should be left to linger in such darkness, noone..."

Uien spoke gravely and there was a solemn weight behind her words. Her gaze, when it rose to Doderic again, was still and fierce with her resolution. The flash of spirit strong enough to heal others was evident. Doderic nodded at her, and her eyes slid to two more faces. Falco held his tongue, she saw, and seemed to be considering something. Falowik, beside her, she hoped understood what she spoke of in the unbreakable faith of word and heart given. It cannot be taken back, not by any power that walked the lands now or in the Elder days.

"I too would hear of what our companions bring." Uien looked around the table, from face to face, inviting the other's to step forward and speak.

[Alatariel Telemnar]

'Aye, I will go next,' Finëwen said, standing up a little straighter. She looked at all the different faces and races of people, 'Even in my short twenty-one years of life, I have learned things some may not ever learn. In my young years of age, I was taken as a child to Rivendell, and spent many long years of my life there, raised by elven parents. I know some basic herbs that will heal specific wounds and have learned some techniques from the elven people, but I am not as much of a healer as Uien, I would assume.

'I have lived in the wild for the later years of my short life, and I can survive. I have skill with a blade and a bow, though I do not carry both. I can also fight. Although I am less experienced then some others here, I still have as great of skills.

'I have come on this journey for the adventure of it. I find life too short to stay caged up being a housewife doing housework or living a boring life. I also come to help find Eodwine, as I believe most of you have.

'That is all,' she concluded and sunk slightly down in her seat, watching as everyone’s last glances of her turned and watched the rest of the group. There was a pause, waiting for someone else to go. A few people sipped at there drink, and looked at everyone else.

[Meneltarmacil]

"Excuse me," came a voice from over in the corner. "But did you say you were going to Evendim?"

"Yes, that's right," said one of the Hobbits. "Why do you ask?"

"Well," replied the man, coming over to sit at their table, "Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Thoronmir, and I used to be a Ranger. I once lived in those hills. I really don't think you should be going that way. It's too dangerous. Only a fool would go there. If you value your lives, take my advice and stay away from those hills."

"But we have to rescue Eodwine!" one of the elves spoke up. "He is in danger."

"We're not turning back, no matter what you Big Folk say. What gives your kind the right to dictate what we do?" said a rather fat hobbit.

"Very well," Thoronmir said. "If you must go there, then you'll have to take me with you. I don't want to see any of you get killed. I am quite skilled with the sword and the knife, and I have had some experience with the bow as well. I once went into battle against a great many Orcs during the War twelve years ago."
After seeing how determined the group was to succeed, he turned to them and said, "You look brave enough. And you may survive this quest yet."

[ October 24, 2003: Message edited by: Meneltarmacil ]

[Imladris]

Lira Nen

Lira turned her sapphire eyes towards the man who strode boldly to their table, telling them that it was too dangerous in the hills. “We must rescue Eodwine,” she said softly. “He is in danger and we cannot leave him to his fate,” she added quietly. She listened with some pleasure as the man offered his services and then there was an awkward pause. “I am Lira Nen of Ithilien,” she said softly, rising to her feet. “Uien, I regret that I left the Inn before you, and I fear I gave you the impression that I had decided not to come. I had some…other things to attend to,” she added, her face sad as her thoughts drifted towards her lost parents. “I am not especially skilled in anything,” she continued with her musical voice, “but am competent with the bow and dagger, and knowledgeable in the art of healing. As most of the fair folk, I can read the tracks of creatures.”

Her voice trailed off, and she shrank into her seat, gripping the wood tightly with her fingers. She had traveled swiftly to the Grey Havens and had spoken with some elves, inquiring of her parents, to see if they had reached the Havens safely. Their answer had not been comforting, for they had assured that they had not seen Liralwen, her mother, nor Nenwir, her father. Her nails dug violently in the woods and her breathing came in short gasps: they could be dead. Flashes of the rangers and the messengers of Gondor that had disappeared in the north rushed to her mind, and she wondered where in the north they were. Corn had not proved to be very informative and she could not speak his language.

Do not let your grief impede your search. The words fluttered weakly on the hazy edges of the memories that blurred together. Shame flooded her soul as she realized that she had been close to succumbing to grief. Rousing her spirits, she pulled a long swig from her wine. The warm liquor flooded her spirits; it was as a river coursing through her veins bring new life and reviving her mind. It was a dangerous thing to do…yet she must do something to help keep her thoughts the doings at hand.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gorby Brandy buck

I groaned inwardly as I laid eyes on Falco Boffin: irritating fellow. He was as full himself as rising yeast, and had a sharp tongue that could rattle off insults faster than anybody I ever knew. I wondered if Anson would show -- I hope he did because Doderic wouldn’t be coming and then Falco would be the only hobbit on the trip. I grimaced. Unpleasant thought. Then I saw him. Springing to my feet, I pushed my way through the mire of bodies and met Anson by the door. “Anson Brandybuck!” I cried, squeezing his hand jovially. “I am so glad you came!”

He smiled somewhat wanly and said, “Me too.”

“We’re over here,” I said eagerly, leading him towards the table which was now filled by all manners of elves and men. I must say I was disappointed by the elves: they looked almost human, yet their eyes and voices betrayed them -- especially the one who was ugly -- and they had a sort of ageless quality about them. They were somehow like us, and somehow not. Resolutely, I made room for Anson and myself. Of course he got the seat next to Doderic. I got next to Falco.

One by one they introduced themselves: a young woman named Finewen and then a ranger whose name I missed. Falco had shot a sort of sullen scowl at Finewen, and I had kicked him under the table with my foot, after which he tried to kick me back, but he missed and stubbed his toe upon the wooden leg. I must admit, unashamededly I might add, that I thought it served him right and so, hiding my face behind my hand, I stuck my tongue out at him. Anson had seen the whole thing and was trying to stifle a smirk. I grinned at him and he erupted into a flow of snickers which he tried to drown by pulling a swift swig from his pint.

The ugly one, Lira, had just finished her little speech. There was a short pause so I stood, bowed, and said, “The name’s Gorby Brandybuck. And I’m here because Doderic” -- a flourish to that admirable hobbit -- “asked me to come along.” I sat down with a thump, glanced at Falco who threw me a malignant glare, and grinned triumphantly at Anson.

[ October 25, 2003: Message edited by: Imladris ]

[Esgallhugwen]

Esgallhugwen glanced at all who came, her cold crystal grey eyes flickering from the lamplight. She did not wish to be leader, even with her exprience in battle, unable to stop death and sorrow.

"I too do not wish to be leader of this party or Fellowship of sorts" her haunting deep voice sang. It was not a deep voice of a man, but rather a voice deep with age and sorrow, resonating ages gone. "But I will take it upon myself, if no one else not even these brave Hobbits does so; I am skilled with bow and sword and some healing, very much like all the Fair folk here, my name is Esgallhugwen Elenglin and I will do what is in my power to aid you in saving Eodwine"

She stopped needing to say no more; not knowing what else to say she smiled at Lira who seemed as depressed as Esgallhugwen herself, but this was a grave matter, not to be taken lightly. Falco eyed Esgallhugwen with uncertainty.

[Elora]

Falco Boffin

Falco sized up the Man who strode over to their table openly. More trouble.... though he has some sense, he grudgingly allowed. Still, like as not, he'll go tramping about loudly, sword waving and trumpeting his presence all the way to the White Towers. When Falco noticed the tall Ranger, the Man, return his frank stare, he was immediately gripped by a worrying notion that perhaps he had spoken his thoughts aloud.

So concerning was that, Falco missed most of what was said by the two other Elvish Troubles. His worry was soon replaced by the gripping need for someone of leadership worth to step forward. No sooner had Esgallhugwen concluded, Falco burst forth.

He stood, thumbs planted behind his striking red braces, and adopted his most official looking stance, softened by a magnaminous smile that he bestowed on all and sundry.

"Shirrif Falco Boffin at your service. Some here I know," and he nodded with largesse at Doderic, Anson and Gorby, "and some here I have yet to know.

"Seems to me that the sensible thing to do is appoint a leader who is accustomed to such responsibility and authority. This leads me to my own skills." Falco drew a deep breath and Doderic frowned at Gorby who audibly groaned. When ever Falco stood like that, and breathed like that, it would take hours before he'd said his piece.

"Far be it from me to sing my own praises. A humble nature is my blessing, as my dear mother would say. But you did ask us we offer and so it is my duty to make my skills plain to you. As Shirrif, I am a leader amongst my community. I am trusted to uphold order and peace in a respectible Hobbit town called Bywater.

My name may be familiar to you. I'm no stranger to the hardships of battle. I was there at the Battle of Bywater and did my fair share, more than fair it was said. But someone had to do and I do no shirk from nasty or frightening work.

"Now, aside from being a staunch pillar of order, I'm also an expert in sorting out disputes, and taking into custody those as don't recognise the sancity of the law." With that, Falco's gaze slid to Falowik. Uien's face became cold and still and Falco looked away. He hoped it looked casual and not hurried as he pressed on.

"Whether it's a lost pig or a messenger, I can find and retrieve and know who the rightful owner is. I'm good a supporting myself," Falco patted his ample stomach proudly in demonstration. "Rumour has it that I keep the best larder and cellar in Bywater and with the Green Dragon as a neighbour that's no mean feat-"

"Yes, thankyou Shirrif Boffin," Doderic said as gently as he could. Falco deflated a little, having only just gotten into his rhythm. It was a little demoralising to have a senior officer cut you short. He persisted to make his point clear.

"Ah, of course, Sir... in closing, I think it wise that we appoint as leader someone accustomed to lead. Someone who commands respect. Someone with some sense." Tapping his curly head, Falco finally subsided and sat down with a pleased grin. He was certain her'd made his case clear. Who else should be leader? He was the Shirrif? The matter was as simple as that.

Anson rolled his eyes and Doderic shook his head to clear it from Falco's ample words. Falco meanwhile dared another glance at Uien, who had looked so dire for no good reason at all. He found her looking squarely at him, as if from great distance.

Nothing but Big Trouble, he thought. When the woman ranger named Finëwen said, "Big trouble?" in query, Falco stiffened. He had spoken his thoughts aloud!

"This whole conundrum.... big trouble," he amended quickly. Finëwen nodded in understanding and Uien was smiling, he was certain. She was smiling, drat the Elf!

[littlemanpoet]

Doderic eyed Falco with a look a raised eyebrow, then thanked each of them for speaking up.

"To sum up, the Elf Esgallhugwen-" Doderic stumbled over her name and apologized "-and Falco have offered to take leadership, and Uien supports Falowik, who says he'd not make a good one. All the rest of you but Thoronmir, here, will not lead." Doderic turned to Falowik. "Are you willing to lead, or not, Master Falowik?"

Falowik glanced to Uien with an apologetic smile. "I should not lead, and will not, Master Doderic, though I thank Lady Uien for her faith in me."

"Fair enough, Master Falowik," Doderic replied. "I want to hear more from Master Thoronmir here, as far as leadership goes; otherwise, it comes down to Lady Esgallhugwen and Master Falco."

[Imladris]

Lira

Lira listened with some surprise as Doderic stated that Esgallhugwen or Falco Boffin would be named as the leaders of the rescue party. For some reason, she had always assumed that Uien and Falowik would end up leading them, despite their protests to the contrary. Falco she could undestand, yet maybe Esgallhugwen? She gazed steadily at the elf: she was strong, and had obviously seen much pain and grief. She did look almost like an elven princess, but the idea of her leading seemed so strange for ever since Lira had first met her at the Inn, she had always hidden herself in the shadows. Of course, Esgallhugwen may or may not end up with the leadership. She looked at Thoronmir, wondering what he would say.

Turning her gaze to Falowik, she studied him: rugged and slightly uncouth. Yet kindness shown from his eyes, and when he gazed at Uien, Lira see the love glow powerfully from his eyes, like a great fire kindled in his soul. He showed great humility in refusing the honour of leadership, and that impressed Lira. She smiled gently at him and then turned her attention to Esgallhugwen. Leaning over, her blue eyes twinkling, she said, “If you receive the leadership, I envy thee not, Mellon.”

A raucous crowing assailed their ears, “Eswen…eswen…eswen!” Corn hopped madly upon the wooden sill, his sable wings partially raised as he continued to screech the elf’s shortened name before he sailed from the edge and disappeared into the stable.

[Meneltarmacil]

"I want to hear more from Master Thoronmir here, as far as leadership goes;" Falowik said, "otherwise, it comes down to Lady Esgallhugwen and Master Falco."

"Very well, you shall." said Thoronmir, standing up. "I believe that the best leader should be someone who knows what perils he is leading his followers into. As Falco said, this does require someone who is accustomed to such authority. Yet the ability to work with other people despite their differences is also a key issue. No offense intended, Shirriff Boffin, but I am afraid this quality is just not in your nature. I know some of you don't trust me because of my looks, and would want me to stay out of this quest. But leader or not, I will do whatever I can to make sure you come out of it alive. I have made my statement now. It is up to you to decide."

With that the Ranger sat back down. It was pretty much between him and Shirriff Falco now. He knew that whatever the outcome, he would probably have trouble with Falco before the end, and he hoped the hobbit's mistrust of him was not going to lead to violence, which he would want to avoid at any cost.

[ October 26, 2003: Message edited by: Meneltarmacil ]

[littlemanpoet]

Falowik thought that Thoronmir seemed capable enough, though he wished he knew more about him. He laughed at himself, though his face did not show it. These others must think the same of me! Looking around the table, Falowik saw three factions made up of race: the Elves, the Hobbits, and the Humans; and he realized that he and Uien were the only ones situated to bridge the gap between any two of the factions. So far, Master Falco seemed to have alienated Gorby and Anson, so the Hobbits would not become a faction. The Elves seemed, each one of them, to carry a cloud over her head, at least as dark as the one he'd carried himself, and they seemed willing enough to overlook racial difference. Thoronmir seemed to be the one to pull them together, especially since he knew the area. Doderic broke the thread of his thoughts.

"Seems to me," said Doderic, "that Lady Eswen here - may I name you so, Lady?" She nodded. "Lady Eswen has said that she'd lead if no other spoke up and would rather not if someone did. Is that the way of it then, Lady?" She nodded again. "My thanks. That leaves Master Boffin and Master Thoronmir, unless there are any who would say otherwise." Doderic waited.

Falowik wondered why Doderic was hesitating; then the Master of Buckland's right hand hobbit glanced his way. Did Doderic think he should lead this group, just because he was the eyewitness? Falowik decided that he might as well come out with it.

"Master Doderic, did the Master of Buckland tell you who he wanted to lead this search party?"

"Aye. He said that the yoke of leadership should go to you if you'd take it."

Falowik bowed his head and his shoulders sagged. He lifted his gaze level with Doderic.

"I do not seek the burden, Master Doderic; unless these here would thrust it upon me, though it seems clear enough to me that Master Thoronmir is more able and quite willing."

Falco bridled and rose. "I have something to say!"

[ October 27, 2003: Message edited by: littlemanpoet ]

[Elora]

Before Doderic could will it or no, Falco surged on. He stood and though his stature was not that of the Men and Elves at the table, Falco for all the world appeared to be as tall in his outrage. He pointed a finger across the table at Falowik.

"Entrust this to him! Him? A feckless wandering tramp who can no more work a day's labour? He can't even find a roof for his own head of a night in places he well knows!

We're to follow him into the great unknown? We don't even know if he saw what he saw! Oh, he says he saw Eodwine being snatched by ruffians and a convincing tale he must have made of it for the Master of Buckland to believe it. But I know him, or at least I know the likes of him.

Unreliable, untrustworthy... willing to say whatever he has to, and likely do whatever he has to also, to scrape survival together!

I can't believe this outrage! I-" Falco's spluttering was cut by a voice that quivered with cold anger.

"Have said quite enough." Uien did not stand. Falco stared at her, incensed, mouth reaching for words. Uien merely stared back, biting back hard on her anger.

"I am surprised, Shirrif, that you so quickly forget how circumstance can master us all for a time and how only the strongest amongst us can turn that back." Uien brushed by Falowik's arm as she moved closer to the table to pin Falco Boffin with an unrelenting gaze.

"I had thought you would remember both years of plenty and years of little. Perhaps I am wrong in that. Perhaps you have never suffered in Bywater through such times."

Falco's face had reddened further, and then paled. Uien pressed on firmly.

"Any who gainsay Falowik gainsay myself also. For I say he is honourable, skilled and worthy of this. Who here can say they know enough of me to judge whether my word is good?

"The Master of Buckland is wise, I say, in his counsel.

"But I shall not gainsay Falowik and force leadership upon him, though I believe in my heart we would all of us come to be glad for his guidance.

"Let no more aspersions be cast, lest those who cast them are willing to be so judged, and have a decision."

Falco harumphed loudly but stubbornly kept his lips sealed. Uien fell quiet, though her voice had never risen in her anger. She took that moment to examine the group, each in turn. From face to face her eyes gravely passed. Some nodded, others smiled, Falco simmered. Until at last her gaze came to the man sitting beside her. Uien felt a great restlessly rise then, for she had the urge to both dunk Falco Boffin in a water trough as well as gather Falowik to her and tell him that the hissed words were as meaningful as steam from a boiling kettle.

They were nothing, yet still could burn. She was a healer and she would heal. Eodwine if the will of Illúvator permitted, and most of all the man she loved. There would come a time when even Falco Boffin and his ilk would have no choice but to admit that Falowik was none of the things they thought him and so much more.

The silence stretched, disturbed by Falco's shifting in his seat. Perhaps he knew that Uien was thinking of roofing tacks and his rump. More likely, he had just realised his tankard was empty. He held it aloft.

"I'll be needing more of this. That much I do know," he muttered mournfully as Nob raced forward with a fresh tankard. His toes caught the slightly raised edge of a floor stone in his haste, and so Falco got his ale in a manner. Foam and amber liquid soaked from his head down his face and into his once fine uniform.

From the bar, Barliman roared, "NOB!" The benighted Nob rolled to his feet nimbly, as only one accustomed to such tumbles could, gathered up both the now empty tankard that had clattered to the floor as well as Falco's empty one that was still held aloft. Falco hadn't moved an inch through his shower of ale.

"Get a bucket and mop, you wooly pated buffoon, and clean up that mess. Get the Shirrif a fresh tankard too! Well don't just stand there grinning boy!" Nob gingerly plucked Falco's tankard from his raised hand and turned to go.

"Don't worry about the second one, if it's all the same. I'll have to go see to this vest. The buttons tarnish in ale." Unaware that his statement had revealed Falco's own experience with bar boys who tumble with full tankards of ale, Falco stood.

He nodded stiffly to Doderic as his thin dignity would permit, and then took his leave. Anson and Gorby seemed torn between outright laughter and sighs of relief. Uien herself had struggled to keep her amusement clear of her face. It twinkled from her eyes though.

The Shirrif retired momentarily from the discussion, and the puddle of ale left in his place on his seat unable to offer anything further, it seemed like a decision could now be reached without further outbursts.

[Lumiel]

As the others of the group arrived, she took in their faces and their names, though she knew it would be a time yet before she could put the names to the faces easily. She had a friendly outlook towards one and all, but quickly picked up on the rather hostile though contained opinions of Falco concerning Falowik. Lumiel herself saw no reason to fear or hate the man, she saw nothing wrong with her eyes.

Soon enough they got to business and to deciding about who should be leader. Although Lumiel was ready to put her heart and soul into the search, she had no inclination of leading. She quickly saw she was not alone as the two hobbits raised their hands.

As each member in turn spoke of their skills, the turn came to Lumiel and she spoke softly, wringing her hands together with some nervousness. "I have the training of a Ranger, I was raised as one..." she hesitated, not wanting to go on from that point yet not sure if she should. To stem the tide of emotion that it still brought fresh, she decided to press on. "I have tracking skills as such, as well as hunting and the like. Those I have used countless times. I have been taught the necessary combat skills, but they are yet green in their experience. I will follow whoever leads." she finished, quickly sitting down again as she listened to the others.

The conversation continued, and it became plain that the Shirriff thought he was the best candidate. While he seemed a decent and honest hobbit, she wasn't sure he was the most qualified. Yet she was silent. She had said she would follow whoever would lead, and she meant it. They seemed no nearer to deciding on leadership and it hung darkly over their heads, an ominous beginning. She felt herself that either Falowik or Thoronomir would be the best leaders, though Falco disagreed and let it be known quite clearly.

Lumiel had a nervous face on the whole time. She disliked arguments between people, for some reason it resonated a dark chord in her. But blessed Nob, she could rain down a flood of kisses on the the wonderfully clumsy hobbit who brightened her spirits at just the right time. As the dignified Shirriff was soaked, a giggle escaped her lips loudly enough for all to hear and she covered her mouth with one hand her eyes twinkling like near star. The look on Falco's face made it only worse and she broke down laughing. It had all seemed so tense, at least to her, but a moment ago and now she realized the absurdity of it all!

"Bless you Nob!" she hailed to the hobbit right before she put her face in her hands, trying to stifle her laughter. She calmed herself down and turned back to the group with a wide smile. "I'm terribly sorry, I must seem like such a child to you all. I wouldn't disagree with you myself." She said calmly, now having regained her composure. "I meant no disrespect Shirriff Falco, I myself have done that on more than one occaision, and of my own fault I assure you." she paused, thinking. "So who shall lead us? A vote is in order I expect..." She glanced around expectantly.

[ October 27, 2003: Message edited by: Lumiel ]

[ October 28, 2003: Message edited by: Lumiel ]

[Imladris]

Gorby

I listened with some dismay between the fiery shots between elf and hobbit; unfortunately, I did not understand what exactly they were saying: I just knew they were contesting the character of Falowik and if the Fair One said he was good, well, to my mind he was good. Besides, agreeing with Falco would be like hurling an insult at myself saying that I would stoop to his vain pride. Glancing at his discomfurture, the ale dripping down in rivulets down his vine vest, his copper buttons becoming tarnished, I could not help but snicker and say, "Ale is good for the soul, in more ways than one." Good for cheering up and good for taking one down a peg or two, I said to myself, winking at Anson. He grinned back at me and winked at Nob.

I laughed as Lumiel made her remark, but became quiet when she asked when we were leaving. In one sense, I wished to stay with this merry group as we lounged round the wooden table, wooden mugs full of foaming ales in front of us. And yet, the adventure had the tiniest bit of allure in it: I suppose that my adventure side was rising and growing just a mite stronger. The Brandybuck blood. You had to love it and at times you had to hate it, especially when it made you skip second breakfasts or worst when it made you skip dinner.

[Alatariel Telemnar]

Finëwen watched as everyone else bickered about who shall lead the group. Finëwen herself did not want to lead, still in the early years of her life. She felt the leader should have experience and knowledge on leading. Some things she had not yet experienced.

Some ale had splattered onto her arm, and after wiping it off, her arm felt rather sticky. She attempted to get it un-sticky by rubbing her coat on it, but her attempt proved unsuccessful and she gave up. There would be a stream along the way in which she could. Finëwen watched as the hobbit drenched in ale began to dry slowly, and must have thought how sticky he was. He seemed a little annoyed. Finëwen watched as everyone glanced around at each other.

Finëwen herself was a wee bit confuzed on how this was going to be handled. She waited patiently for someone to speak up and decide, or claim leadership themselves.

[ October 28, 2003: Message edited by: Alatariel Telemnar ]

[littlemanpoet]

As Falowik listened to Falco's and Uien's words, he made sure to keep his expression neutral, despite what went on inside. Falco's words were indeed the truth of the matter, at least until Uien. She had changed all of that, which was why he had to be with her now; he was sure that were she to leave, he would turn back to his old ways, whether he wanted to or not.

While Nob provided comic relief with spilled ale, Falowik felt the burden of leadership weighing down upon him, even though it had only been offered and not settled. Can you people not see, he shouted in his own mind, how much better suited to lead is this Thoronmir than I? He heaved a sigh. It seemed to him that it might be best to allow this Ranger to be leader, and to befriend him. That way, he could give counsel, which from a friend would be heeded, if not always followed. And that would be well also, for he knew that his counsel could err disastrously, and probably would. That would serve better than to take the leadership and leave Thoronmir rankled that the better man was not in charge. It would not serve the unity of the group. Better to let the Ranger lead them.

A loud voice shattered his ruminations. It was Butterbur. Falowik kept his head down. "You'd think I could find help that wouldn't trip over their own hairy feet, begging your Masters' pardons. I hope you'll accept my apology for my twist footed Nob. I-" Old Barliman stopped and squinted hard at Falowik. "Now ain't that funny, sir, I could swear I know you from somewhere. Can't place it, not with so much else flitting through my head, but I'm sure I know you. What are you called, sir?"

Falowik kept his face down and his voice low, but honored the man with his eyes cast upward. "I do not think we know each other."

Uien looked at Falowik in consternation, and glancing at her, he thought he could just about read her thoughts. "You told me yourself that this man was your best friend in Bree before you fled, and that at his counsel! Here's a friend, and you act like you don't know him!" Or something like it. Best out with it, old man.

"I am called Falowik Stonewort, sir."

Barliman mouthed the name, his eyes swinging up and to the right, as if rummaging through the attic of his mind, or the Prancing Pony's, for an old memory. Then his eyes lit up. "I remember you! Falowik! You're alive and well after all these years!" Then he turned conspiratorial. "Seeing how the Great War's come and gone, I wager folk have forgotten what they thought those many years ago, especially since it was wrong, mind you." Falowik winced. He needed to get the subject away from himself, and in a hurry.

"I cast my vote for Thoronmir for leader of our group, and hope that the rest of you will do likewise." He turned to Butterbur and smiled apologetically. "You caught us in the throes of business. We'll be leaving in the morning. Are there rooms enough for our party?"

"I'll see to it, Master Falowik! It's good to see you again! We'll have to have a good long talk and catch up on old times, we will, but business first, both yours and mine." He gave them all a proprietary smile and bustled off.

[Lumiel]

And now it was down to Falowik and Thoronmir for the leaders of their Fellowship. Falowik seemed quite intent on not being the one chosen for the job, and she was hardly the type to force anyone into doing anything they did not want to.

"If you do not wish to be leader, then I shall cast my vote with yours. I vote for Thoronmir." she said softly.

She wondered why Falowik acted as he did when Butterbur seemed to know him and realized that something must be out of place that she didn't realize. Not wanting to pry, she let the matter be until perhaps a more private time and wondered along with Falowik what they would do for the night.

[ October 28, 2003: Message edited by: Lumiel ]

[Imladris]

Lira

Lira watched Falowik and Thoronmir intently: the latter was a strong, confident, assured man and seemed to have a natural talent for leading. Of course, it did seem fitting that a ranger would leave, she thought to herself.

Glancing again at Falowik, Lira gazed at him: at his almost ashamed look when Butturbur approached and wondered briefly at it. A vote was called and Lira weighed the two in her mind once more. Taking a sip of her wine, she looked at Thoronmir and said, "I think that the Ranger is best suited to lead us."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gorby

I sighed deeply. Votes were called for. It's as plain as the nose on one's face that the Ranger should lead. Falowik is, after all, a fine fellow, but there was something about the mien of this Thoronmir fellow. I cringed as I said the name in my mind. I was good at letters, but I wondered if I would be able to spell it correctly when I wrote about the events in my journal later on in the evening. No matter.

Rising, I said, "Now I'm sure all you genteel and clever folks won't care to hear from a 'umble hobbit such as me. But if you should care to hear my opinion, I think Master Thoronmir should have the honour." i sat down and took a long guzzle at my ail. A bit of the foam splashed onto my nose.

[Elora]

Falowik swung matters back to the vote neatly and people followed suit. Uien, for the moment watched the retreating back of Butterbur thoughtfully. Her gaze shifted to Falowik. Alone, he seems, Uien mused, though it is not so. Her gaze drifted to Lira's and their eyes met as Lira added her vote to the others. Gorby joined the chorus.

Uien remained silent, aware that she had overspoken already. Her father, had he of ben present, would be shaking his head in despair of her. Uien's habit of remaining silent when a voice is called for, and speaking when silence best suits, was a matter he had long struggled with. To little avail, it would seem.

Uien's attention swung to Thoronmir. Falowik had himself set his support behind the Ranger. She did not understand his reluctance, for she plainly saw qualities now as she had at a table in a Shire inn commonroom. It was not a matter for contention though. Enough of that had been had already.

"I will follow Thoronmir also," Uien simply said in her turn. There was no doubt or hesitation in her voice. She offered no more than that, but she did smile at the Ranger to show she harboured no reservations in his abilities. That done, Uien bowed her head and clasped her hands in her lap, falling back to her thoughts.

Doderic glanced about the group at those who had yet to offer their votes.

"I think I can confidently understand whom the Shirrif will vote for. What say the rest of the group of Thoronmir as leader?" Esgallahugwen, Anson and Thoronmir, who may well find himself accepting the responsibility of leadership, gathered their thoughts and soon added them to those already aired at the table.

[Alatariel Telemnar]

Finëwen watched as Doderic glanced among the rest of them, meeting her gaze as he went. She decided this was the time to vote, although she was not sure of who to vote for. Falowik didnt seem to want to lead them, and everyone else so far decided Thoronmir was a better choice.

Finëwen rose from her seat, 'My vote shall also go with Thoronmir.'

Not quite sure on whom to choose, Finëwen decided to go with the majority. Taking her seat once more, she waited for the final decision to be made. Actually, she didn't mind staying here a little longer; she felt as if time was slipping by fast, but that didn't bother her. It may just be her young mind, wanting to get on with life, although she would much like to stay here longer.

[littlemanpoet]

Esgallahugwen, Anson and Finëwen added their votes to the mounting tally for Thoronmir, who accepted the leadership with fitting words.

"Good!" Doderic smiled. "I'm glad that's settled. The Master of Buckland has seen to it that you have all the provisions you and your mounts can bear. You have the rest of today to say your good-bye's and make any final arrangements you need. I will meet you in the courtyard at dawn to see you off." He clapped his hands together as if brushing the dust off after a job well done. "If there's nothing else, I have old acquaintances to renew." With that Doderic moved to a circle of hobbits who greeted him warmly.

Falowik excused himself from the table, his eyes passing across the others' faces and coming to rest on Uien's face; for a moment. The others did not see a change in his face, but Uien read his eyes. He walked outside.

[Meneltarmacil]

After everyone had voted almost unanimously for Thoronmir, the Ranger stood up. "I accept the leadership of this party, as per the vote. However, I do have one thing to say. This quest is not for the faint-hearted. You will be in mortal danger throughout this journey. If anyone chooses to back out, he or she need not be ashamed."

He looked at each of them in turn. Nobody spoke.

"Very well, then. You are all coming, I take it. I shall do my best to keep you all safe on this journey. We will leave tomorrow morning, riding north along the Brandywine River. If anyone does not have a horse or a pony, they should buy one as soon as possible. Get as much sleep as you can tonight. We have a busy day ahead of us."

"Good!" said the hobbit named Doderic. "I'm glad that's settled. The Master of Buckland has seen to it that you have all the provisions you and your mounts can bear. You have the rest of today to say your good-bye's and make any final arrangements you need. I will meet you in the courtyard at dawn to see you off." He clapped his hands and said, "If there's nothing else, I have old acquaintances to renew."

With that, some departed; others, including Thoronmir, stayed and talked for a while.

[Alatariel Telemnar]

Finëwen rose and left the table, as everyone else seemed to depart and go their separate ways for the day. She knew no one here, leaving as a small child, and those relationships were never formed. Finëwen decided to hang out at the bar for awhile, till things settle down.

Finëwen sat on a small stool, and ordered a glass of wine. Paying for it, she took a sip and set it down onto the bar. There were a few people at the bar, but not as many as Finëwen had expected. She had noticed no one was able to recognize her, and for some reason that seemed to please her.

She began to go deep in though, when she heard a few that remained at the table talking. Straining her ears, she tried to listen to them.

[ October 31, 2003: Message edited by: Alatariel Telemnar ]

[Elora]

"Well spoken, Thoronmir," Uien said with warmth as Falowik stood. She hoped her staunch support of Falowik had not inadvertantly caused a rift between them and Thoronmir. Certainly, the Ranger seemed even tempered and he nodded back at her. Uien let the others at the table take up the conversation and her head turned to mark Falowik's departure from the inn. The expression in his eyes had not been missed by her.

After a moment, Uien excused herself, and followed him. She passed the young woman Ranger at the bar, offering her a quiet smile and nothing else to disturb her solitude. Uien guessed there would little of peace once the dawm came and the trail rose before them once more.

The morning's light had strengthened in the time it had taken for them to settle the leadership. It fell brightly in the courtyard of the Prancing Pony as Uien stepped out into it. She lifted her head to study the sky briefly. It would be a warm day, but not without some respite. A breeze tangled in the strands of her hair. Mayhap a storm comes to us this afternoon, she mused as she directed her attention to locating Falowik.

She found him standing off in the cooler shade of the courtyard wall. His back was to her as she crossed the distance between them, smoothing back stray strands from her face as she did so. His arms were crossed over his chest, she noted, and his head bent. He turned slightly at her approach, and knowing it was her from her footfall, raised his head to focus on the top of the wall, where the edge met the bright blue summer sky.

"Can you see the stones gather in the day's warmth, Laurëatan," she asked with a faint flicker of a smile upon her lips. So intently was he examining the top of the wall she wondered. Falowik's face was hidden from her. Uien stepped into the cooler shade, feeling the shadow slip over her skin. Yes a warm day indeed.

"It was good to see you safe, Falowik," Uien said more softly. "Heart's ease, this morning, to find you here and well." She reached to set a gentle hand upon his shoulder, and set rein to the longing to do more. Not here, not in the courtyard, he would not be well pleased though she cared little who saw or spoke. Her fingers pressed softly and Falowik turned his head towards her hand. She brushed a finger over his cheek and spoke again over the rushing within her.

"Will you show me this place that was your home, my love?" At that, Falowik did turn and her hand fell with his movement. He faced her, brow furrowed although with what she did not know. She stood where she was and her head tipped to one side as she looked closer into his gaze. Blue like the sky of a morning.

"Please, Laurëatan?" Even as she spoke, Uien was not sure what she was asking of him. Please would he show her where his childhood passed? Please would he share with her a memory, a smile, a word, laughter, the world? Please would he not turn her away? Please would he love her as she loved him? Please would he forgive her heart for chosing that which he would not have it choose? All of it, perhaps, and more.

A simple word, was please, and powerful. It dangled her from its grasp as she stood in the cool shade of the courtyard wall. Uien clasped her hands before her, strikingly reminiscent of her mother as she stood with head tilted up to study the face of her love as if nothing else in that moment could possibly hold any interest with her.

[Lumiel]

As the final vote was cast and a few final words were given, the group scattered in their own ways. The hobbits went to visit old friends, Uien and Falowik both left, and the others seemed to have other things on their minds. Lumiel sat for a few minutes at the table, looking around. There were not many people, not as many as she had on occasion seen at the Green Dragon Inn, yet still she felt the press of them. Too many people still she thought. She wondered for a moment if she would ever become accustomed to people. .The hobbits seemed kind enough, I liked them...but the other elves.... It wasn't that she did not like the elves, but rather that she felt out of place. Her few memories of her elve family made her nervous at the thought of other elves: Would they accept her? Would she be an outcast? Could she forfill her promise? She pushed the thoughts aside. Now was not the time to be questioning herself. She knew the elves would be trustworthy and more than needed on the journey ahead.

Looking around, she saw the young lady, Finewen, sitting alone at the bar. She seemed bright and youthful to her first appraisal, and it was something that Lumiel felt echoed in her own heart. She stood up and walked quietly over to the bar and took a seat next to Finewen who was at the moment sipping at a drink.

"Finewen, am I correct?" asked Lumiel with a small smile on her face.

Finewen seemed to be concentrating on something else but turned to face Lumiel when she heard her name. "Yes, and you're Lumiel?" she asked in the same congenial manner.

Lumiel nodded her head and went on. "You seemed to be in much the same position as me, in need of company to pass the time. I must admit, I certainly did not expect to see so many women here, though it makes it easier in a way I suppose." she said. She ordered a light ale and passed a coin to the man behind the bar as she raised the glass to her lips, taking a sip. A slight grimace passed over her face and she set down the glass again. "Never did like the taste of ale much. But they don't have much else in the way of variety around here." she spoke softly, a warm, friendly smile on her face as her eyes twinkled in the somewhat dimmed light.

[Alatariel Telemnar]

Finëwen smiled. 'I prefer wine, myself, although the wine they have taste a little strange compared to what I'm used to,' she replied to the Lumiel's comment, taking another sip of her the strange-tasting wine.

'I was surprised on how many women were here. I thought wandering through the wild and being a part of a search party would be something a man would prefer to do over a woman, but I guess this time and age must be different. I'm not sure though, for I am still young and do not know what life before me was like, other than what was told to me by my elven caretakers,' Finëwen replied to the earlier statement.

The word caretakers did not seem to fit her elven parents. They were more like real parents to her, though she often thought of her blood parents and wondered what they were like, and what her life would be like if they were alive. Would she be stuck in a house all day cleaning, living a life of house work? Sometimes she felt glad her elven parents had found her, and she wouldn't live a life like that.

Glancing back at the elf, she asked, 'Why have you decided to join the search party? What did you expect to get out of it?'

[Lumiel]

Lumiel paused for a moment, collecting her thoughts. "I guess it seemed the only thing for me to do. I made a promise." she paused again. "I am a full-blooded elf, though I know little of my parents except a few blurred memories. They were killed by orcs." She left it at that, not wanting to go into the details of those memories, of the memories of whom only one other besides herself knew in full. "I myself was later saved by a Ranger named Farin who took me in as his own child and he became my mother and father and taught me all he knew in the ways of the Rangers. He passed away recently and made me promise to reclaim his honor as a Ranger and to find my people. And so here I am, I suppose." She picked up her glass and swallowed down a somewhat unsavory gulp, helping to keep back the avalanche that may come if she did not prevent it. "I'm here for him, you see. He gave me so much, and now I must return the favor. But even if I did not have a mission of my own, I would come if only for Eodwine's sake."

She finished, having given an abridged version for her coming along. There was something about Finëwen that appealed to Lumiel, and she thought that perhaps she may be beginning to make a friend. But still, she was a very private person and did not yet feel safe enough to divulge further. It would only have been a hassle and timewaster anyway, she told herself.

"Now I have given my reasons, what are yours? A woman Ranger is highly unusual, sometime perhaps we shall have to test our skills and learning against one another?" she said. She regretted afterward saying it, realizing that in all reality their chance to see one another's ability would come all too soon.

[Elora]

Falco emerged into the commonroom in freshly pressed waistcoat, still smoothing it over his stomach as he walked. The table had largely emptied. Doderic sat talking with another group of Hobbits, Falco noted. Thoronmir sat with two Elves, Lira and Esgallhugwen, along with Anson and Gorby. They seem to be chatting amicably. If he understood the gist of things, Thoronmir had been appointed leader.

Falco's smoothing of his waistcoat ceased as he learnt of that. At least it is not Falowik.... but Big Trouble will come of this. You'd best be alert, Falco Boffin. You know what Big Folk Ruffians can do. Were any of these at the Battle of Bywater? Falco seemed to settle a little, but warily so. As his thoughts ran, he looked carefully about for some ale.

He settled onto the bench next to Anson and Gorby, so as to keep an eye on the young, exciteable fellows and to listen well to what was being discussed.

"Thoronmir is going to lead us," Anson informed him with a pleased smile.
"Lucky for us," Falco replied neutrally as he eyed Thoronmir.
"And we've got the whole day to ourselves to enjoy before we leave at dawn," Gorby added, beaming.
"Dawn!" Falco's reply was a little high pitched, a squeaky sound of dismay. Leave them alone for ten minutes and look at the ridiculous things they arrange.

"Aye, dawn, Shirrif Boffin, so as to get underway and on our trail before the heat of the day slows us. Those we track have a good lead on us," Thoronmir observed calmy. Falco subsided, still less than pleased at the prospect of his third, no forth, early start with no decent breakfast, second breakfast.

"Barbaric," Falco muttered, his gaze slipping from Thoronmir's intent, if amused one, to the rest of the table. Realising that the chief architects of this folly weren't present, he looked about the room. Before Falco could ask where Falowik had slipped off to with that Uien, Falco observed a familiar face.

With a speed that his stature belied, Falco was off the bench and across the room. He stood at a table in the corner where three hobbits, one in particular, were trying look scarce.

"Well Master Sackville, good of you to meet me here like this. I'll be sure to mention it on your behalf." The Master Sackville seemed to deflate. "Up you come, I'll find someone to mention it to now."

There was a round of protests at the table. "Now!? I've still to finish my pint, Shirrif." Falco smiled obligingly, reached for Master Sackville's pint and polished it off, wiping the foam from his upper lip with relish. "I've some spare time, and I'll not waste it watching you nurse your ale."

With the matter of the ale sorted out, Master Sackville stood and was escorted out brusquely by Falco by the elbow. As they left, Falco seeking a suitably responsible person to deposit this felon into custody with, Falco observed the following.

"Seems to me to be strange, Master Sackville, as to why a perfectly good farmer would steal his neighbours cows and then sell them back to him. I would have sold them at the next town, if you understand me... Then, I suppose you'll have lots of time to ponder that. Mind your step, Master Sackville, don't want you stubbing your toes."

As Falco breezed through the courtyard with his newly apprehended cow entrepreneur, he finally located Falowik, standing with Uien in the courtyard. Probably wondering which horse to steal from the hitching post... Big trouble, both of them.... double big trouble. He was unable to make any further observations as Master Sackville had decided to make a bid for freedom.

"Now, now, that isn't the way and well you know it. We need to go down here, remember, from the two times before... come along, Master Sackville." Off the pair strode into the streets of Bree, Shirrif and reluctant felon. Falco had found something to do with his spare time quickly, and it pleased him no end.

[Alatariel Telemnar]

'My story is very similar to yours, in one sense, but yet it is different. My mother died in childbirth and I never knew her, and my father, a ranger, was killed in the wild when I was still a young child. My elven caretakers found me and took me away to their land, Rivendell. I stayed there with the elves for many years of my short life, and know more than the average woman my age would. I wandered in the wilds, from Rivendell, and ended up here.

'My main reason for coming along this journey is for the experience. My life has only been lived a short time, and I have a feeling about this journey, something just told me to go along. For me, it is just to have the experience of going,' Finëwen replied. She took another sip of her wine, thinking over the journey of her life, replaying some parts in her mind.

She glanced back at the elf. 'So what do you think is going to happen?'