The Green Dragon - Part 2

[Jesse]

OOC: To Legalos's_Girl and to the others I was talking to, I apologize for my rediculous posts. Mods, please do not delete this message because I was apologizing. I'm apologizing to EVERYONE. Now I'm starting over. I suggest to all I've talked to do the same...


---------------------------------------------
*A Wizard walks into the Green Dragon Inn and notices everyone. Jesse has his left hand over his lower left side. It appears he is wounded. The wizard sees an Elf and walks up to her. Her name is Merucial. The wizard's green robes are shining in the sun. Jesse asks the Elf if they could sit and talk.

The Elf looks suprised that the wizard would take time to notice her. Within a few minutes the two were engulfed in conversation. Jesse was asking the Elf a question:

"You're an Elf, is that correct, Murecial? Don't be surprised that I know you're name. Us wizards know the names of the people before we see them. I am in need of healing. If I am not mistaken, Elves are healers. I was stabbed and the wound is deep. Can you help me?" the wizard asks as he lifts his hand from his lower left side. is coming from the sword wound. As the old wizard struggles to sit down, he screams in pain....*

[Burzdol]

The dwarf, man, and elf sat at the table listening to the other conversations around the bar. Stories of tragic and romantic tales were all that was to be heard. Finally, Burzdol told his own story to the two that sat before him.

"Sorry to hear that," Bali finally said after a few moments of silence.

The three sat in silence and rememberence for a little longer. Burzdol watched people passing him or laughing at a joke at the next table. As small tears fileed his eyes the only innteruption was his soft voice, "Goodbye father, I love you."

[ February 06, 2003: Message edited by: Burzdol ]

[Frodess]

"Here, have some water," said Champignonne, pouring a glass form a pitcher that was on the table. "I, uh, I am glad to see a cousin, though ever so distant. My mother, Umbriel, did not associate with the family. I think my close relations rejected her for something she had done in her youth, before I was born." With this, she blushed. She was getting in the habit of giving too much information.

"I suppose that I am to tell my tale,though there is not much to tell." She tried to cover up the somewhat awkward silence, looking at both in turn.

"Um, I guess it started a month ago. My mother told me that I had to get out in the world, though we had been isolated from most of the Shire all of my life. And so, a few weeks ago, she told me that I had to go to Rivendell, and I have a message for the elves from her. I don't know howshe knows the elves, but only that she does. Over there," (pointing in the direction of Tiquandel) "is my guide, someone whom I have never met, who is supposed to take me to Rivendell. That is all. I have come here so that I may prepare." She didn't say how, but she thought they wouldn't undersatnd the psychological preparation she was going under even now.

"And so," she said, clearing her throat, "if I could get some mushroom soup-hot-" (glancing in the direction of Drago) "do you think you would warm up and talk a while?"

[piosenniel]

ATTENTION ALL PEOPLE SEEKING TO PLAY GAMES IN THE GREEN DRAGON INN

The Green Dragon Inn is a place to come, in character, to tell us about yourself,to interact within the Inn or its grounds, and to tell stories.

It is not a place to start up and run an RPG of your own making. If you wish to play in an RPG, then see about joining the new game, "Search for the Lost Messenger".

Or if you have RPG experience, especially here at the Barrow Downs you can look through our 'Seed Stories' and work one into a game by contacting one of the Shire Moderators - Piosenniel or Child of the 7th Age.

In addition, I would encourage all of you to read The Red Book of Westmarch, the first topic listed in the Shire. It gives a good guideline to the rules for posting in the Shire.

[Himaran]

Bali was stunned; his friend's father, dead? Burzdol must feel terrible. The table was quiet for a long moment.

Finally Burzdol spoke. "I have come here, then, to find you, and go with you on your quest. Here is the message my father wrote to you before he died. I was instructed to give it to you."

Bali took the small and creased leather parchment from his friend's hand. Opening it, carefully so the pages would not rip, he read:

Dear Bali, dwarven friend of my son:

I have gotten news of the army threatening your homeland. I feel thus that it is my duty to give aid to our allies in the north. Long has Gondor been a friend to the Dwarves of the Lonely Mountain.

I will send an army north as soon as it becomes available to me (our forces are spread out throughout Gondor). Best wishes on your journey.

Bali sat there in silence, reading the message. "It appears that help is on the way quicker than I could have hoped for it. We have precious little time to spare, but now that I know we will have aid, my heart is lighter. Let us forget about these matters for now, and pass the evening enjoyably." And so they did.

[Nurumaiel]

A young girl, about nineteen years, flung open the door to the inn and marched in. Her black hair fell loose about her shoulders, and her dark eyes flashed with anger. She was dressed in a well-worn riding suit that was black with silver embroidered onto it.

Marching up to the counter where Cami was standing she demanded, "Have you seen a young man about? He would look a lot like me, about twenty-one. His name is Abonnenharad."

Cami looked thoughtful for a moment, and then shook her head. "No, I have not," she said. "But perhaps I did see him, and I forgot. You may look for him, if you like."

"Thank you," said the woman, her anger seeming to ebb a little at Cami's kind and friendly voice. "If you do see him, don't tell him I'm here. He's trying to escape from me."

"Ah, I see," said Cami with a little smile. She hadn't asked, but the woman told her anyway.

"He's my brother, and he went off to escape from home, but he didn't take me with him because I'm a woman. Isn't that the most foolish thing you've ever heard?"

Cami smiled. "Will you be staying the night?" she asked.

"Yes, I suppose. He'll come here any day now. He said he was going to the Shire."

"Your name?"

"Celebgaladhgwend of Gondor," the woman replied without hesitating. "Maiden of the Silver Tree. I wanted it to be the White Tree but I have an elder sister named that. Most just call me Galadh, though my brother calls me Gwend. Please don't call me Gwend because I think it's ugly. I don't like for people to call me maiden, but tree is all right."

Don had been staring at this woman, fascinated. Now she turned to where Rie was sitting. The only problem was Rie wasn't sitting there anymore. With a little sigh, Don settled back to watch the woman once more. She was interesting, especially when she was angry. It's almost as good as listening to one of Mr. Bilbo's stories, she thought as she fixed her eyes on the fiery girl from Gondor.

[ February 07, 2003: Message edited by: Nurumaiel ]

[Everdawn]

Umbria had sat thinking for a while "your story has troubled you for all your life hasnt it?... leaving you no chance to experence happiness. And evil in this world it is to keep familes apart"

she sighed "small dealing I have had with the rangers of the north, so too dealings of folk from the North. I think it is so, that Endel has been on the path to becoming part of them.. As for his mother i fear she is not to be found."

Umbria stared at Durman again. " I am returning to Dol Amroth one last time soon, and there I am withdrawing my residence and sevice to the prince. Though I fear, The city will not let The Everdawn go without a fight. When I return, would you come with me, as my second guard, then that will allow you to pass into the city of Dol Amroth, I will lead you to her house and there I have done a deed to you. Will you consider it?"

She waited, "you remind me of my son, you are very much alike, always follow your instincts Durman, do you hear me, never ignore them, then you will find what you are looking for".

[piosenniel]

‘It’s a pretty thing, whatever it’s made of.’ Amaranthas turned the clasp over carefully in her tiny hand, then handed it to Pio. Pio smiled when she saw it. It recalled to her the knife she had given Mithadan with the inlayed pommel of mother-of-pearl. The light shifted and ran along the lines of blues and greens on the clasp, like the sea’s water, in motion.

‘Look! Here in fine script along the back.’ Pio took Laurie’s hand and bade her run her finger lightly across the surface of the clasp. The letters were worn and hard to see. ‘Well, what does it say?’ asked the Hobbit. ‘It looks like just a bunch of hen scratchings to me.’

Laurie shrugged her shoulders, and looked at Pio. ‘It is very old. Your mother must have had it handed down to her, and her mother before her and hers before her. There are none now in Middle-earth who use this language.’ Pio’s eyes looked away, unfocused, toward the West. ‘It was the language of my childhood. Long ago to you, yet only a thought away to me.’ She turned the clasp in her hand once again, admiring the beauty of the shell.

‘Fallinel . . . Foam Singer. That is what it says.’ She handed it carefully back to Laurie, her fingers lingering along the cool smoothness of it.

[Durelin]

Durwen left the bar and walked silently toward the door of the Inn. As she walked outside she felt a strange uneasiness in her stomach. The back of her neck tingled, she knew that feeling, someone was watching her. She turned around sharply and let out a scream of rage. She crumpled to the ground, an arrow in her chest.

A man bounded out of the shadows and walked carelessly toward Durwen. "So, I have defeated the 'Dark Maiden' with her own tricks," he said coldly.
"How did you-," Durwen tried to ask him, "How-"
"I have followed you ever since you left the east, do not think no one knows you served him," the man told her angrily.
"Who...are...you?"
"Durelin, sister."
"Brother!" she choked, "How could you!"
"How could I what? Kill you? You spy! How could you turn on your people, on Lorien!"
"Brother, forgive me, I-"
"You cannot be forgiven."

The woman's eyes burned with rage and hatred as she spoke for the last time, "Darkness is never completely gone from the world. It dwells in too many places." Then her eyes glazed over in death.

Durelin lifted up his sister's body and carried it into a patch of trees. He laid her down and covered her with his cloak. I will bury her in the morning.

_______________________
The Search for the Lost Messanger RPG is now full! Thankyou! (I'm helping out you mods!)

[ February 08, 2003: Message edited by: Durelin ]

[The Ruling Ring]

Drago smiled weakly at Champignonne, running his fingers through his hair again. He figured he might as well be up front with these two, right now. It was what they deserved.

"I've just come from the Wilderlands," he said softly. "I'd been living there for about ten years, with three hobbit friends. We all set off together with the same objective--a rather foolish one, in hindsight--to learn magic," he looked tentatively from Champignonne to Ellie. What would be their reaction?

[Elladan Peredhil]

Rym listens intently to the conversation. Evidently he is not the only one who feels some uncertainty about the goings on beyond the borders of the Shire. He wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or even more afraid at this revelation.

“Bree… That’s the town half a day’s journey down the river, right? I think I passed by it in the middle of the night last night…” He scratches at his goatee as the memory of the tall gate looming up in the pitch-black night comes back to him.

[Nurumaiel]

Celebgaladhgwend sat down at a table, a plate of food in her hand. She gave a soft sigh, and flung up her hood over her head. If her brother was at the inn, she didn't want him to recognize her. She began to eat, her dark eyes scanning the room. I suppose it's too much to hope there is someone from Gondor here, she thought. Besides myself and my brother, of course. If my brother is here at all.

Her eyes rested on a hobbit girl, looking no more than seven years of age. Her brown tangled curls fell down to her waist, and her large brown deer eyes gazed at Galadh in wonder and interest. When she saw she had been caught staring, she blushed and ducked her head, turning around and beginning to wolf down her breakfast. A few minutes passed, and the girl slowly turned her head. Seeing that Galadh was still watching her, she was about to turn back to her food again when the Gondorian girl gave her a bright smile. She almost smiled back, then a rebellious look appeared on her face and she whirled around to finish eating.

Galadh shook her head, her black hair tossing about. Just like my younger brother, she thought, laughing silently to herself. Wanting to be friendly, thinking about being friendly, and deciding not to because she, or he, wants to be appear 'tough.' But she's different than my brother somehow. Galadh looked closely at the girl She looks like she wants desperately to be friendly, but she's afraid I won't be friendly back. Poor thing. She must have had a hard past. Like me.

Galadh blushed and ducked her head. No one had heard her, but it embarrassed her to think that way, because she hadn't had a hard past. Just one that was rather… difficult. No one would be able to tell by looking at her, but she was a girl who desperately wanted to let loose her tongue and tell every hardship that had come into her life, only she was afraid she'd tell the wrong person, and only be laughed at. She didn't even dare tell one of her family. Not even one of her closest friends back home. Nobody understood.

She finished her meal and sat back, smiling to herself, to watch the hobbit girl. Well, if she wanted to play a game of hide and seek, so be it. If the girl glanced at her, she'd look away so it didn't appear she had been watching, and then look back and try to catch the girl at it. If you play with a child, they'll immediately warm up to you, Galadh thought. At least, that's the way it was with my family. And I think I'll let this game go on until the girl leaves, or I find my brother, or someone -she looked around for a friendly face- pays some attention to me. And so the game begun.

A ragged Elf boy walked through the door into the Green Dragon. His cloak and face were worn, as if he has been through a great deal of hardship.

He huddled in a corner, his face down, not daring to look up. He seemed to mumble to himself, but the words were not understandable. He shifted his weight, so he was now leaning on the wall. "I hope nothing bad happens," he said.

[Orual]

The rythmic thud, thud of the hammers had drifted Rie into a bit of a sleepy, automatic state. She hit the nails with the hammer, over and over again, and eventually she stopped thinking about it and let her mind drift to other things. She heard Derufin's voice, but didn't hear what he said, and kept on hammering.

"Rie? Can you hear me?"

Rie startled, and blushed very hard, her face becoming a deeper shade of red than her fiery hair. "I'm so sorry!" she said, fumbling with the hammer. "I, uh, I guess I just drifted off. What was the question?"

Derufin laughed kindly, and repeated his question. "Where are you from, Rie?"

Ah! Good. This was an easy question. "I'm from Gondor, near the Ered Nimrais. That's where I was raised, I mean. My family moved around a good deal, but that's where I spent most of my life. That's where we were living when I ran away." Her voiced trailed away and she bit her lip, tracing the edges of one of the shingles with her finger. Derufin's face gently invited her to say more. "Oh, it's an old story. I'm sure you've heard it a million times from other people. I wanted to be a warrior, like my father and brothers, but I couldn't--I was expected to be a metalcrafter like my mother." She glanced at Derufin and laughed. "Well, I guess that's a twist to the old story. Instead of being a prim lady and sewing in some lord's hall, I was expected to be a metalworker and craft iron in a smithy!" She laughed again, sincerely, hard, and long. "But anyway, I wanted to be a Ranger, but my father wouldn't hear of it, so I ran away. That's basically it. Then I came here, and I love it, so I have no plans to return. And you, Derufin?" she asked, turning to him with an expectant face. "From whence do you hail?"

[Frodo Baggins]

The pale stranger with dark hair and sky blue eyes pushed the door of the inn open and stepped inside. He was wearing a dark mossy green cloak clasped with a gold brooch. He had a large pack slung on hs back, a harp case in one hand and a carved staff of oak in the other. Slowly, he walked over to the counter to pay for a room, and was shown to one towards the back of the inn. A room in a quiet out of the way place.

A few minutes later, the strnager returned without his cloak or staff, but with his harp-case. He had a green shawl of silk and lamb's wool over a greenish-greyish-purplish robe, with a leather belt clasped with silver, and a ring of twisted gold about his neck. The stranger stood in the door of the common room, as if unsure what to do next.

[Elladan Peredhil]

Rym spots the harp case and smiles. "Ah, I see another musician has come to the Inn." He waves to the stranger to get his attention.

"I couldn't help but notice your harp. I thought we might play a tune later this evening, if you're up for it." He produces his musical pipe from the folds of his cloak.

[ February 07, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Frodo Baggins]

The stranger smiles shyly and then laughs.

"Another music lover sent my way. Thank Eru!" The stranger pushed a few dark hairs, and one or two grey ones, away from hs face, and then bowed to Ryn.
"Please, allow me to introduce myself. The name is Cromthal, Cromthal fo Rathcoe. I come from a remote land in Eriador." He gave the harp-case an affectioante stroke. "And this is Aingeal, my partner in song." he said with a smile. "Who may I ask are you?"

[Elladan Peredhil]

Rym smiles and pulls up yet another chair to the table. "I am Rirrym of Gondor, though most people simply call me Rym, and these two charming women are Rave and Hiri. I just arrived here about an hour ago, and have been enjoying their company ever since then."

He scratches at his goatee. "So.. What brings you to the Shire?"

[ February 07, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Frodo Baggins]

Cromthal nodded to the ladies and sat down. Setting the harp case at his feet.

"Well, lets see. I am a bard and healer by trade. I am part of the ruling class of my people. Though still and apprentice. I will not rule the section of Rathcoe until my master dies. My people are the Brehon, and my order is known as the Sidhe. We speak a language similar to Sindarin, but we are humans.

As for what brings me to the Shire, I have been a traveller for the past few months. I have a tendency to spend more time daydreaming than doing my duty, and I am quite clumsy, I'm sorry to say. A few months ago, my master gave me provisions and his blessing. He then told me that some time in the dangers of the wild would bring my head from the clouds to earth. (If you ever see him, don't tell him that I think it's not working.) I have been a wanderer ever since.

[ February 07, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[theWhiteLady]

Laurie took back the clasp and ran her fingers over the words absentmindedly. She had never noticed the script in all the time she had handled it, wishing and wondering if it held some key to her mother's past. And yet... Pio had seen it right away. As wonderful, exciting, and puzzling as the message was, Laurie could not help but feel rather cheated that she had not found it first. After all, it was her own mother's clasp. She studied Pio's grey eyes with her own clouded blue as the Elf placed the very last dishes into the stone sink and the took Amaranthas' worn fingers into her own smooth hand.

"It is now time that I should depart for the Green Dragon. Thank you for your generosity and I trust that everything shall be arranged with Rosie?"

"Of course, my dear friend, I shall be in touch with Mrs. Rosie very soon. It will not be long now!" The old hobbit patted Pio's slightly swelled belly fondly. "And you, Miss Laurie," Amaranthas turned to Laurie who had stood and was smoothing the folds of her dress as she spoke. "It was a pleasure to meet you, and I am pleasantly surprised to find that your kindness is as marvelous as your reputation is fierce." Laurie smiled down at the tiny hobbit whose personality was larger than those of many of the big and important men she had met on her travels. Amaranthas laughed loudly before looking carefully into Laurie's face. "I wish you much luck on your travels, young woman, and may wisdom and joy be ever present in your life. And don't forget to visit this old cottage if you ever pass this way again."

"I wouldn't dream of passing it up," Laurie added seriously, but her blue eyes were smiling. She then turned to Pio, who was standing by the door watching the pair of them.

[ February 07, 2003: Message edited by: theWhiteLady ]

The elf boy in the corner realized that he might look conspicuious sitting over there. He walked slowly over to a table, and slumped down in a chair.

"I guess this is as good a place to stay for awhile as any," he said. He leaned back in his chair, drumming his fingers on the table. He pulled his cloak tighter around him, though it was not cold.

[Elladan Peredhil]

Rym notices the Elf boy as he moves towards another table to sit by himself. Knowing what it is like to feel the odd-one-out, he considers asking the boy to join the table. He catches the new strangers eye and points to a chair, before pointing to the table in front of him.

Turning his gaze back to Cromthal, he smiles. "That sounds like an interesting tale. Far more interesting than mine, at any rate.. I just wandered here from Gondor, letting my horse pick the direction we went and somehow ended up here. I am glad my horse has such a good sense of direction, as I have met many good people even in this hour, but I still find myself wondering what other places there are to explore. For now I will be content to have a roof over my head, though." [img]smilies/biggrin.gif[/img]

[ February 08, 2003: Message edited by: Elladan Peredhil ]

[nevlhachien]

The door to the Green Dragon Inn slowly opens and a fair half-elven maiden slips in. She removes her hood and looks around the room. Her eyes cautiously search about the foriegn surroundings. Her long wavy golden hair falls about her face. The maiden chooses a seat in a dark corner where she sits, and waits for nothing in particular.

All is busy about her but she just sits. She takes a map out of her bag and studies it. "The Shire. Indeed an interesting place." she says to herself. "What am I, Nevlhachien the half-elf doing in such a exquisite place?"

Nevlhachien looks about the map, wondering whither her next journey will take her.

[ February 08, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

The loud sound of a horse gallop came to a stop, the horse was all black and dark as the night like the tall man, jumping down off his steed. His face was covered in a hood of weather beaten material. He walked up the long winding path to the inn door, it almost reminded him of the withywindle with a lot of grass either side. He had been here before but it was a long time ago. He didn't worry about his horse it was well able to fend for itself. He continued up the path and took the final three steps to the door. He listened carefully and could here the laughter and talking coming from within. He entered.

The wind rushed in as the door had opened and then it slammed shut. He walked to the corner and sat watching, taking note of the people. Two elven maids caught his eye. They were sitting by themselves at a table laughing at past times and happy memories. Swiftly the stranger walked over to the table.

"Greetings, my fair maidens." spoke the man, his voice dry from long travel. "may i interupted your conversation and join you at your table?"

[arelendil]

Elwen looked up and smiled at the stranger standing before her. She thought she remembered him from somewhere on her travels but the thought was soon swept away.

"Of course you may join us." Elwen laughed. "The Lady Nostawen and I do not mind the company."

The man bowed and took the seat that Erulon had occupied a little while earlier. He removed his hood and a small smile lit up his face. Elwen turned to the Lady Nostawen, who nodded and returned the smile.

"Well then friend, tell me of yourself. what is your name?"

Elwen played with the silver bow in her lap and ajusted her tunic of midnight blue. She half wished that Erulon would return but he had gone with the dwarf to seek someone and probably wouldn't be back for a while. The ring upon her finger flashed as Elwen flicked her hair behind her shoulders and listened to the stranger seated with them.

[Frodo Baggins]

Cromthal smiled again at Rym, then he sighed and wistfully said

"Yes, other places to explore. I have wondered that too. Actually, Rirrym, I have decided after wandering alone for a few months, well, alone except for my dear Seargal my horse, I would come and take a look to see if anyone was interested in taking up as a partner with a clumsy, daydreamy bard." The way Cromthal smirked told that he was poking fun at himself.

"Gondor you say? I have heard of Gondor many times, but this is the first time I have been ouside my own land. My master did ensure that I was well versed in Common Speech, the Elven tongues, Rohirrim, and Gondorian." He nodded to the elf boy with a bright smile. Then he bagen to eat the potatoes and fried mushrooms he had ordered.

"Well, this is a relief." he continued "I stayed at an inn a few days ago where I got four potatoes and two were rotten. Thankfully I was told the food is better here."

[ February 08, 2003: Message edited by: Frodo Baggins ]

The Elf boy pointed to himself. Me? he thought. He came over to the table, and sat down in the chair.

"Um, hello," he said. "I am called Skippy, though I know not my real name." He leaned forward in his chair. "Might I ask your name?" he inquired.

[Elladan Peredhil]

Rym smiles warmly at Skippy. "Fair enough, at least we have something to call you now. I am Rirrym of Gondor, though most people call me Rym. The others here are Hiri, Rave, and Cromthal." As he says each name, he nods in their direction so that Skippy will know who is who.

He turns to Cromthal. "I've only had an ale so far, so I yet to taste the food. I'll admit that I'm feeling hungry." As if to prove his point, his stomach lets out a long, low growl and he smiles apologetically . "Foraging in the wild doesn't always keep your stomach full, and I should probably take advantage of the opportunity to get some food while I can. Did anyone else want something to eat? I can go and order some food if you like.."

Skippy nodded. "Greetings, all," he said. He laid his hands on the table and smiled warmly. "Thank you for inviting me to sit with you," he said.

He pulled a small box out from inside his cloak. "This is my flute," he said. He patted it fondly.

[Nurumaiel]

Galadh stared at the little box in Skippy's hand. His flute? I wonder… She slowly approached him, abandoning the little girl (who was thankful she could watch the Gondorian girl in peace now), and, stopping behind him, tapped him on the shoulder. He whirled around.

"Excuse me, sir," she said. "I couldn't help but notice your flute. Do you know how to play the song Trî I Taur?"

"Why, yes, I do," he replied.

"Well, if you don't mind, would you play it for me? And I'll sing."

"But it's in the Elven tongue," the elf boy said. "You are of Gondor, are you not? Can you speak Sindarin?"

"No, I can't, but once a wandering bard came and taught me this song."

The boy raised the flute to his lips and began to play a sweet melody. Instantly all eyes were on him. Galadh found herself blushing furiously. Oh well, it's too late now. I have to sing. So she began…

Filigod glîren i 'elaidh,
govannen na athan glîr.
Gwaew dram moe naergonren
ar echadle 'liran.
Elo! na charu i vain
fael dogdîn.
Ú-garharu i 'lîriath
ar bain uin e-daur.

Trî i daur im badaren,
Badaren dínen.
Ú-thloss lastabain
O taur melui lhoss.
Verthaim ú-bedpeth achas
I vain pain gûr.
Im badaned lastadîn
Na vain ned lhawen.

Eriadúath, eriadant
I thôr reviam.
E rovail beliaedar
i 'waew dogha.
I edhil dhregair lastahain
Tailen nellaren moe
Trî i daur panas.

Trî i daur im badaren,
Badaren dínen.
Ú-thloss lastabain
O taur melui lhoss.
Verthaim ú-bedpeth achas
I vain pain gûr.
Im badaned lastadîn
Na vain ned lhawen.

Elo....
Im badaned dîn lastaren...
Lastaren... Lastaren...
Im badaned dîn lastaren
Na vain ned lhawen.

She finished. Smiling at Skippy, she gave little bow, said her thanks, and retreated back to her table.

Skippy smiled. He did not know that she would know that song. He placed his flute back in it's case, and closed it.

"Music is a wonderful thing, is it not?" he stated. "One of the greatest treasure we know."

[Eruwen]

Rave looked over at Skippy who seemed to be very happy he was able to play his flute.

"Aye, music is a wonderful thing," she said to him. "and it is always quite a joy to hear new songs from other lands. I doubt that anything in Rohan could match up to the songs of the Elves. Do not get me wrong, in Rohan there is many skilled musicians. The Elves have always just thrilled me with the beauty of their sound."

Rave sat listening to the conversations around her. Her thoughts suddenlt turned to Melimo in the stables. A long time she had been in the Shire, yet Rave had almost forgotten of her presence due to all the commotion of the inn.

She stood quietly and addressed her company. "Quite sorry, but I must excuse myself for a short moment." she said. "I must tend to my steed, Melimo, in the stables."

With the last breath of her words, Rave quickly exited the inn and headed for the stables where Melimo stayed. She sat down over on a stool by the steed. As she brushed the soft hair on Melimo's neck, Rave hummed a soft tune she heard some Elves singing on her journey.

[ February 08, 2003: Message edited by: Eruwen ]

[Orual]

A young man stepped into the Inn. He was cloaked in green, his face partially shadowed by the hood. What was visible of his face was young, friendly, and strangely familiar to some of the Inn's patrons. But few, if any, even of those who seemed to recognize him had ever seen him before.

He was an unassuming figure, not very tall and of a slight build. His clothes, what could be seen of them beneath his cloak, were dirty and well-worn, and looked like they were probably hand-me-downs. He walked with a self-assured gait, but not one that called attention to himself. All in all, he looked like a Ranger--which he was.

After asking for a glass of water, he took a seat at one of the tables. The young, raven-haired girl caught his eye, and he smiled at her blush. It reminded him of the one he had come here to seek. "This seems like a place where she would feel comfortable," he said quietly. He threw back his hood and shifted in his seat. Most of those who had seen him come in were no longer paying him any mind, but if they had been, they might have received another clue as to why they recognized him. His hair was dark red, and his eyes bright green.

He turned around and saw a young hobbit girl. She was watching the young woman, who was now singing, but he mistakenly thought that the girl was watching him. "Do you mind if I ask you a question, miss?" he asked.

[Frodo Baggins]

Cromthal lifted his harp case into his lap.

"So, we have two flutes and my Aingeal. I have a flute myself, but tis in my room with the rest of my things. I can only play one at a time you see. Rirrym? Aingeal hasn't had a chance to sing in a while. Do you think your flute a worthy singing partner for her?" he said with a wink.

He removed the harp from its case and said,"If you allow me I shall warm up a bit first." He struck a few cords and began in a voice that was a bit higher than most men

'Tis the last rose of summer,
Left blooming alone,
All her lovely companios
Are faded and gone.
No flower of her kindred
No rosebud is nigh
To reflect back her blushes,
Or give sigh for sigh.

I'll not leave thee, thou lone one,
To pine on the stern,
Since the lovely are sleeping,
Go, sleep now with them.

Thus kindly I'll scatter
Thy leaves o'er the bed,
Where thy mates of the garden
Lie scentless and dead.

So soon may I follow
When friendships decay;
And from love's shinign circle
The gems drop away!
When true hearts lie wither'd,
And fond ones are flow'n
Oh! who would inhabit
This bleak world alone?

The notes of the harp then faded slowly away.

[ February 08, 2003: Message edited by: Frodo Baggins ]

[ February 08, 2003: Message edited by: Frodo Baggins ]

[ February 08, 2003: Message edited by: Frodo Baggins ]

[Nurumaiel]

Don stared up at the man. He looked awfully familiar, but she knew she had never seen him before in all her life.

"Why, certainly, sir," she said, trying in vain to be rebellious. Why couldn't she be? She acted rude to everyone except Rie, and this man was not Rie. "What would you like to know?"

[Envinyatar]

Derufin grimaced as she asked him this question, and he turned his head, gazing South, for a moment. In a quiet voice he answered. ‘I once dwelt in Ethring, in the Ringló Vale. But now my home is wherever my feet can take me.’ And as far from that place as they will. he thought to himself.

‘You look to be about twenty. Am I right?’ He smiled at her, remembering the carefree exuberance of his youth at that age. ‘It was at your age when I left for last time. I am to be thirty two soon. A scant handful of years that seem a life time ago now.’ He looked at her appraisingly, wondering if she understood that that was how it was when one took up the life of wandering.

He stood up, and surveyed their handywork. The last of the shingles were in place and the stable looked as if it would weather many more storms now. ‘Let’s go down and have something to eat and drink.’ he said, extending a hand up to her. ‘We’ve done a good job, and I could stand something to take care of this parched throat of mine.’

Derufin descended the ladder first and held it for her as she made her way down. He took her hammer and the now empty bag of nails from her. Shouldering the ladder, he waved her off toward the Inn, saying he would join her if she wished when he had put things away.

[Legolas'_girl]

SAVE for re-worked post.

[ February 08, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

~~~~~ General Memo ~~~~~

Let's get some good descriptive writing going to wrap around the dialogs between characters.

I would like to see some of you do paragraphs that are a little longer in length, and more descriptive.

Otherwise, nice characterizations everyone!

[piosenniel]

The ride back to the Inn was a silent one. Laurie appeared to be deep in thought as Nell trudged alongside ‘Falmar, and Pio did not wish to intrude.
Only the clop , clop of the hooves on the dirt path broke the quiet.

The Elf’s own mind was turned to thoughts of simpler days. The Foam singers, that is how the Telerin had named themselves. Their voices and the harmony of their very movements adding truth to their naming. They had taken her in as one of their own, teaching her to love the sea. A child of Ulmo she had become, brown under the sun, her arms and legs taking her far into the currents and deep into the depths. She had reveled in the freedom, even now wishing she could sink into the salty arms of the waves.

She shook off these wandering thoughts as they approached the Inn, and turned into its courtyard. They stabled the horses and after wiping them down and feeding them, Pio turned to go into the Dragon. She paused, looking to see if Laurie was coming in also.

Laurie stood near Nell still, and Pio drew near her. ‘If you wish to speak with me of the matters that were brought up at Amaranthas, please feel free to come to my rooms later. I will leave it up to you to ask what you wish to know.’

Pio walked slowly to the door of the Green Dragon and entered the familiar warmth and gaiety of the Common Room. She went behind the bar, and grabbed an apron off the hook to put on.

‘Ale on the House!’ she announced loudly to the room, smiling broadly. Reaching below to the shelves beneath the bar, she began setting up rows of pint glasses on the bar top.

[Durelin]

He had killed his sister. She deserved it, there was no way she would turn back, you saw her...Even from the last moment she was binded to the darkness. She would never break free... Durelin told himself over and over, but he could not help but feel guilt...and overwhelming sorrow.

He stumbled absentmindedly into the Inn just as it was announced that drinks were on the house. As everyone rushed to the bar, he moved toward a table in the corner. He needed a strong drink, but he didn't have the strength to get it. There still could have been a chance...but could you afford to take a chance for a chance? So many questions he didn't know the answers to. And he couldn't think. The noise of the boisterous folk sounded like his sisters scream when he-- It wouldn't go away, the sound of pure agony and anger would never go away. But he was used to this, so many things had happened, so many things that had left scars far deaper in his soul than any sword or spear could make in his flesh. His dreams were filled with memories, memories so numerous that he never dreampt of the future, ever of the past.

______________________________
The Search for the Lost Messanger RPG is now full! Thankyou! I am now done helping you mods! And Helkahothion, of course!

[ February 08, 2003: Message edited by: Durelin ]