The Green Dragon Inn - Part 8

[piosenniel]

Green Dragon Inn Facts:

It is the 4th Age, year 12. By the Shire Calendar it is year 1433 S.R. (Shire Reckoning).

King Elessar is on the throne of the Reunited Kingdom of Arnor and Gondor.

Mirkwood has been reclaimed by the Elves and is now called Eryn Lasgalen.

Paladdin Took, Pippin’s father, is Thain of the Shire. (Thain is an honorary title for the military leader of the Shire. The title has been held in the Took Family since the position was first established in 3rd Age 1979 with Bucca of the Marish as First Thain.) Paladdin Took dies in year 13, and will be succeeded by his son, Peregrin, ‘Pippin’, Took.

Samwise Gamgee is Mayor of the Shire, having succeeded Will Whitfoot in 1427 S.R.

The Innkeeper, in the Green Dragon Inn of this forum, is:
Aman – a young woman from Rohan.

Before her, the Innkeeper was Piosenniel, and before her it was Dwarin, the Dwarf.

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Other ongoing characters in the Inn:

Ruby Brown, Hobbit – not married – server and maid

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

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Ongoing characters from outside the Inn:

Halfred Whitfoot – local Shiriff and Postmaster; his pony’s name is Dumpling.
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Please Note:

• No 'SAVES' are allowed in the Inn.
  
• With the exception of the Innkeeper and the Moderators, no OOC (Out Of Character) comments are allowed in the Inn.
  
• Only the Innkeeper, Amanaduial, or the Moderators move the timeline for the Inn forward.
  
• Visitors to the Inn will need to read the posts that come before theirs to get an idea of what time it is in the Shire, what the weather is like, and what is happening.

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IT IS NOW LATE AFTERNOON HEADING TOWARD EVENING IN THE SHIRE.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 2:07 PM January 02, 2004: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

I want to remind Inn patrons of one of the Shire rules from The Red Book of Westmarch:

Short chat-style posts which encourage other players to post in a chatty style are also not allowed.

Be descriptive, and try not to use a lot of dialog.

Communication between players in the Inn is welcomed, but please try to enhance it with some descriptive writing. This is not a television show or a movie where we can see your character and the environment they are in. You need to provide that for us - not just the dialog of the scene.

Thanks!

~*~ Piosenniel, Shire Moderator

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 2:09 PM January 02, 2004: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Finwe]

Finwë's lips curved in a smile. It had been a very long time since he had been treated with this audacity. It was rather refreshing, considering that it was coming from a rather amusing-looking fellow.

"I didn't say my name. But since you seem so interested, I'll give it to you. The name is Finwë, Finwë of Lindon. And yes, you are welcome to have a bite of my apple."

Finwë shifted, and took out a dagger from his boot, laying it on the bar in front of him. The man standing next to him, obviously enjoying his apple, took the hint, and slunk back to his table. Finwë turned around and sighed. It was proving more and more difficult to get a decent bit of rest. And it was getting blasted hot in his cloak. Velvet was not the most practical of materials, especially in a hot, crowded Inn.

"Oh, bollocks," he muttered, and pushed back the hood of his cloak, revealing silky, jet-black hair, cropped after the fashion of the Dunedain, barely reaching the collarbones. His bright silver eyes scanned the room, almost challenging the other occupants of the Inn to confront him. He turned back to his ale, and took a few more gulps. As he was listening to the conversation of the other occupants of the Inn, he caught a few snatches of a rather interesting conversation:

"I may be royalty..."

"Royalty...?"

Finwë turned in the general direction of the conversation, and saw a woman clad in black, as if in mourning, and an Elven maiden. The maiden seemed somewhat familiar, but he couldn't quite place her. There was an elusive something about her features that tugged at his mind, but he couldn't definitely put a name to her.

"Hmm... interesting. Royalty is it?"

So Finwë decided to listen some more.

Cadorsa swirled the remaining liquid in her mug around the cup. The gold of it matched the dying sunlight to the west outside. She could just glimpse it in the window in the back as she glanced over she shoulder.

However, she also noticed another figure as she looked. Her heart jumped in fear as she noticed that he was listening. The look of him frightened her and she slunk back at his icy gaze, silver streaming from across the room like a frozen river in winter. She noticed he was looking at Sindahir curiously, but when he turned his eyes to her, she shivered slightly. All she felt was winter beneath his eyes, crowned with dark hair and a thin scar running down the side of his jaw.

She kept his gaze till she could no longer and turned back startled to her mug of ale. He had heard their conversation. She was sure of it...

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 3:26 PM January 02, 2004: Message edited by: Mercy of the Valar ]

[The Perky Ent]

When Hamfast had awoke from his hangover, he looked around for Fungrim, who was no where to be seen. Hamfast always had excellent luck for making friends, but keeping them was another story. As the day grew on, Hamfast left the Inn and waited by the door. The fresh air helped in cleansing the hobbit from a foggy exsistance.

Hamfast realised a strange site, as people constantly kept entering the Inn, but none left. But then, he himself had resided in the Inn for sometime without leaving. But surely, there arn't enough rooms and tables to compensate the amount of residence in the Inn. As the day grew, and realising his dirty attire, Hamfast into the Inn to take a bath, dress in the appropreate mannor, and meet Ruby Brown for their dinner date.

[Galadel Vinorel]

A gentle breeze blew through the streets, as the sun began to slowly sink below the horizon of Bywater. Hobbits began to close up their store's doors, while the farmers retreated to the safety of their homes after a long day of work. The only place that did not shut down, yet, was the Green Dragon in Bywater. It's doors were not locked for the time being, and people sat within, talking, telling stories, drinking and eating, having a great time in the merry inn.

Suddenly the door of the Green Dragon opened with a fairly loud bang. A few heads turned as small, cloaked figure entered the room, followed by two dogs, over half as big as the person. The figure crossed over with the dogs, who really looked more like wolves, but not as vicious, to the bar counter. It nodded to the bar maiden, and as she did so her hood fell back to reveal a female hobbit's face. Her eyes were a deep, dark blue, full of light, and she had a fair complexion. Asking for a drink, she sat down on a stool, and called her two dogs to her. "Stock, Barlow, here boys," she commanded gently in her soft voice. The two dogs instantly came up to her chair, licked her hand, and sat down patiently at her feet.

After recieving her drink, the hobbit maiden remained sipping it in her chair, her eyes wandering slowly across the entire room, though her face never moved. She greeted no one, nor tried to introduce herself at all, for it was enough for Autumn Gamwich, hobbit of Bywater, to just sit and watch in the warm and comforting Green Dragon.

[Orual]

Eruisto was a little surprised by the question. "Twenty-five, my lady, coming up on twenty-six," he replied, then laughed a little. The laugh was either bitter or mischievous: it was difficult to tell. "Old enough to have made something of myself," he added, "though whether or not I have is up to debate."

He pushed his black hair away from his face and, with his green eyes dancing in the light of the Inn, he looked very boyish indeed, and very much a rascal. "By twenty-six my grandfather was already a guard, and my father was a smith...he makes armor...and my brother was a guard. And had two children." He shrugged. "Guess I'm the black sheep of the family. I like to think that I have the most fun, though." He took another drink, raising his glass to Melisil briefly, and sighed. "I guess that by twenty-six you hadn't made much of yourself yet, though, had you?" he asked, laughing a bit, and perhaps he was getting a little tipsy, but he didn't really care. He could hold his ale. He looked at Melisil again, though, and bit his bottom lip. He really oughtn't get drunk in front of her. He pushed his glass away and waited for her answer to what he now realized was probably a rude question.

[Melisil]

"Oh," Melisil sighed in his response to her question. "I'm sorry if I seemed slightly rude in asking that. You reminded me of a man I've met once or twice. Though I think he was slightly older then you."

She laughed at his question, "No, I suppose I hadn't." she smiled, taking a drink from her ale. "Don't worry about drinking in front of me." Melisil said, seeing him push his drink away, "I've been around drunk men before... as well as Dwarves and Hobbits for that matter." she smiled again, eating a bit of her forgotten meal which was, in fact, getting rather cold.

Melisil started. Looking outside she realized the time. "Ah how time flys!" she noted, "I'm going to take a breath of air outside. Want to join me?" Melisil asked, finishing a bit more of her food and then standing up.

[Everdawn]

Lanus was getting more impatient (or maybe it was just the sound of the muffled wailing of Sírabel beside him) he tapped his hands on the counter. "Innkeeper!" he called again, but it was not she who answered his call, but the hobbit lass who had served them cake earlier in the morning.

"What can i do for you?" she asked, but Lanus gestured to his friend who was bent over the counter. "I see, ill get something for you right away." and scurried off into another room.

"Oh Eru!" cried Sírabel. "I feel as though ive been hit about the head with a rather large blunt object!” she squinted through the blood which was running from her hair.

Ruby returned with some hot salty water and bandages. Lanus took them from her gladly. “Sit” he said to Sírabel who said nothing. “Now, would someone who was cruel do this for you?” he asked as he cleaned the wound. Sírabel closed her eyes.

“Im sorry Lanus, I shouldn’t have been so mean.” Lanus nodded and she was humbly silenced. In a few minuted the wound was on it’s way to healing and the two were back at their table. Sírabel felt dreadful. She struggled to find conversation once more. “The is a lot of new people who have arrived now.” Lanus nodded as he drank his ale. “Lanus, you said something before, about not having told me anything. You can tell me you know, I wont tell a soul- I don’t know anyone who I could tell.”

“I know” he said, a slight smile on his lips as he dragged his fingers through his dark hair. “And I will tell you, but in time. For the while, lets not think about our quarrel, why don’t we make more conversation, perhaps with more travellers, what say you?”

“I suppose” said Sírabel as she sunk into her chair.

Maladuialion had been sat in the same position for quite some time. Eventually, the cnjrer rose from his seat, and walkedbriskly toward the bar. Once there, he stuffed some leaf in his pipe, and ordered a large mug of ale. He seemed distressed, but brightened when the stein was presented to him. He took a gulp, and his eyes widened.

"Excellent!" he exclaimed "Such ale is uncommon on my travels"

He stood, leant against the bar for another long duration. until he turned to see Eothed. He studied him for quite some time, taking puffs of his leaf, and occasional swigs from his ale. He left his position at the bar, and took a seat nearer a table of Gondorian rangers. He reached into his pouch, and retrieved texts, which appeared to have been retrieved from the libraries of Minas Tirith. He sat quietly, studying the parchments, and lookd up, as if he were referencing the rangers to the documents.He decided to read at a later time, and he put the papers back in his pouch. Again, he sat silently, observing the bustling Green Dragon. He rose after a short time, and left the room. Outside, he looked up into the red sky, and then over towards Mordor. He thought to himself for a while, before walking back into The Green Dragon. Merry and Pippin, turned to see Maladuialion, and he returned a smile,but it was obvious that something was troubling his mind.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 2:32 PM January 03, 2004: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Fire-Galad]

Sindahir looked up from her bottle in time to see Cadorsa shiver slightly. Sindahir gave her a questioning look. All Cadorsa did was nod in the direction behind Sindahir. Sindahir turned around in her chair and met the cold stare of the Elf that was stitting by himself. Sindahir returned his stare with one of her own. Her eyes had the look of the Anduin during a storm. The Elf seemed to reconsider her and the look he was now giving Sindahir, started to make her feel alittle nervous. 'Maybe I shouldn't have done that,' Sindahir thought.

"Sindahir, are you okay?"

Sindahir suddenly realized she was holding her head in her hands and breathing hard.

"Yes. Cadorsa, I'm fine. Really."

Cadorsa didn't seem to believe her.

"You look awful. You should go to bed. Thats what I'm going to do."

"Okay, I'll be up in a few minutes." In truth, Sindahir didn't want to be left alone with the black haired Elf. There was something she didn't like about him, but she couldn't place it. So she watched as Cadorsa went up to their room.

"Excuse me Sindahir, is that your name?"

Sindahir looked at the Elf as he sat down across from her. Sindahir made no reply, but she pushed a silver lock of hair out of her eyes. The Elf just smiled and continued. "My name is Finwe. Did you say to your friend that you were royality?"

A litte bit preturbed at Sindahir for sending her up to their room without telling her, Cadorsa stopped before she could reach the stairs that led up to the rooms.

A man sat with papers in his hand by himself, nearby some Gondorian rangers. Smoke rose from his pipe like the mist of dawn from rolling purple mountains. He put the documents away after glancing over them slightly with worried eyes. She watched the concern that was written on his face like a storm written across the sky and wondered what troubled him.

She walked over to him before she could stop herself.

"What troubles you, my Lord" She asked in her thin voice, knowing that it was rude of her not to introduce herself before starting the conversation, but the look on this stranger's face was so profound it made her wonder.

He looked up at her from where he sat, and Cadorsa tucked a bothersome strand of fair hair behind her ear...

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 1:59 PM January 03, 2004: Message edited by: Mercy of the Valar ]

[Galadel Vinorel]

After finishing her drink, Autumn asked Ruby for another cup of ale and some meat for her dogs. Taking the plate that had two pieces of meat lying on it, the hobbit lass walked outside and placed it on the ground. Her two dogs ate the meat hungrily, as the hobbit stroked their ears gently.

While staring off towards the setting sun, Autumn saw a tall figure approaching the Green Dragon. The person was wore a long, silver cloak, and the hood was pulled low over the figure's face. As it came closer, the hobbit lass suddenly realized who she was staring at and ran to greet her old friend with open arms.

The elf watched Autumn running towards her, she threw back her hood, laughing all the while, to reveal a fair face, with soft, crystal blue eyes, that seemed to dance with light, and golden hair that fell past her shoulders. When the two friends reached one another they embraced and Autumn's dogs barked hapily, trying to jump up and lick the elf.

Separating themselves, they looked at one another and smiled, for it had been a long time since they had last met. "I believe, Galadel," said Autumn cheerfully, "that you have grown much more beautiful since last I saw you, and, though it may seem odd for an elf of your age, even taller."

Galadel laughed. "You, my dear friend seem to have increased in beauty and even height," replied the elf in a soft, musical voice, "since last I laid eyes upon you. '

The friends laughed, and went into the inn together, followed by Autumn's dogs, talking about old times. Smiles were on their faces as they sat at the bar, laughing, talking, and singing. Autumn ordered a cup of ale for her friend, and sat there sipping their drinks and speaking of the new happenings in their lives.

[Finwe]

Sindahir's chin rose a few inches.

"What is it to you? If I am of high kin, it is none of your affairs."

Finwë laughed musically, his deep baritone soothing to the ears.

"Oh, but it is most definitely part of my affairs. Let's just say, that I am of... high kin also. We just might be related."

Sindahir barely suppressed the deep shock that she felt inwardly. A...kinsman? This day was becoming stranger and stranger. As the rays of the waning sun filtered through the room, they turned his skin a burnished gold. Sindahir gasped.

"You...you... look exactly like all the portraits of Lord Fingon. The resemblance is amazing!"

Finwë smiled grimly. The maiden had sharp eyes, and an equally sharp memory.

"So people say. He was my grandfather."

[Galadel Vinorel]

A breeze flowed through the main room of the Green Dragon Inn as the door opened to allow another weary traveler to enter the warm inn. Galadel turned slightly as the soft wind flowed against her cheek. Looking towards the door she saw an elf enter the room, and look around. He was dirty, as all travelers are, yet she could still tell by his clothing that he was definately a dark elf.

Galadel gasped as if the she had been hit unexpectedly in the stomach, and turned herself away from the elf to face the bar. She quickly pulled the hood of her cloak over her head to hide her face as she gasped for breathe.

Autumn stared at her friend, for she had never seen her ever gasp for breathe, nor act this way before. "What's wrong, Galadel?' asked the hobbit lass worriedly.

"The dark elf," replied Galadel hoarsely. Autumn looked up towards the door where the elf stood, looking around the main room tiredly, and then back down at her friend. "What about him?" she inquired, looking worriedly at her friend's pale face.

"I know him from somewhere, Autumn," said Galadel, slowly straightening up in her chair, and beginning to breathe normally, "I'm not sure where I know him from, but when I saw him my breathe left me, and I felt like I needed to hide at all cost." Autumn, now rather anxious, said, "Maybe you just met him on one of your travels, my lady."

"No, Autumn, that is not it," replied Galadel, pulling the hood back off her head slowly, "I know that elf from somewhere." Galadel looked over at the dark elf where he stood. She heard Autumn say, as if from a great distance, "But from where?" The female elf shook her head gently from side to side, searching her memory, trying to remember something that she had long forgotten.

Maladuialion had been quiet most of his long life. He felt the need to speak only when the situation forced him, owever, when he did use his voice, he used it with great skill, and he rarely allowed himself to speak his mind.

He sat for a while, stroking his bard as he observed the inn's activities. His trail of thought was abruptly ended, when a roughly clothed and dirty ranger burst through the door. The man walked briskly over to the conjurer, ignoring the stares he recieved from the other patrons.

He spoke with a soft, yet distressed voice, and he leant closer to Maladuialions ear.
"Isengard has been cleansed, but some orc movements have been reported" he whispered, occasionally glancing around, to catch out eavesdroppers."The Ents have gone back to he darkness of Fangorn, and we are short in manpower and supplies." He continued, now concentrating more on his surroundings.

After a short pause, Maladuialion spoke.

"Pull your men...." His voice diminished from earshot, as he realised that the matter that was being discussed was indeed a delicate one.

He spoke for a while, before placing his large hand on the rangers' shoulder. He spoke softly to him, and dismissed him. The ranger bowed, and turned toward the door.

The ranger turned again, and Maladuialion nodded to him. He left.

The conjurer was now sitting more to attention, and he retrieved the documents from his pouch. He flicked through them quickly, taking swigs of ale, and bites of meat. His scanning eyes stopped, and he read with more concentration. He frowned, the wrinkles on his forehead becoming more noticable. He gasped his stick, and enclosed the parchment into his pouch. He rose, finishing the ale, and giving the remainder of his meat to Dumpling.

He placed his hat atop his head, and nodded to the innkeeper. He rose, his height becoming something at which to marvel. Maladuialion walked briskly out of the door, taking a torch from the nearby stand.

His horse, named Hurmax, was tied to the bar outside. He swiftly undid the knot, and saddled the horse. After this, he mounted Hurmax, and rode out, his figure slowly disappearing into shadow, a silhouette, with the orange flame of his torch.

[Imladris]

Iris of Bree

Iris’s eyes dropped to the table as she saw the wondering glances of the women at the table. Her lips twitched as she glanced up again, and saw Elentari and Finduilas trip gaily up the stairs. Finduilas had her hand upon the elf’s arm and her step was firm, not cautious as it had been with her on the day of the Naming.

Her lips tightened into a grim smirk, she drove her nails into the soft wood of the table, her green eyes hardened into dark jade. Shrugging slightly, she gazed into the table, following the swirls of the wood. How could Finduilas be so happy when she couldn’t see a thing, when she couldn’t even the fair elf that guided her? Speaking of that dratted elf, how could she even deem to associate with a lowly mortal.

A hobbit lass, balancing a serving tray in her hands, swept by and served the couple opposite their table. Catching her arm as the waitress passed, Iris asked icily, “A cider --- please.” As she drank, her thoughts churned like a stormy sea. It wasn’t fair that she could have everything and she have nothing . Why was it like this? Why could Finduilas have a friend and she could not. A silent tear escaped and trickled down her cheek.

[Fosco Burrows]

"I'm waiting for an answer" said Fosco who was now a confused and curious little hobbit.

"We wanted to tell you that all our problems are over Fosco" said an excited Hawley Burrows, Fosco's twin brother. "we have found something we believe is very valuable and of great interest to all hobbits!"

"We were digging a drainage ditch behind the mill when we found treasure" added Fosco's youngest brother Dirkin.

Fosco's Elder brother Gunter interrupted Dirkin as he was sure Dirkin would ramble inanely for hours otherwise! "We believe we have found an artefact from the occupation of The Shire by Saurman's evil hordes. In the field behind the mill we were digging a ditch to help prevent floods when Hawley hit a hard round object which turned out to be a shield, we ended up finding many items of armour and general orcish paraphenalia"

"But what of this treasue Dirkin spoke of, tell me, tell me!" shreeked Fosco with delight. This led to him getting many funny looks from fellow patrons of the inn.

The three brothers moved closer to Fosco and formed a huddle around him. Gunter looked around the inn briefly to ensure noone was listening to what he was about to say.

"We found a small chest that we were able to smash open and inside we found a brooch made of gold, a necklace also of gold and last of all a ring with the eye of sauron that Samwise Gamgee tells stories about etched into the Gold almost like a sygnet ring"

"I wonder if they were Sauraman's personal belongings" mused Fosco.

"No I think they would belong to his pathetic assistant Grima Wormtongue because he took over a large hobbit dwelling nearby during the occupation." Gunter pointed out to his younger brother.

"This is truely a most interesting and exciting discovery" Fosco thought aloud.

"But what shall we do with these treasures, we need a plan" said Fosco. He sat back in his chair and thought quietly to himself. "Whatever we do the first step is to drink ale and be merry and thankful, Dirkin order four of the best ale in the house and one for the barmaid!"

Nuruialien the Elf from Eryn Lasgalen

It was getting dark Nuruialien decided she had better stop for the night. Nuruialien dismounted her horse. She tied him to the post outside of The Green Dragon Inn. She the tied her bow and quiver tightly to the saddle. Nuruialien entered the Inn.

Her five foot eight inch frame stood in the door way observing the Inn's patrons. Nuruialien tucked a flyaway strand of her pale blonde hair behind her ear. She smoothed a hand over her braids.

Nuruialien's quick elf-eyes spotted a young woman working busily in one corner of the Inn. "Excuse me, are you the Innkeeper here?" Nuruialien's sweet voice asked.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 7:52 PM January 03, 2004: Message edited by: Vicki ]

[Carlas]

As the last bit of the sun’s glorious rays disappeared into the rolling hills, a young hobbit lass; Chica Goodbody, stopped to look at the beautiful sight. She took a deep breath of the slowly cooling air as she pushed her long brown locks out of her face. Her cheeks were pink from walking all day, and her feet ached, she was not used to so much traveling.

She looked down the long dirt road and saw a small inn. Warm light spilled from the doorway, as a patron left, and she smiled; she might actually have a place to sleep that night after all. She had thought she'd have to sleep outside, not knowing that there were any inns about this neighborhood. Walking up to the small building, she could hear the laughter and cheering of the peoples inside. She stopped just before the doorway to look up at the sign, which swayed gently in the evening wind. The Green Dragon she thought silently, and decided that she had the time to get a good drink, and maybe stay the night, if she had brought enough money.

Chica stepped into the room, and looked about at the patrons of the inn. Everything seemed normal enough; the laughing people, the hearty fire, it would be a good place to stop for the night. Her father had been expecting her home that day, but she was not cut out for traveling, and had made slow progress. She sighed, and decided to get herself a good, strong drink.

Upon recieving a small glass of ale and a bit of chesse covered toast, Nemair the elf removed himself to the corner of the bar farthest from the door and drank his ale silently. The bread he broke into bite sized pieces, then he arranged them all on the table in front of him.

Nemair was comfortable, he could feel the weight of his bow and quiver of arrows across his back, and his legs were comfortably stretched to the floor. He remembered many a time when he would sit in taverns, alone or with friends, what friends he had, but always it was a time to open his ears and listen to other people with their problems and to laugh silently with any joke that was told. This was his kind of life.

Out of boredom, the elf picked up a piece of bread and put it in his mouth. The flavors of the cheese were pleasantly mixed with the bread itself and altogether was a nice meal... now if only that bird up there will take the hint...

Oh well, its loss, he thought to himself as he popped another savoury piece into his mouth.

[Finwe]

Finwë lost his composure completely. He ran his hand through his tousled dark mane, and stared wide-eyed at Sindahir. Suddenly realizing that he was behaving like an Elfling of 30 summers, he shook himself.

"Forgive me. Do you mean...Prince Legolas of Mirkwood, Lord of Ithilien? This is...incredible! He was one of my best friends and I've known him since he was a lad. He is the only other person in Eriador who knows my true descent. Well, the only other person, until now."

Sindahir stared blankly at Finwë for a few seconds, before managing to choke out a few words.

"Why would he have sent me that letter? It almost seems as if he wanted us to meet somehow."

Finwë nodded. His old friend definitely had a penchant for impulsive decisions and complicating situations. After all, he had gone on that suicidal Quest for Mount Doom, as a member of the Fellowship. Finwë found it remarkable that his friend had survived the consequences of his impulsive decision. If anyone knew what was going on, it would be Legolas, and there was only one place to find him. Finwë shook his tousled mane out of his eyes, and with a new glow in his eyes, turned to Sindahir, and took her hand in his.

"You said that you were going to Minas Tirith or thereabouts, were you not? Do me the honor of accepting me as a traveling companion. I know these roads, and I daresay that I can keep you and your party out of danger. It is to our advantage if we find out about our family history... cousin."

[Niluial]

Niluial wrapped the handkerchief around her hand tightly to stop the bleeding. Niluial watched the grumpy woman roll her eyes as she looked outside. Niluial sighed people these days… so grumpy all the time! And then they have to come and sit at tables where troubled people sit! What is middle-earth coming to Niluial thought. She glared at her kitten as it walked proudly around with its bushy tale in the air. "Cats are like that," Romenna said while she looked at Silma. Niluial tapped her fingers lightly on the table wondering if it was a good idea to let any of the travellers sit at her table. Actually it was a good idea. No one can find me this way… they will think I am just a woman visiting with her miserable friends Niluial thought then smiled at herself. "Greetings and fair skies to you, my lady. I am Romenna of Gondor. Traveller, and guard for hire. My companion is Niluial, and I know not the name of the kitten." Romenna said trying to make conversation. Niluial smiled "Her name is Silma." Silma jumped back on Niluial's lap and purred once again. Niluial thought what Romenna had said and was taken by surprise, she turned and looked at Romenna "You are a guard for hire? I have never known a female mercenary before."
"I was the second youngest in a family of four boys," Romenna said. "All of them became warriors for Gondor. Without a mother to insist upon propriety, I don’t think they ever truly realized that I was a sister, not another brother." Romenna looked at Niluial and smiled. “At any rate, I learned war craft with the rest of my brothers. There are few opportunities for female warriors, but I have no other skill. The work is perhaps less glorious than for men, but such is the world." Romenna said and then took a sip of her tea. Niluial thought for a few seconds. “Well it sounds like you have had an interesting life, actually. There is not much to say about me and my whereabouts I might just bore you to death, I don’t exactly want to do that now!" Niluial said winking at the two ladies.

There was silence one again and Niluial feared she hadn’t told them enough “um, Silma is from a little hobbit village, I found her there when I passed by on my journey, I had to take her with me. Look at her, who could leave her behind?” Niluial smiled. She loved her kitten dearly, too much actually. Niluial looked at the odd woman who she knew nothing about “and you are?” Niluial said waiting for a reply.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 4:23 AM January 04, 2004: Message edited by: Niluial ]

[Teleri]

"Rose..."

"Not now Lily."

"But..."

"I am speaking with someone, see?"

Lily couldn't see, the counter was higher than her head. Peering around the edge she saw her sister was talking to Andy Goodbody, and blushing so deeply that she was as pink as her name-sake.

Sighing, Lily sat down in the corner, out of the way, and hugged her knees. The Hobbit lass was not particularly pretty (she was one of the few children born in 1420 with brown hair), though something about her eyes made her gaze entrancing at times. As she waited in the corner, she unconsciously tried to rub some mud off the hem of her frock. Her stomach grumbled; a day of hard play had left her hungery. Looking for a diversion to stave off hunger, she drew out a little green book. Over top of it her name was written. Lily had learned some of her letters (quite enough for a girl to know). Out of the notebook, she took a pressed golden leaf. She had caught it last year, as it fell from the mallorn on the Hill. She made wishes on it sometimes. Now she kissed the leaf, and made a wish "I wish that I could have something to eat soon..."

She put the treasured leaf away, and looked up from where she sat. She caught the eye of a stranger. He was a man of the same age, there abouts, as her father. He was small, but he was no Hobbit. He was dressed humbly, like a gardener, and his clothes were worn with age and weather. Something about this child must have struck him (perhaps it was her wide-eyed stare), because he called out to her
.
"What is your name lass?"

"Lily Hornblower, Sir." Lily stood up.

"Well, Lily," said the man, pulling up a stool next to his, "will you let me treat you to dinner?" Lily smiled, and silently thanked her little mallorn leaf.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 6:08 AM January 04, 2004: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Amanaduial the archer]

After signing in two new people into the guest book, serving drinks to a rowdy rabble of hobbits and popping in to check up on how the meal was getting along, Aman was feeling rushed off her feet and still hadn't been out to see the horses. But there were no new customers right now, Buttercup was making the rounds....looking around furtively, Aman sidled out from behind the bar and began to make her way casually towards the door, with all appearance of busily checking everything was alright with the customers seated at the tables...

"Excuse me, are you the Innkeeper here?"

A sweet voice told Aman her charade has maybe not been convincing enough. Turning guiltily, Aman viewed the owner of the voice: an elf, as she had guessed by the slightly musical edge of the voice, although whether of Lorien or Eryn Lasgalen was confused by her pale blonde, braided hair accompanied with brown eyes.

The elf smiled nervously and Aman nodded politely. "I am indeed - my name is Aman. Can I help you?" A sudden idea struck the rohirric Innkeeper and she beamed even more widely inside. "...and have you a horse that needs seeing to?

Nuruialien smiled, "Yes. I am Nuruialien. I need lodgings for the night."

"Well the welcome to the Green Dragon Inn. I am Aman. I'll find you a room. But first let's get your horse into the stable," the innkeeper said.

Nuruialien went out front and until her horse, Helkarant. She followed Aman around to the stables. There she saw many horses each tied into a stall.

Nuruialien led Helkarant into one of the empty stalls. There she tied him up and removed her bow and quiver. Aman came over with a feed bag for Helkarant.

Once Helkarant was tethered and fed. Nuruialien and Aman returned to the inn. "May I get you something to eat before you go to your room?" Aman asked.

"That would be nice. Thank you," Nuruialien said. She took a seat at one of the many wooden tables in the large room. Nuruialien sat back to observe the other patrons of the Inn.

[Fire-Galad]

Sindahir was surprised. Not that Finwe had taken her hand but that she had done nothing. Sindahir felt calm for the first time in six months. Suddenly she remembered something that her father had given her. It had been a thick bracelet made of silver with a small blue ribbon tied in a bow on it. Sindahir looked up at Finwe's silver eyes. 'Should I tell him about the bracelet?'

"Finwe, I have something you should see. It belonged to my father and he said it had belonged to his oldest brother. I believe that it might have been Fingolfin's because it had his emblems, blue and silver. I sort of was hoping that you would know more about our family." Sindahir had explained away the main reason for going back to Mians Tirith.

'When Finwe tells me what I need to know, I can leave this place and go to Valinor just like I meant to.' However, as Sindahir was thinking a painful thought hit her. Cadorsa would be upset that Sindahir had broken her promise. Finwe he...uh...he would... Sindahir couldn't think of a good reason.

Finwe let go her hand and Sindahir ran up the stairs that led to the room, just catching a glimpse of Cadorsa with a group of Ithilian rangers. After digging in her backpack for what seemed like an hour, Sindar finally found the bracelet. Whether the bracelet was magic or well made and the ribbon of strong weave, the silver hadn't tarnish and the ribbon stayed as beautiful as ever. Sindahir ran back down the stairs to tell Cadorsa that Finwe was a new companion and ask him about the bracelet. The second part was easier. Finwe look up as Sindahir sat down. "I accept yuor request to be my companion." Sindahir put the bracelet on the counter. "What can you tell me about it?"

[Eothed]

Meneldur walked swift and soft up the hill. He looked down at a few small houses. It were dawn and he cold see a few lights in the windows. He slowly walked down and got closer to the houses, he saw a sign that said it was a Inn nearby. He walked to the Inn and entered. He was cold and hes legs were shaking. The air at the Inn was warm and comfortable. He walked straight to the Innkeeper and asked for a room for the night. Then he ordered an ale and sat down by a empty table.

He looked out of the windows at the Inn and it was starting to get quiet dark outside. He sighed and removed his hood. He shaked his long chocolatebrown hair. He had been in wilderness for a very long time and he felt lonely now and whanted to speak to someone. The wilderness and the lonely wandering had made him very silent and reserved. But now he whanted to talk after all silence and lonelyness.

He looked around himself for someone to talk to.

[piosenniel]

Baruk Khazâd! Axes of the Dwarves!

DWARVES NEEDED TO RECLAIM MORIA!

__________________________________________________ ________________

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ NOTICE OF NEW GAME OPENING ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Amanaduial and Imladris invite you to look at the proposal for their new game:

~*~ Last Hope for Moria ~*~.

Click HERE for the Discussion Thread.

Read the proposal thoroughly, re-read the suggested parts of the Lord of the Rings trilogy, and take time to craft a good character and a well done First Post.

This should be a fun game! See you then!

[img]smilies/smile.gif[/img] Happy New Year to All! [img]smilies/smile.gif[/img]

~*~ Piosenniel, Shire Moderator

Nuruialien watched as a man with dark brown hair and the appearance for a wilderness man walked in. He took a seat at a table, he appeared to be searching the room.

Nuruialien knew that he must be looking for someone to talk to. She rose from her table and walked over to his. "Is this seat taken?" she asked him.

[Eothed]

"Is this seat taken?" She asked. Meneldur tried to find the right words, it was hard to speak and he had almost lost his manners. "Well, yes, my Lady.", he answerd with a smile.

Finally, he thought, someone to talk to. He looked at her and then said quiet;"So, who are you, my Lady? And where are you from?" He were so embarassed for his manners. He looked down at the table and tried to not seem so shy.

He awaited Nuruialien to answer.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 3:32 AM January 05, 2004: Message edited by: Eothed ]

[Finwe]

Finwë's silver eyes narrowed as he looked at the bracelet. He picked it up and studied it closely. As he turned it around in his hands, he lightly ran his fingertips over the fastening of the bracelet. Suddenly, he smiled. Sindahir looked up at him, questioningly. Finwë leaned forward and whispered:

"Come outside with me for a few minutes. This is far too priceless to be shown to the people in here."

Sindahir got up and accompanied Finwë outside. She had to hurry to keep up with his long strides, for he was very tall, even for an Elf. He walked over to a deserted corner and motioned her closer. Sindahir moved closer to look at the bracelet. As Finwë's fingers ran lightly over an almost imperceptible bump on the bracelet, a small hatch sprang open. Sindahir gasped. She could see stones of sapphire and adamant glittering inside, along with stones of a material that she had never seen before, shining with an oddly soothing, silvery-white light. Finwë nodded grimly.

"It is as I thought. This bracelet, along with its brothers, was made in Valinor by none other than the famous craftsman Mahtan. One brother bore gems of the color of the House of Fëanor, rubies, topaz, gold, and garnet. Another, this bracelet, bore the colors of the House of Fingolfin, blue, silver, and white. The last, and youngest, bore jewels of the colors of the House of Finarfin, gold and white. It was written that the Heads of those Houses bore this bracelets, and at their deaths, the bracelets passed on to their offspring. Fingolfin's is now found and Finarfin's is with him, in Valinor. The only bracelet unaccounted for is that of the House of Fëanor, the Dispossessed. I made it my life's work to search for the remaining bracelets, and they have been found now."

Sindahir looked up at him. The rays of the setting sun dyed his alabaster skin with shades of gold, seemingly turning him into a golden statue.

"I thought you said that the bracelet of the House of Fëanor was lost."

Finwë smiled grimly, as was his wont.

"It had been thought lost, but I have found it. It took me a century to find it, a century of searching in some places whose evil you couldn't even imagine."

Sindahir's eyes widened in fear. There was only one place that contained such nameless evil. Even though the Dark Lord had been defeated, Mordor was still a place of great fear. She murmured:

"You...you... went to... Mordor?"

Finwë looked at her and silently pointed to his scarred cheekbone.

"I was physically and emotionally scarred forever. But I did find what I had been searching for. After grievously wounding Fëanor, Gothmog, Lord of Balrogs, took the bracelet, and gave it up to his master, Morgoth. Morgoth gave it unto his servant Sauron for safekeeping, and so it remained for two Ages of this world. It goes to show, evil will ultimately be defeated by what is good and right. That bracelet has been recovered."

Sindahir tremulously asked:

"Do you still have the bracelet?"

Finwë flicked back his cloak, undid his bracer, and pushed up his sleeve. The designs on the bracelet sparkled and danced in the light of the setting sun.

"However, my victory came at a price. The taint of the Doom of Mandos, and of the Dark Lords, lay upon this seemingly harmless trinket."

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 4:09 PM January 04, 2004: Message edited by: Finwe ]

[Amanaduial the archer]

Tending to the elf's horse smoothly and deftly, Aman regretfuly rubbed the nose of Pio's fine mare briefly as she passed, but was unable to stop - she would have to sign in this elf-maiden first (from Eryn Lasgalen, she was almost sure...).

Stepping back into the hustle and bustle of the Inn, Aman wove towards the front with the elf following in her path, always looking around; the Green Dragon came as a surprise to most with its complete range of company, and most elves were not too high and mighty to be amazed. Aman smiled to herself: The Green Dragon - one of the wonders of middle earth!

Signing the elf into the logbook, Aman surreptitiously took a look at the name, before her eyes flicked back up to the elf and she nodded politely, smiling. "Welcome to the Dragon, Nuruialien."

The elf smiled and waited as Aman ran quickly through all instructions, leaving the key behind the bar with the rest so the elf could ask for it when she needed it, as she wasn't going to her room immediately. Rather she paused, turned to contemplate a dark, withdrawn looking man; a ranger, there was no doubt.

Aman made sure they both had a drink then began to weave across the Common Room again. I will get to the stables, I will get to the stables, I will get to the-

A snippet of conversation, spoken rather loudly considering its content, made the Innkeeper stop and back up a step, eyebrows shooting up.

"...the Doom of Mandos, and of the Dark Lords, lay upon this seemingly harmless trinket."

The Innkeeper looked around sharply to see the words had come from a pair of elves, a woman and a man, in the corner furthest from the bar...and from the door. However, there would be no alarm spreading from such words, not in her bar...setting her jaw, Aman strode over. As she reached the pair, she smiled brightly. "You done with these?" she questioned sunnily, indicating the cups in front of the pair. Startled, they looked up at the Innkeeper who, despite her small stature, seemed to be looming. A murmured assent allowed Aman to lean over to get them, and she came level with their faces, looking both in the eye warningly.

"Now, talk though you may of Mordor, and of the Dark Lords, I would very much rather you did not do so where there are people who may be alarmed, and certainly 'tis alarming. I know," she held out a hand placatingly as the man started angrily, about to say something. "I know that was probably not your intention, but I have a policy of weapons being left outside, and words such as these can be weapons, of a sort. The time for storytelling is the evening, and then your tale shall be welcome. But now..." she paused, straightening.

A slight smile seemed to hover around the elf-man's lips. "You have excellent hearing it seems, mistress Innkeeper."

"Aman will do, thankyou sir." She smiled warmly, then addressed both of them. "May I ask if you need anything else...or if either of you have a love of horses?"

Nuruialien smiled at the ranger. She took a seat across from him. "I am Nuruialien. From Eryn Lasgalen."

She noticed he seemed very shy now that she had come over. He looked down at the table. "What brings you to these parts, sir?"

[Melisil]

Melisil waited for Eruisto to answer. As she waited, she looked around the Inn. There was a plaque over the shelves of beer which looked old, sad, an unread for quite some time. She guessed a previous innkeeper had hung it up there, and afterwards had been forgotten.

There are songs to be sung,
And tales to hear,
So on the peg let your hat be hung,
Behave or be out on your ear!

Melisil pondered it for a while, particularily the first two lines. "I wonder when a song was sung, or a tale told in this in last? Certainly not recently it seems." thought the Elf.

Strangly and instantly she burst into song, her Elvish voice ringing throughout the Inn. She did this feeling the words of that plaque should be fulfilled once more.

"Anda, anda yá,
Melin Ladris linda,
Líre alcarin quenta enwina!
Urúva felya, oron eruanna
Se líre! Se líre! Ilya lúme!
Líre, líre, melin Ladris;
Líre, líre, ilya lúme!

Haire, haire au,
Melin Ladris linda,
Hamalánalanne malta!
As írima eruanna, páten tercaced
Se lána! Se lána! Ilya lúme!
Lána, lána, melin Ladris;
Lána, lána, ilya lúme!"

[Finwe]

Finwë smiled, a rare occurrence which lit up his handsome face.

"Forgive me, Mistress Aman. I have this rather... irritating tendency to forget that I'm in a public place when I get into serious discussions. This will not happen again. Did you mention horses? You are speaking to a Noldo, mellon nin. We adore horses. They usually tend to subdue our rather suicidal tendencies."

Aman laughed, and picked up the two mugs sitting on the table, taking them to the kitchen to be washed. Sindahir chuckled along with her. The invisible wall between the two had finally been broken. The glance that they shared suddenly had new meaning. They had each found a new friend.

[Orual]

Eruisto's eyes widened as Melisil sang. He was not very well-versed in the art of song, but he knew that Melisil had a beautiful voice. As her song continued, his eyes widened further. His mother had sung this song to him, when he was young, or a lesser version of it. But he remembered the last few lines, and sang them with Melisil.

He sang quietly, not truly wishing to be heard over Melisil, as he did not have much confidence in his ability to sing. His pleasant (though he did not think it) bass voice was not heard by many, but the few who did hear it thought it played nicely to Melisil's pure soprano. He smiled bashfully when Melisil finished, and tried to pretend that he hadn't been singing at all.

"You have a lovely voice," he commented, hoping that she hadn't noticed his joining in. "Do you sing often? We can talk as we walk."

[Child of the 7th Age]

Hawthorne Brandybuck

Hawthorne Brandybuck jabbed her heels repeatedly against her pony's withers and trotted up the South Lane in the direction of Bywater. Her chestnut curls jounced up and down against her back, framing a pair of blue eyes that glinted with determination. Approaching the crossroads without slowing down, Hawthorne yanked back on the reins at the last moment and brought Periwinkle to a walk, staring intently at the unfamiliar structure that now loomed west of her, no more than fifty paces distant. A sturdy wooden sign hung from a pole in front of the building, proclaiming it as “The Green Dragon Inn”.

The hobbit lass dismounted her pony and bounded up the steps, her expression relaxing into a smile. She was further away from home than she had ever been, and that alone made her happy. She had managed to leave her servant and companion a good ways behind. About two miles down the South Lane, a pony cart inched slowly up towards Hobbiton, its wheels creaking out a protest against the heavy load. This cart held all of Hawthorne’s worldly belongings, including several chests filled with articles of clothing and trinkets the young hobbit could not bear to leave behind. The driver of the cart was Dandelion Greenhand, a stout and sensible Harfoot of middling years whose principal task in life was to keep an eye on Hawthorne and make sure that she did not meet a disastrous end.

Despite running off from her companion, Hawthorne was fond of Dandelion. The older hobbit had entered the service of Brandy Hall twelve years before to care for all the Brandybuck children. Hawthorne had been a young lass then. The earlier nanny, Cami Goodchild, had unexpectedly left Buckland for a post in distant Gondor, never to return. Although Hawthorne had been fond of Nanny Cami, she was delighted to discover that the new nursemaid did not require so much serious schoolwork.

Over the years, all of Dandelion’s other charges had gone off and married, starting families of their own. Younger servants had come into these households to help tend the newborn babes. Eventually, only Hawthorne had been left in Dandelion's care.

Two months earlier, the young lass had announced to her parents that she was determined to go adventuring. Although not yet of age, Hawthorne had taken a fancy to the idea of a carefree life on the road. Her parents’ initial reaction had been one of horror. No respectable daughter of a well-to-do hobbit landowner would ever countenance such an unconventional lifestyle. Hawthorne’s mother, Hornbeam Proudfoot Brandybuck, had almost fainted at this suggestion since her daughter was just reaching the age when she should be trying to snare a young hobbit lad. Meriadoc Brandybuck, recently named Master of Brandy Hall, had finally intervened and, making certain assurances to the parents, persuaded them to let young Hawthorne journey to the West Farthing in the company of her old nurse. Letters were exchanged between Brandy Hall and Bag-end to provide additional guarantees for Hornbeam and Otto that all would be well with their daughter.

Yet all these trying details were far from Hawthorne’s mind as she pulled open the Inn door and peaked inside the Common Room. The place was filled with folk of every age and description, representatives of various peoples and lands. Hawthorne had never seen so many different folk gathered in one place. To be truthful, she had never even spoken with an Elf, but had only viewed one or two from a distance. As her eyes swept the room, she gasped in sheer surprise to see so many of the fair folk, tall and graceful and looking a bit melancholy, seated throughout the dining area.

[Teleri]

The food was very good. It was so good that it became difficult to remember the table rules, and one even wonders if table rules are to be used at counters, as well. The small man did not seem to mind any accidental slip of manners. Lily found herself warming to this kind stranger.

"I had never seen Hobbiton before today." he said, and took a puff of his pipe. The weed was Old Toby, though Lily nothing of such things as smoking.

"And what, may I ask, do you think of it, sir?"

"I think that it is as delightful as it's folk." Lily smiled at this complement to her home. "Halflings, or Hobbits, if you will, are by far the most cheering folk I've ever met. But there seem to be more than just Hobbits here..."

"Well, now, sir. It's a queer thing, these days, half the folk who're put up here at the Dragon-and I've heard tell it's the same at The Ivy Bush, too- are from the south and the east. And you know what, sir? Now my sister Rose, she don't believe me, but I think some of them are Elves, sir!"

"Elves, really?" He said, as one who is favoring a childs fancy. But secretly he was listening closely.

"Yes, Elves. Just like from the old stories. Fair folk, they are, and they talk as like to singing. Now there's a lady staying here, sir, and I think she must be an elf, but I'm afraid to ask her..." Lily flushed. "I'm sorry, sir, but I've gone and talked more'n I sould have."

"That is quite alright." He said, as he paid for the meal. "But now, please excuse me, for I have bussiness to attend to." He began to leave, then turned on his heel, and said "I don't believe I introduced my self. I appologize. My name is Gam Son of Giles. It has been delightful talking to you Miss Hornblower, and I hope to see you many times before my stay here is over." Then he left, and Lily hopped down from the stool, and went back to her little corner. She took out her Mallorn leaf, and gazed at it with wonder. She kissed the leaf, and whispered "Please let me find some mushrooms on the way home."

[Eothed]

"What brings you to this part, Sir?" she asked. "Well, I am Ranger and I have been wandering in the wilderness for a long time, around Ithilien and so.", Meneldur said, "And what brings you here, my Lady?"

Meneldur orderd another ale and he were happy that he maybe had made a new friend. He looked at Nuruialien that were just about the answer his question.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 10:06 AM January 05, 2004: Message edited by: Eothed ]