The Green Dragon Inn - Part 4

[piosenniel]

To refresh everyone's memory:

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.

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:

Derufin, a Man from Ethring in the Ringló Vale, is the stablemaster and general handyman/jack of all trades for the Inn.

Vinca Bunce, Hobbit – ‘Cook’ – widowed runs the kitchen

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.

Amaranthas Bolger – very old, crotchety Hobbit from Hobbiton, nicknamed ‘The Dragon’

Piosenniel – Elven, Innkeeper prior to Aman; married to Mithadan; has two children: a twin boy and girl; as yet unnamed infants.

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+

At present it is still morning in the Shire - a warm, summer's morning, to be exact.

[piosenniel]

Please do not attach any 'chatty' messages to the ends of your posts - use your PM's (Private Messages) if you wish to speak with another writer in the Inn.

No OOC (Out Of Character) comments either, please, except as directions by the Moderators and the Innkeeper.

~~ Piosenniel, Shire Moderator

[ June 16, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Ealasaid]

Benia, half-blinded by the sharp contrast between the bright sunlight out of doors and the darkness of the interior of the inn, made her way through the throng of curious hobbits to the stairs. She was in a hurry to get out of the common area to the safety and privacy of her own room. Her encounter in the courtyard with the cloaked man on the gray horse had set her nerves on edge. She did not trust him and had a feeling that the more distance she put between herself and him, the better. Her arms loaded down with parcels, the provisions for her upcoming journey, she took the stairs quickly.

Unfortunately for her, in the excitement and confusion of emptying the attic of its treasures, one of the employees of the inn had dropped a pewter tankard on the stairs just below the landing. Benia's foot landed squarely upon it, and, the next thing she knew, she was airborne. She landed at the bottom of the stairs with a loud thump, her right leg bent under her at an awkward angle. Parcels scattered everywhere, and she became instantly aware of a ragged pain racing up her body from the pinned ankle.

"No!" she groaned bewteen clinched teeth. "No, no, no..."

[Nurumaiel]

Ruddyn gave Léspheria a little bow. "It is my pleasure to help, m'lady," he said. "And I would like to comment on your thoughtfulness to help those of the inn when they are already being overworked by the numerous amount of guests here." Léspheria, being an Elf, could not help but notice the different meaning in his speech as he mentioned the guests.

"Perhaps you and your sister would like a room where you can speak without fear of being overheard?" she asked as delicately as she could.

Ruddyn laughed and grasped her hand in a friendly, thanking matter. "You are too kind for words, m'lady," he said. "But no, I feel that we shall be quite content to speak here, as long as we can find some quiet corner to sit." He quick eyes observed one or two, though it seemed most of them were already taken by those who wished to be in silence. He turned back and saw that Fendadia was asking him a silent question with her eyes. He gave a little nod and pointed with his own eyes towards a table unoccupied with hardly anyone sitting near it. The one problem was that it was right next to the counter, but Ruddyn did not consider the staff of the inn as gossipy.

He told her in the silent way they had learned to understand, by making movements with his hands and letting his thoughts show through his eyes. Fendadia nodded, but spoke softly, "Being near the counter, many will come to order rooms, drinks, and meals."

"We will handle that when it comes to it," said Ruddyn in reply. He turned back to Léspheria with a word of apology, and then began his order. "I would like just a simple ale," he said. He glanced quickly at Fendadia.

"Brother, you act as though you fear I am too young to drink ale," she said with a merry laugh. "An ale for me as well, Lady Léspheria."

[Snowdog]

As a warm mug of morning brew was handed to Silvanis, he slid a coin across the bar to pay for it, and he turned to look about the common room for Vanwe. Not seeing her, but instead noticing a young dark-haired girl sitting alone at a table, seemingly eying everyone and seeming unsure of all the armed folk. Silvanis brushed back his dark, greying locks and sipped some coffee when the woman of the south came in with an armload of boxes. Surely she noted little in the darkness, and as she made way for the stairs, a cry and noise went up...

...the boxes went all over, and everyone turned to the commotion, and the woman was on the floor writhing in pain and saying something un-intelligible. Silvanis instinctivly left the bar and was there, seeing if she was alright after such a twisting fall. Seeing her weight bent back her leg, he lifted her off her leg to see if she could straighten it. Silvanis said to her,

'With one filled with such grace as to dance, You need to be much more careful.'

He went to look at her ankle but she jerked it away. He looked at her again and said,

'I just wish to see if you broke it m'lady. Fear me not.'

His blue-grey eyes locked with hers for a moment as he could see much pain and also doubt...

[piosenniel]

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ [img]smilies/smile.gif[/img] NOTICE OF NEW GAME OPENING [img]smilies/smile.gif[/img] ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Manardariel, Sophia the Thunder Mistress, and Nurumaiel invite you to look at their new RPG:

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Corsairs and Corsets ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~.

~*~*~*~*~ Discussion Thread is now open to take on players. ~*~*~*~*~

Please read this Discussion Thread thoroughly; develop an interesting character to play from the “Characters Needed” list; and then write a First Post for your character, to be submitted with the Character Description. Here it is!

[Enif]

When Enif woke up it was already late in the morning. She had spent the night in a shelter buy the road, fortunately the weather was good that night. Now the sun had already risen , the day was hot and a mild breeze blew on her face. Though it was a sunny day, there wasn’t enough sun to light her face beneath her dark and weathered hood and cloak, she was exhausted and she carried the marks of a long and dangerous journey.
The sight of that friendly inn lifted her heart a bit and a slight grin filled her face. Once she stepped in, the talking and laughing filled her ears and now she smiled openly, it almost sounded like music to her. Nobody seemed to have noticed her. Enif threw back her hood revealing her long black silky hair, her skin darkened by the sun, her shy black eyes. Finally, she walked across the room and sit on an empty table, it was then when some noticed her presence she answered the inquisitive glances with a grin. A few minutes latter the maid came up to her table:

“So, what will it be?” Asked the maid smiling.
“A sip of ale would be nice.” She answered also smiling.

And the maid walked away…
Enif looked around still a little nervous...

[ June 16, 2003: Message edited by: Enif ]

[Horse-Maiden of the Shire]

"Run away?" Aleia tsked. "That just won't do. When you run away (or decide to be a traveller), you get into the most awkward situations. Like being caught sleeping in a farmer's field and having to gallop off half-asleep."

Madea giggled and said, "Sometimes you must do these things. Your name?"

"Ah, yes. I am Aleia Took, hailing from Tookland, from our fair Shire. I chose to be a traveller when I was younger," she said, pausing to chuckle reminiscently. "Not exactly the smartest thing to do. I went out into the world without the slightest idea of what it would be like. Looking back on it, I should have asked my cousin Peregrin for pointers. Unfortunately, I was stubborn and thought naught of it. I got into many a scrape before I thought of arming myself," here she revealed her bow and quiver full of arrows. "I have spent only a few years as a traveller, but I learned a lot."

"However, that is quite enough about me to last for a while. What of you, Madea?"

[Tinuviel of Denton]

"I'm very sorry to ask you to repeat yourself, but I have forgotten the question you asked me earlier."

Niniel laughed a bit at that. Her thoughts had been wandering, daydreaming. "Well, so--so have I. I--I haven't been pay--paying much atten--attention." She blushed a little, and looked away from Soronume, who didn't seem to notice.

Mardath laughed heartily. "An' we all of us ken why, don't we, lass?" Soronume rolled his eyes and started to say something, then thought better of it, as it wasn't in keeping with good manners.

[piosenniel]

Notice of time inching ahead in the Inn:

This Inn-day started on June 7th. It is now June 16th, and the Inn is still in the morning hours.

Can everyone who needs to do a post concerned with "today's" morning activities please get it in before tomorrow evening, June 17th.

I will then move the timeline in the Inn ahead to the afternoon hours.

Thanks!

Piosenniel, Shire Moderator

[ June 16, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Ealasaid]

Tears of pain welled up in Benia's amber eyes as she straightened her skirts and tried to move her leg. A fresh arc of pain shot through her limb, forcing her to abandon the attempt. She muttered a phrase of frustration and anger in her desert dialect and slapped a hand down hard on the nearest of her scattered parcels. It couldn't be happening! Not now. Not when it was so important for her to be mobile. She tried again at moving her injured leg.

Just then, two strong hands took hold of her shoulders and lifted her off the leg, setting her back down again more comfortably on the floor. She looked up in horror, half-expecting to see the hooded man from the courtyard. To her surprise, her eyes landed instead on the face of the Man in the Doorway, as she had come to think of him, the Ranger she had suspected of slipping her the red stone.

"With one filled with such grace as to dance, you need to be much more careful," his deep voice chided her.

Gently, he took hold of her ankle.

Nervously, Benia tried to jerk it away, which only brought a new jolt of pain and fresh tears to her eyes.

"I just wish to see if you broke it, m'lady. Fear me not," he told her, still speaking softly to her as though she were a child or a frightened mare. She looked up at him and, for an instant, his blue-gray eyes and her amber ones locked. Instinctively, she relaxed.

"There was something on the stairs," she murmurred. "I lost my footing."

The Ranger nodded. "We'll have to get this boot off. Can you help me, m'lady?"

Benia flushed crimson, but nodded. It was hardly seemly to be sitting there on the floor with a strange man pulling her boot off, but she knew he was right. The boot had to come off. She grit her teeth, determined not to whimper or cry out. It was painful, but between the two of them, they finally manged to work the boot off without cutting the leather. The ankle had already swollen to a tremendous size and had gone a deep shade of violet.

For a moment, the Ranger gently prodded the soft tissue of her ankle, before shaking his head. "I'm sorry, m'lady. It appears to be broken. We should send for a doctor."

"No doctor," Benia said softly. Doctors were expensive. She had just spent the majority of her remaining money on provisions for a journey that would now not be taking place. She didn't know whether to be angry or relieved about that part of it, but she knew that if she wanted to keep a roof over her head, a doctor was out of the question.

She looked up again into the Ranger's blue-gray eyes. "But I forget myself. You have been so kind. The least I can do is introduce myself. My name is Benia Nightshade. I am forever in your debt, kind sir." She smiled and raised a hand to wipe a tear of pain from the corner of her eye before it broke free and ran down her cheek in a streak of black kohl.

[Elora]

The arrival of Derufin gave Vanwe the idea that perhaps she could be spared long enough to catch some of the morning. She missed the sky.

"Aman, I think we need more dust cloths. These have seen hard service already. I shall fetch them," she added as Aman made a move towards the door herself.

With a glance in the direction of the swarming hobbits, Vanwe added with a small smile, "I doubt I am any match for their enthusiasm should they espy what we have here."

The Elf gestured at the piles yet to be sorted, and with a wry grin excused herself. She paused to give a smile to Derufin, who seemed much improved. He was not green, for instance. The wooden crane was still tucked behind her belt, she discovered as she patted it to be sure. Perhaps, if he continued to feel better it would not be too dangerous to give it to him if she did not make too much of a nuisance of herself in other ways.

Anticipation of the summer blue sky carried her down stairs and into the crush of the commonroom. Vanwe darted through the crowd and emerged through the door rubbing her hands on her dirty skirts, oblivious for the most to those she passed in the popular inn and determinedly making her way to the door.

She gained that with a small sigh of relief that stopped on her lips as she saw Benia sitting on the outter steps, Silvanis with her and the two in close conversation. Vanwe froze where she was, unsure of whether to proceed or otherwise. Instinct made her scan the yard beyond the pair. No Haradian mercenaries stood with rope and chain in hand.

Vanwe reluctantly stepped forward, knowing that she would need space to escape should she need to. Such could not be found within the doorway or crowded commonroom. Silvanis looked up as she moved, and Vanwe heard Benia insist, "No doctor!"

Closer inspection revealed the Southern woman had lost her boot, and Silvanis's hands were occupied with her ankle. Vanwe had seen enough broken ankles to recognise the injury swiftly. This was either an elaborate ruse or genuine. Vanwe had not heard of any mercenary willing to break an ankle, or work with another for that matter.

On light feet, rubbing her hands free of dust on her skirts, Vanwe crossed and warily bowed. Not entirely sure what had prompted her to do this, Vanwe found herself offering assistance.

"It is broken," she observed to which both Silvais and Benia nodded in confirmation.

"Your ankle cannot be left like that... I may be able to help, though I am no doctor. We must act swiftly, before the shock of numbness wears off."

Vanwe spread her hands, stretching long fingers that seemed happiest when occupied. Ailments and injuries had been the one of the few ways Vanwe had managed to keep her hide in one piece, even if she was suspected of bringing such misfortunes upon the villagers she would tend to. She had not the skill of a doctor, but she had a light and firm touch, and an innate sense for the rightness of things, such as how a bone should be set, a poultice blended, a piece of wood worked.

Aware that she could very likely be aiding people who may yet undo her, Vanwe stood on the stairs at a loss as to why she was even there, and mind working as to where she could locate the necessary items to see to the broken ankle.

She breathed the scent of the morning in, watching the day unfold around her. Conscious of those who she had left waiting turned and headed back for the inn, detouring to wash face and hands free of smeared dust. Vanwe was still shaking small droplets of water free as she walked back through the door. Pre-occupied with the growing number of horses needing tending, she made for the bar. That was where the store of rags was kept.

Vanwe was good at being unnoticeable. She slipped through to the end, ducked beneath the counter and extracted a few more rags. It was not until she had stood, still folding a final cloth that she realised Benia and Silvanis were nearby, together.

Vanwe stilled for a moment, eyes going wide in an instant as speculation flashed through them. She hesitated an instant longer and took the two in. Benia appeared injured

[Hilde Bracegirdle]

Finally extricating herself from her neighbor Mytle’s long and rather tedious discourse on Carl’s and the children’s activities at home, Gilly gained the door. She had assumed that Benia would make her way to her rooms in order to evade the newly arrived Ranger she had seen in the yard. Following this line of reasoning, the petite hobbit wasted no time in the commons room, but made her way blindly through; eyes slowly adjusting as she went.

Nearing the turn by the stair and catching sight of the hem of Benia’s skirts and one of her boots, empty. She stopped short of the corner. On the opposite wall, towering over the faint shadow of her friend was another shadow. Gilly quickly began searching the packages that she was still carrying for something that could be used to fend off an attack. Settling on a cast ladle she quietly drew closer, not even noticing the wet floor on her bare feet.

“I just wish to see if you broke it m'lady. Fear me not,” a man was saying as he tired to examine Benia’s ankle.

Gilly relaxed her grip, sighing with relief that the ladle was not immediately needed.

Aware of someone behind him Silvanis glanced over his shoulder at the hobbit. “Your friend has taken a fall it seems, but I cannot persuade her to let me send for a doctor.”

"It is broken," observed Vanwe as she approached. "Your ankle cannot be left like that...I amy be able to help, though I am no doctor. We must act swiftly, before the shock of numbness wears off."

A slight pang went though Gilly as she recognized Silvanius from Benia’s first day at the inn. But feeling a rather desperate need to get Benia off the floor and out of the hallway without drawing the attention of the other guests, Gilly replied, “Perhaps she would feel more at ease in her own rooms. Could you kindly help us?”

She hoped that she wouldn’t, but catching Benia glance she was already regretting the request.

[ June 17, 2003: Message edited by: Hilde Bracegirdle ]

[Ealasaid]

Upon entering the stableyard, Kaldir found the stables full and the stableman absent. He dismounted anyway and tied his horse to a hitching post in the yard. Such a full stable boded a full inn, which meant the likelihood of his getting a room would be slim. Well, that was okay, too. He would have liked a little privacy, but he had slept in worse places than a common room or a hayloft. He took the rope off of his saddle horn and, after widening the loop of it, slung it across his broad shoulder. One could never be too sure when opportunity might present itself again. He walked across the yard and entered the inn.

His eyes adjusted quickly to the muted light inside. Directly ahead of him lay the bar, where an elven lady was serving drinks. Kaldir moved in that direction.

He pushed his cloak back over his shoulders and lowered his hood, revealing a darkly tanned face that few forgot once they had seen it. The right side was ruggedly handsome with a high cheekbone, straight nose, and a strong brow. The left side had been horribly disfigured: the cheekbone smashed, and the skin a gnarled floret of scar tissue from his hairline to the point where the skin disappeared beneath his short brown beard. Icy blue eyes peered out from between dark lashes, with irises so pale that they nearly vanished into the whites. He leaned across the bar toward the elven lady.

"Excuse me, mistress," he said politely. "Could you direct me to the innkeeper?"

Lespheria looked up with a smile on her face that only faltered for an instant at the initial sight of him. She nodded toward the kitchen, gamely finishing her smile. "You will find her in there, sir, if you can make your way through the mob."

His pale eyes followed her nod. There was indeed a small mob of hobbits gathered around the entrance to the kitchen.

"Mathom," the elven lady informed him with a wink.

"Ah!" Kaldir smiled with the good half of his face. "Perhaps you could help me instead. I am hoping to find lodgings."

"Lodgings," echoed the elven lady. "Then you will have to speak to Aman. We are quite full at the moment."

"Then I shall wait," he said amiably. He pushed a coin across the counter. "An ale, please."

Once he had received the ale, Kaldir turned his attention toward the common room, surveying the other occupants with his eyes. Most seemed comfortable with themselves and their surroundings, but others seemed rather skittish to his practiced gaze. He would have to remember the skittish ones, he told himself. They could be of interest later. Continuing his visual tour of the room, he found the Desert Lady, the one he had almost managed to capture in the courtyard, sitting on the floor at the base of the stairs in a litter of scattered packages with a Ranger holding her foot. The hobbit lady from the courtyard was there as well, looking on anxiously.

She must have fallen, thought Kaldir. So much the better. Now she can't run away. A cold smile danced at the back of his eyes.

[Snowdog]

'Aye, its best we get you comfortable miss Benia Nightshade, and maybe between Vanwe and my own methods, and some assist from the hobbit-lass we can set this before too long. Know it will be painful.'

The door slid open and then shut, letting the bright morning light for a moment illuminate the common room. Silvanis paused for a moment to eye the hooded one that walked in. A seeming aire of familiarity passed by him as he walked, but as the man went to the bar and his hood fell back, that aire passed. Maybe a familiar stride from long past, or a stranger seen in an inn somewhere thought Silvanis as he turned his attention back to Benia. But the rough face did not awaken much memory.

'Now hold strong Miss as we will have you off this floor in a passing of a breeze.'

Silvanis with his knees bent slid his hands under Benia's back and behind her knees, and though as he stood with her in his arms caused her to wince in pain, he gave her a re-assuring glance with his eyes as she looked at him, but his glance for a brief moment turned to the one who entered as he sipped his ale and Silvanis noted again a familiarity as he watched them. No matter, Benia needed tending so he turned and said to Gilly as he held the woman,

'Lead the way lass.'

and Vanwe stood to follow, she too noticing the one who entered.

'Worry not of your scattered wares m'lady, for they will be gathered and kept safe.'

Gilly led him up the stairs that caused Benia so much trouble, he being careful not to let her swelling foot bump the wall or beam. Gilly opened a door and with quick but subtle steps, Silvanis lay Benia gently down upon the mat.

'My ways of setting are crude but effective, but I will hope Vanwe has a gentler way that will get you healed?'

Silvanis looked again at the ankle, but was heartened that Benia could move her toes. Maybe it isn't as bad as first believed? Silvanis checked to see if he had any healing herbs but realized they were on Blackveil outside, for he had prepared to leave before re- entering the Inn for the coffee. He looked at Vanwe and asked,

'What is it you require to ease this m'lady?'

[ June 16, 2003: Message edited by: Snowdog ]

[Envinyatar]

Derufin sidled away from the busy group and into the relative safety of the kitchen. He had only come in to get a jug of Cook’s cool mint tea and another dose of willow bark powder for his headache.

‘Don’t you go taking this yet,’ Cook instructed him, handing him the twist of parchment that held the powder. ‘Not good for you to have one dose right on top of another. You did the drinking, now you’ll just have to suffer the consequences.’

He wiped the grin from his face at her motherly admonishment, and nodded his head in what he hoped was a suitably chagrined manner. Cook, however, was not deceived by this change of expression, and proceeded to lecture him on the evils of overindulgence in spirits. To his good sense he did not laugh as the diminutive Hobbit wagged a crooked finger under his nose, and fixed him with her steely stare. Her brown curls, flecked with some gray, bounced this way and that as she ticked off points for him on her fingers, emphasizing each one with a shake of her head.

She had just worked her way to number six of her list of ‘And don’t you ever let me catch you . . . .’s, holding her left thumb up to keep count, when his resolve broke and he could no longer hold back. Bending down, he kissed the crown of her head, mashing her curls with his exuberant action.

Eyes wide she drew back from him, stuttering. ‘Now what in the Westfarthing was that all about, you blunderheaded Big Folk?!’ she blurted out.

‘You sounded just like my mother, the first time my brother and I got into Da’s home brewed mead. I simply couldn’t resist.’

Derufin grinned and bowed slightly to the disconcerted Hobbit. He bent down further, and gave her a peck on the cheek and a wink to follow. ‘I’m taking Falmar down to the Pool, away from the noise and bother of the Inn for a while. Vanwe can see to any horses that come in. Won’t be back ‘til late this evening. I have some personal business to take care of.’

Pocketing the twist of powder, he walked out the back door, the flask of tea in hand. He whistled for the horse, and mounting her in a still clumsy manner, rode out the gate and down the path . . .

[Everdawn]

Madea gulped. "Me?... uh.. well, My father, you see... He is a Dol Amroth General, and, my mother died when she was having me. I never knew her you see..." She paused, thinking.

"Anyway, my father, was very dissappointed that I was not born male, and blamed me all my life for taking my mother away. He never deems me fit to even have a decent conversation. I did grow up having the best of everything, but my father never saw me fit to even pick up a sword. I could never go anywhere without an escort, and now! Now he wants to marry me off to one of the guards, who i have never met! And i am only 16! although i am now closer to seventeen, but that still does not mean i cant make decisions for myself!"

Madea had said all this too fast and took a breath. "Thats when i decided enough was enough. I ran away, i took what money i could from my house and have been on the road ever since, I do realise it was dangerous, since i rode unarmed. The folk i met were very nice to me."

Her dark eyes glinted. "I do so love the Shire, tell me more about it Ms Took."

Aleia smiled at her. "Not at all miss, call me Aleia, there is no need for such fomalities here, you are among friends now."

Madea nodded, "yes, yes of course. I have never really had many friends you know."

[Nerindel]

"I would like just a simple ale,"

"Brother, you act as though you fear I am too young to drink ale,"

"An ale for me as well, Lady Léspheria."

Léspheria poured the ales and gently pushed them across the bar to Ruddyn and Fendadia. Léspheria chuckled as the young woman took her ale and removed herself to a table close to the bar leaving her brother to pay for their drinks, she often did the same thing to her own brother. Ruddyn clearly like her own bother was used to it and didn't mind in the slightest, he dug in his pouch for the right coinage and held them out to her, as she took them he nodded his thanks then went to join his sister at their table.

Léspheria opened the wooden draw under the bar and put the coins inside. As she closed the draw and rised her head she saw a rather weather beaten, shy young woman enter the inn and taking an empty seat. "So, what will it be?" she smiled walking towards the woman. "A sip of ale would be nice." she replied, her smile lit up her rather exhausted looking features. She walked back to the bar to get the womans drink.

But before she could pour the ale another spoke to her..."Excuse me, mistress, could you direct me to the innkeeper?" She looked up with a smile on her face that only faltered for an instant at the sight of his horribly disfigured left features. She nodded towards the kitchen, gamely finnishing her smile. "You will find her in there, sir, if you can make your way through the mob." she nodded to a door surrounded by a small mob of hobbits that where clambering trying to get a glimpse of what wonders were inside.

"Mathoms," she winked at the confused man before her.

"Ah!" he smiled with the good half of his face. "Perhaps you could help me instead. I am hoping to find lodgings."

"Lodgings," she echoed "Then you will have to speak with Aman. We are quite Full at the moment."

"Then I shall wait," he replied amiably. He then pushed a coin across the counter and ordered an ale, "Ah! that I can help you with!" she smiled. She poured the rangers drink and set it before him. Once receiving his ale he turned his attention toward the busy common room.

Léspheria remembering her other guest drew another ale and walk over to the young womans table, she gently set the drink before the dark haired woman. "It is a beautiful morning is it not?" she ask hoping to elevated Enif's nervousness....

[spirit_detective]

Aranti had watched the man carry the young girl who had fallen upstairs. Silently she made her way after them.

"What can I do to help?" The two jumped at Aranti's voice. Not waiting for an answer, she knelt next to the bed and took a hold of the girl's foot.

"What is your name?" The girl bit back a cry and answered softly.

"Benia," she whispered. Aranti expertly examined the foot. Then, she took out a bottle of something and poured it onto a cloth. She wrapped it around the foot and Benia's face showed a sign of relief as the pain began to pass.

Aranti stood and headed for the door. In midstep, she turned and pointed a finger at Benia, her face showing no expression.

"Next time, be more careful."

Downstairs, she once again took out her sword and placed it in the bare space in front of her. She sipped her tea quietly glaring out from underneath the fiery strands that hung down in her face.

She should have relaxed since this was, after all, very safe compared to the wilds. Still, she couldn't help but being tense.

[piosenniel]

Two Game Discussion Threads are still taking on Characters.

A House Divided, owned by Sophia the Thunder Mistress could use another applicant for the position of aide to King Tarannon Falastur, the husband of Beruthiel and her 9 Cats.

Corsairs and Corsets, owned by a trio of Shire writers needs a number of court people to fill their ranks.

Please check both these Games out and see if you can craft a good character and First Post for them.

~~ Pio, Shire Mod

[Hilde Bracegirdle]

Once Benia was brought safely to her parlor, the ranger Silvanis turned to Vanwe, asking her what might required to ease Benia’s discomfort. While Vanwe paused in thought, Gilly excused herself to collect the rest of Benia’s things that were still strewn about the bottom of the stairs.

“Lass, indeed!” She muttered as she went. “As if I were a child, frolicking around the Shire, and without a care.”

The hobbit was deeply thankful to Silvanis, but was having a great deal of trouble reconciling it with her long held mistrust of Rangers. Old prejudices were still rooted in her psyche despite the many revelations brought to light after The War.

It doesn’t hurt to keep your eyes open , she thought as she stooped to pick. up the dried fruit and other items lying on the floor.

Suddenly, remembering the second Ranger, the one from the yard, Gilly looked up toward the commons room. There across the room sat the heavily scarred man sipping at a tankard and watching her. As she caught his glance he raised his tankard to her and then fluidly averted his glaze to a small group of animated guests near the door.

Amorthia bit her lip, telling herself not to be so timid as she entered the inn. But the thought of how this was her first time out of Gondor sent a rush of adrenaline through her veins.

She wove her way to an unoccupied table, and sat as gracefully as she could on the worn wooden bench. Removing her pack, Amorthia wound her fingers into the leather straps, trying to keep them from trembeling. She looked up, and tried to sort people out in the half light.

Walking into the inn Caseus glanced around for his friend. His brown cloak moving back and forth as he trotted to the bar. Grabbing two ales he continued his search for his friend. "Ah, Delian, what a surprise. What brings you here my friend?"

"Someone, I am told, was going to bring me a message from Sarrenor. Are you the one he sent?"

"No, I bring you no such message, I only stopped here because I saw your horse. That and ale are my reasons for being here."

"You forget, my friend, that I hate horses and will only ride in the most desperate situations. No, I brought no horse, but someone else's horse whom you recognize may be outside."

"So someone else is here that I know. Maybe Halenth's horse is here, and he may be the one who brings this message you speak of. But we must wait to see what the afternoon will bring."

[ June 17, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Annalaliath]

Annalaliath was sitting in the common room as Morwyn walked in. Her eyes felt puffy and dry, and she was very glum. She was resting her chin on her folded arm as she drew with the other. The drawing was nothing really , just the lines and marks that she made when she was not thinking. The gif of laughter was not doing anything that was cheerful this morning. She was angry and wanted everyone to know it. She was angry at herself, at the stranger that had stumbled upon her and Morwyn and finally at the creator for creating her. She wondered why he would do such a thing, why he would allow her to be so "weird" as other called it. She was pondering these things when Morwyn came into the room.

Nahi had all but disappeared and Annalaliath wondered where she had gone. How her and Celecu were doing. If they were even still in the Shire. A funny thought passed her buzzing and clumsy brain, maybe they went to find a magistrate, or what ever you would can them here. Someone to marry them. She pounded the paper with her pin leaving wholes and ink spots where she had done so.

“Why am I acting like this,” she wondered out loud.

[Mithadan]

A rider, wearing the livery of Gondor, entered The Green Dragon, bearing a scroll. He proceeded to the Innkeeper and bowed low before presenting her with the tube. In it were two pieces of vellum. The first read as follows:

My lady, its been some time and that's certain. Yet I've not forgotten you or your fine establishment. When I can, I will visit. But I write today of more important matters. I received the attached today and thought you should see it and perhaps pass it on. Regards, X.

On the second piece of vellum was the following:

The New Rules of Gondor Have Been Posted in Ecthelion's Tower

[Ealasaid]

Gilly led the way to Benia's rooms, as the Ranger followed close behind with Benia in his arms. Once inside the sitting room, he laid Benia gently on the mat.

"My ways of setting are crude but effective," he said. "But Vanwe has a gentler way that will get you healed."

He examined Benia's ankle once more before turning to the elflady who had followed them up the stairs. Benia recognized her from their earlier encounter in the kitchen. Oddly, the elflady had also been the first to assist Benia on the stairs after the Ranger. Vanwe, is it? Benia remarked to herself, casting her a hopeful glance. She had heard great things about the healing abilities of elves. Maybe this lady could help her, maybe not, but either way, Benia was pleased to see her. Perhaps now the elflady had gotten over her fears of Benia.

"What is it that you require to ease this. m'lady?" the Ranger asked Vanwe. Silently, Gilly slipped out of the room to collect Benia's scattered parcels at the bottom of the stairs.

Before Vanwe had a chance to answer, a rather sour-looking young woman stomped into the room, pushing past both the Ranger and Vanwe, without so much as a good afternoon or a by-your-leave. She was a good deal younger than Benia, yet she marched up to her as though she were a sulky child. She took hold of Benia's ankle and, in the process of examining it, gave it a slight twist which caused the rough edges of the bones to grind together. Benia bit back a cry of anguish.

"What is your name?" demanded the girl.

"Benia," Benia managed to choke out through a cloud of pain. The girl didn't answer, but took out a bottle of something, poured it on a cloth, then wrapped the cloth around Benia's ankle. When she let go of Benia's ankle, Benia's face showed a visible sign of relief. At least, the stranger would not be twisting it anymore.

The girl stood and headed for the door, but stopped halfway there. She turned and pointed an imperative finger at Benia. "Next time, be more careful," she ordered. With that, she left, passing Gilly on the way out. Benia, Gilly, Vanwe, and the Ranger each looked at each other from face to face, not sure what to make of the intrusion. Benia's ankle certainly did not feel any better, although the girl had seemed confident that what she had done had helped.

"Well, that was rather rude," Gilly said softly, having come in right about the time when the girl had pointed her finger at Benia. "Don't they teach manners where she comes from?"

Looking down at her ankle, Benia laughed nervously. "I wonder what that was she put on to the cloth. When I was little, my father used to always say rub a little dirt on it. You'll be fine. He was joking, of course."

"But does the ankle feel any better?" asked the Ranger.

"Not really," answered Benia. "I am still waiting to see what Miss Vanwe is capable of." She turned her eyes toward the young elflady, who still looked a bit skittish, but pleased to be of assistance.

[ June 17, 2003: Message edited by: Ealasaid ]

[Horse-Maiden of the Shire]

Aleia smiled. "Well, you see, the Shire is quite simple. We eat, we sleep, we garden, and we have the occasional party or two. At our birthday parties, it is not uncommon for the birthday-hobbit to give out presents to the guests. Not large, garish presents, but small trinkets that are charming to have on a mantlepiece."

"If you are not yet bored by my efforts, I shall tell you of my family, as you have told me of yours. I come from a relatively small family, what with my father Meilo Took and my mother Jasmine Burrows having only three children: myself, my sister Abbigale, and my brother Meibo. We were not wealthy and we were not hard off--we were in the middle. Two years ago, my mother passed away and that is when I decided I was tired of the conventional hobbit life and that I wanted to become a traveller."

At this point Aleia got a far-off look in her eyes, of old anger and pain.

"I had seen what traditional life did to you. You became predictable, blended in, became one of the crowd. I didn't want that. I guess you could say I was a rebel. I wanted to be unique. I wanted to have my own personality. I told my father that I wanted to become a traveller and go all over Middle-earth. He was sullen and tight-lipped after I told him this, and he quietly asked me why I would want to do this. I was the youngest of my siblings, and they wanted to do no such thing. They wanted to be like everyone else and stay at home in the Shire."

"I continued to tell my father that no matter what he did, I would eventually go off on my own. If I had to run away, I would go. Finally, though it was in reluctance, he agreed to let me go and not to disband me from our family. I wasted no time in getting myself ready. I took my favourite pony, Skeet, and a few provisions and a bit of money. This was when my mistakes began."

Aleia shook her head suddenly, as if clearing away sleep, and laughed. "That is probably my darkest tale as of yet. The others are humourous. Would you care to hear one?" Madea nodded vigourously. "All right then. One day, I was riding about near Esgaroth (where I was going to pick up provisions, as I was tiring of wild meat)..."


"...and then I found out that it had been a young girl all the time! It made me feel like such a fool and I left as quickly as possible," finished Aleia. She laughed with Madea as she remembered her adventure at Esgaroth.

"So, Madea...what have your travels brought you to find?" she asked, leaning back in her chair.

[ June 17, 2003: Message edited by: Horse-Maiden of the Shire ]

[spirit_detective]

Aranti set her empty cup on the table. She had known, the medicine was not supposed to ease the pain, but to help the bones grow back together. Her arms dragged across the wooden edge, causing her to flinch. She pulled back one her black sleeves, revealing her arm to be bandaged up to the elbow.

She tore at the edges, exposing slits in near her wrist. She put a slightly glowing finger to it and the pain subsided. Which reminded her that she had not done such a thing for Benia.

"But there is another of my kind up there, she will tend to that." Aranti said with a grin. She brushed her hair back revealing her pointed ears. She leaned back and put her hands behind her head.

"Can I get you anything?" Aranti opened an eye. Yet another maid stood before the elven Ranger.

"I'm fine thankyou," she answered almost whispering. She once again closed her eyes. A mixed looked of both sadness and thoughtfulness crossed her features.

A short while after Caseus had left Delian alone at his table a hobbit walked over and sat down with his ale. "Good afternoon, Sir. Welcome to the Green Dragon. Are you new in the Shire? Just passin through? What's your name might I ask? My name's Drogo Halmor, nice to meet you. Do you want an ale?"

A little suprised by the talkative young hobbit the man sat there with a blank stare for a few seconds before responding. "Hold on there young master. One question at a time is normal in the Shire is it not?"

A little taken back by the man's comment and a little confused (he had expected his questions answered first) he stuttered back, "We... well yes, b... but don't most men answer questions before handing out new ones?" He grinned at his comeback in the way a child would at outsmarting an adult.

"Very well short master. My name is Delian son of Sallesar, I am just passing through, this is not my first time in the Shire but I am not farmilliar with this region. As for the ale I drink beer unless ale is served." he said pointing to the empty ale mug next to the hobbit's foot, which had comfortly lain on the table scince the start of the conversasion. "Now I have some questions for you Drogo." continued the man, "Why do I interrest you so much when there are many tall folk in the inn at this time? Are you the messenger? And would you like me to get our drinks?"

"There you go askin more than one question at a time. So if we aren't being exactly proper I'll answer your questions out of order. First off I ain't know of any messages. Next it'd be mighty kind of you to get the drinks for us, ale for me, beer for you. Lastly I'm only interrested in you because you sat over here for a mighty long time without doin much at all, no talkin, no orderin drinks, no nuthin." replied the short hobbit as he called someone over. "Halenth, is this the man you were lookin for?"

"Yes, thank you my dear hobbit friend" said the tall shabby man who had approached the table (apparently a ranger for few wear grey who are not). "Hello Delian." he said after a moment or two of speachlessness. "Most of us thought you were dead seeing as we haven't seen you for some years. Then I was told that the 'one who didn't belong' needed to be contacted I couldn't believe it. When Sarrenor needed a deliverer I spoke up for the job. All he gave me was this and his best wishes to us both." said Halenth still recovering from the shock of seeing someone he had long thought dead. He drank Drogo's ale, refunded the hobbit, and pulled a small peice of paper from his sack. "I and some of the other rangers, even though you aren't quite one of us, are willing to help you if you get into any kind of a jam. Also, before I leave, I'd be quite happy if you would come visit us some time." the ranger thanked the hobbit for his help and left the Dragon.

[ June 17, 2003: Message edited by: Delian ]

[Elora]

Benia, Gilly and Silvanis all awaited her. Vanwe was awash in uncertainty which simmered beneath her expression. Healing, or Elvish hell-spawned sorcery as the villagers chose to call it, was not something she had openly admitted to. Yet they all turned expectant faces to her as though they knew she could. The villagers had known too. They had tried to erase it, but they could no more erase her race than they could the gifts she had inherited. The same abilities that her mother had honed to a sharp and wicked edge with which to wreak such evil and pain, Vanwe possessed in her own way.

She was no Elven healer. She had never been taught and had not dared flaunt or explore her abilities. They had enough reasons to torment her without adding that fuel to the fire. Benia, Silvanis and Gilly willed her on. Vanwe took a breath to steel herself and stepped forward to gingerly remove the cloth that Aranti had boldly slapped into place.

Benia's pain ebbed in waves that Vanwe could sense. She examined the cloth, and unsure what exactly had been poured onto it or why, set it aside for the moment. Vanwe trusted her hands more than a stranger. Gently, her fingers moved over Benia's ankle to which Vanwe bent towards as she sensed out what lay beneath the swollen skin.

Both from what her fingers were able to learn and from what she sensed of Benia's pain, Vanwe was able to piece together a clearer picture of the injury.

"It is not as I had thought," she murmured softly, lost in what was at hand. In a louder voice, Vanwe added "It is not a break... a fracture perhaps..."

Her fingers explored a little further.

"I have seen this before... The bone does not scream of a break, but something is wrong nonetheless. Benia is fortunate that the fracture has not been worsened by the recent sudden movement."

An expression of utter disapproval so strong as to flash in her blue eyes crossed Vanwe's face before it relapsed into it's earlier expression of utter serene focus. The jolt of the movement to inspect and then place that cloth over it could have made a fracture a break.

Benia all this while did a remarkable feat of attempting to master the pain that was rolling through her, pushing Vanwe onwards.

"But first your ankle must be prepared, my Lady." Vanwe knelt on the floor and again gently wrapped her hands around Benia's ankle. The shock was all but gone, as was the attendant numbness. She resumed sensing out the wrongness and sought a memory within bone, muscle, tissue for how it should be. Living things remembered. Benia's pain rolled and swayed in the room around them, heat suffused Vanwe. Still her fingers gently moved.

Vanwe absorbed herself in the healing. She had no words to describe how she did what she did. Maybe it was foul sorcery. Vanwe did not know. It was simply making the ankle right again, as the bone and muscles remembered it to be.

How much time passed Vanwe could not tell. When the heat that had built beneath her skin, particularly in her hands, started to fade, she set Benia's ankle gently down once more. Vanwe blinked, drew a breath and sensed that the pain that radiated from Benia was different now. It was not wrong. It too would fade, particularly with the herbs and strapping to aid it.

Vanwe looked up to Benia and nodded.

"Your ankle will mend well, my lady," she said with a sense of gravity which was in odd contrast to the sense of lightness that spun in Vanwe's head. It had been some time since she last healed, and it was something she had not been able to openly learn and explore in the village. Healing in such a way was another suspicion to sit over her head, and the ability was something Vanwe well hid behind more accepted means of treatment. Better a poultice than the corruption of Elvish sorcery.

All Vanwe could hope was that Benia did not carry with her the superstitions of the village, or did not care so long as her ankle was healed. But, if she did object, then Benia was even more of a danger. Vanwe sat still, waiting for the lightheaded sensation to pass, studying Benia. Was she foe? Was she in league with mercenaries?

Vanwe's gaze dropped to Benia's hands as her mind lurched sickeningly. She noted the intricate and beautiful tattoos that traced over Benia's skin. Her own were unadorned. No village advertised or claimed her. Vanwe did not know whether she had revealed herself further to a friend or foe, but could not and would not undo what was done. There was too little kindness in the world she well knew, and if she was to return to that hell at least she knew she could do more with her hands than labour or carve.

Conscious that Gilly and Silvanis watched on, Vanwe found her voice.

"I have seen this at ho-, before," Vanwe stumbled over her correction. "We will need to strap Benia's ankle and keep weight off it until the bone can strengthen. Some herbs will help with the pain as the bone and muscles settle more firmly into place. There are many infusions and teas that can be easily made."

Vanwe had not forgotten who had entered the inn, nor the possible danger of Benia, nor the rashness of her recent act. Yet it was done. Vanwe's decision, though likely not the wisest one for continued freedom, was made. Vanwe listed a range of possible herbs, known for their wholesome properties, as she discussed the matter with Silvanis and Gilly.

Silvanis had his own store, Vanwe herself had observed some yesterday in her afternoon spent exploring the surrounds of the inn. Gilly proved quite knowledgeable also.

"I have no thyme," Vanwe lamented. She had used the last of that precious herb months ago and it did not grow in the wetter and cooler north. "We also need something firm to strap Benia's ankle with. My dress is too dusty, but I know there is a store of clean cloths behind the bar that would well suit this purpose."

The idea of venturing out to where the unusual newcomer awaited so that she could wave her presence under his nose was not one Vanwe particularly wished to entertain. Already her ingrained preference for wariness was screaming a loud and much ignored protest. Vanwe nourished the hope that Silvanis or Gilly would perhaps go in search of the herbs and cloth.

Vanwe slowly stood, Benia wriggling toes a little more strongly now. It was a good sign, encouraging. Vanwe smiled a little to see it, pleased with that small thing, and looked to Silvanis and Gilly. Belatedly remembering her place, Vanwe stepped back and bowed.

"My honour to serve, my Lady," she murmured as she did so. As her gaze swept upwards again, Kaldir who sat in observation leapt into sight once more. Vanwe was robbed of breath and dragged her gaze away, back to Benia's wriggling toes whilst conversation around her discussed Cook's teas to chase away pain, words ringing in Vanwe's ears and heart pounding like a galloping horse in her chest.

It was not Kaldir's close observation, air of latent threat nor even his clothing that so terrified Vanwe. It was the expression on the man's face, an expression she had seen too many times before, that chased any warmth from Vanwe's now chilled body. Whilst discussion wound on, she shivered faintly.

[Everdawn]

"You are so very brave Aleia, What have I come to find? Well, i have gotten lost a great number of times. Well, that was before i reached Enedwaith and a small company of rangers came across me on the road. I can still remember how frightened I was."

She frowned. "At first i thought they were bounty hunters after me, but then one man stopped and said to me, rather harshly, 'girl, what are you doing alone, on such a dangerous road?' Why, i could hardly speak! After a while they took me with them, I told them my name and that people may come after me. They said they would take me this far, and here I am."

Madea smiled. "But I have been thinking of how I might get out of my predicament. And i have come to this conclusion, I have to marry before I go home, at least. That is the only option I can see." She paused. "What of the other folk in this Inn, There are so many elves!"

[Nerindel]

Léspheria had witnessed Silvanis entering the inn supporting a southern woman she had seen around the inn, a small hobbit woman was almost running to keep up with the rangers long strides. Léspheria had been too busy to give any aid and was glad when she saw Vanwe had gone with them.

But as she continued with her work, doubts crept into her mind, Vanwe had told her that she was from the south, which Léspheria had found most strange and if indeed she was, she may not know of her inherent gifts. She also remembered how uncomfortable the young Elven woman had been around Both Silvanis and the southern woman, it had almost seemed as though she feared them.

Oh! she thought as all the piece of the puzzle that was Vanwe clicked together in her mind. She immediately stopped what she was doing and rushed to the kitchen pushing passed the gathered Hobbits.

"Cook! do you have any thyme in your store?" she asked politely. "Of course I do! Why?" she asked raising a puzzled eye brow. "One of the guests has injured themselves" she quickly went on. "I need the thyme..." "for tea" the Hobbit woman finished for her, Lesperia nodded profusely. "I'll make the tea and you get that box down from up there" she said pointing to an average sized box that sat on the middle shelf next to the door. As Léspheria got the box she could see it was full of various dressings and strappings. She turned back to the hobbit woman to see her pouring the tea into a large mug, "here you go, Now make sure your patient drinks it all" she said waggling a stubby finger at her. Léspheria smiled taking the mug and box she rushed to Benia's room stopping only to check what room the woman was in.

She reached the room to see Vanwe tending the woman's swollen ankle, She nodded approvingly, It seemed the elf had some knowledge of her gifts after all. She watched from the door as the elven woman then told the Silvanis and the hobbit woman what else would be required.

She knocked the open door and entered the room, "I thought you might need this" she said pressing the tea into Benia's hands. The sweet smell of the thyme filled the room.

"Now cook said to be sure that you drink it all" she said smiling warmly at the southern woman. She then sat carefully on the end of the bed and examined the woman's ankle, "A fine job you have done she said turning to Vanwe with a knowing smile.

She then searched through the wooden box for the appropriate strapping, once she found what she was looking for, she turned again to Vanwe and Silvanis. She noticed that The elven woman had started to slowly back out of the room. Oh! No! you don't she thought to herself, "Vanwe, Silvanis I shall need your help to raise..." She pause as she remembered she didn't know the woman's name. "Benia" the hobbit woman added for her. "Thank you" she smiled appreciatively. "Yes, I will need you help to raise Benia's leg so I can apply the strapping".

Vanwe hesitated for a second then nodding she walked over to do as she was asked, Silvanis nodded and walked over without hesitation, as they reached the bed she turned to Gilly and whispered "You may want to take her hand this may hurt a little." Gilly nodded and went to take her friends hand.

Léspheria then looked between Vanwe and Silvanis as they stood opposite each other with their hands under Benia's leg ready to lift it when she gave the word. Vanwe's head was bent to avoid Silvanis's gaze, but Léspheria could see no malice or ill intent in the southern mans face. She had already guessed that an elf in the south lands of Harad would not have had an easy life, but the way the elven woman acted around these southern travellers lead her to believe that she was running away from someone or something and that she feared to be found.

She rummaged in the small herb satchel that hung from her silver dress belt. she pulled out a medium sized leaf and unwrapping it the others could see a disgusting looking brown paste, which smelled worse than it looked. Seeing the others wrinkling their noses, she laughed "Do not worry, I promise you the smell will not linger and it will take down the swelling", Benia nodded dubiously.

As Léspheria gently rubbed the paste onto the swelling the vile smell instantly subsided as she had promised, then with a nod Vanwe and Silvanis gently lifted Benia'a leg and together they applied the strapping.

As Silvanis and Vanwe lowered the woman's leg back down apon the bed, she quickly wrapped the unused paste back up in the leave and returned it to her satchel.

"Now! what Exactly has been happening here!" She asked, Shooting them each with a look that told them that she wished nothing to be omitted. She gave Vanwe and Silvanis a longer look than the others, giving the elven woman the clear indication that she had guessed what she feared.

Lespheria could clearly see that neither southern held any ill will towards the elven woman and if she was hiding from someone or something from her past it would be better for her if she asked this pair to keep her where about to themselves. She believed that they both would honour her request. She had spoken with Silvanis on her first night at the inn and had found him to be well natured and honourable and as for the southern woman... well she was friends with a hobbit woman and hobbits were known to be very choosy with whom they made friends. 'Hobbits are very good judges of character,' an old hobbit man who had lived in Rivendell for a time had once told her.

As she waited for them to reply she walked over to close the door so that they would have privacy to speak openly. But as she reached the door she saw the disfigured ranger she had served earlier, he was watching the room intently. 'Now what is his part in these peoples lives' she thought to herself. The ranger did not now look as friendly as he had earlier. So she nodded smiling pleasantly, then shut the door and turn to the other waiting patiently for them to begin.

[ June 18, 2003: Message edited by: Nerindel ]

Amorthia was fascinated by the halflings. She had never seen any race but men, and the short little people fascinated her. Her mother had called them "quarterlings".

This memory jarred Amorthia slightly, but she composed herself, remembering that there was a purpose in visiting the Shire, and it was not homesickness. Amorthia put aside the thoughts of Gondor for a time.

Running her hands through her muddy, red-brown hair, Amorthia's grey eyes watched the commings and goings of the inn. She hoped someone would recognize her, for she was said to look much like her father.

[Ealasaid]

Kaldir had watched the scene developing around the injured desert lady at the foot of the stairs with great interest, especially when the Ranger lifted her to carry her up the stairs. He watched closely to see if it was merely chivalry that he was witnessing or if there were some kind of attachment between the two of them. Seeing no special display of tenderness, Kaldir relaxed slightly. It would have been difficult for him if the lady in question had turned out to be the Ranger's lady. By principle, having once been a Ranger himself, Kaldir never troubled the Rangers or their ladies. It would be too much like taking down one of his own.

Once the group that interested him had disappeared into an upstairs room -- he was careful to note which room -- Kaldir looked for a chair that would give him a good vantage point over both the door to the room and the rest of the common room. Finding one, he settled in with his beer. Before long, the hobbit lady from the courtyard came back out of the room and began gathering up the desert lady's scattered packages. As she did so, she cast a wary glance in his direction. On a whim, Kaldir raised his beer to her in greeting, then pretended to look away, his attention drawn elsewhere. But he continued to watch her from the corner of his eye. She stared back at him for a moment longer, then turned and scurried back up the stairs. He decided he would have to keep an eye on her as well. Even hobbits who didn't look too bright were often sharper than than they appeared. This one appeared quite sharp to begin with and could turn out to be more than merely troublesome...not that she couldn't be dealt with, of course. He took another sip of his ale.

There was another one up in the room with the injured lady that Kaldir had previously not given much thought to. In his boredom while the door remained closed, he tried to recall what he could about her. She was an elf, by the look of her, tall and thin with long, pale, golden hair. When he had seen her earlier, he had catagorized her in with the Skittish ones. There was a high-strung nervousness about her that one generally did not see in elves, and her piercing blue eyes seemed to be perenially checking the shadows, the corners, the space behind her, as though certain that someday, at any moment, the shadows themselves might reach out for her. He had seen that look in the eyes of the hunted many times before. As usual, it piqued his interest. If she was running, then there was very likely someone in pursuit. And the Someone in Pursuit would very likely pay a good price to see her caught. Idly, he tried to remember what he had heard about fugitive elves. Usually the elves kept that sort of thing to themselves, to deal with themselves, but there was one he had heard about. A female. He looked up again at the closed door with renewed interest. Surely, this wasn't the Ravener's daughter.

Before long, a second elf woman, the one who had served Kaldir at the bar, climbed the stairs to join the group in the injured woman's room. She carried a large cup of herbal tea and a box. No doubt full of bindings for the leg, thought Kaldir. When she entered the room, she left the door slightly ajar, although it was not open far enough to afford him a view. A short time later, she came back to close it. As she did so, she looked directly at him. She nodded to him and smiled pleasantly, then closed the door with a resounding click of the latch.

[ June 18, 2003: Message edited by: Ealasaid ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

A considerable mob of Shirelings had gathered directly outside the room where Aman had set the mathoms out on giant sorting tables. Hobbits were impatiently pacing up and down the corridor and banging on the doorway every few seconds to beseech Cami to let them in. Several enterprising lads had shinnied up the rose trellis to gain access to the second floor window that looked onto the sorting room. These lads now had their fingers curled tightly around the ledge, with their bodies hanging down and their eyes peering in just above the bottom of the window sill. They squinted in through a good-sized hole in the curtains, vainly trying to make out what was going on inside.

Cami blocked her ears to the hubub and kept sorting through the piles that Aman had carted down from the attic. There was no way she'd get work done if she let these folk come trampling in. She'd tried that once before, and it simply hadn't worked.

Everyone claimed they wanted to help sort things, but once they got into the room, all thoughts of sorting vanished. She'd found hobbits furtively pushing mathoms into their back pockets, and others nearly coming to blows when two neighbors couldn't decide on who had first dibs on a particular item.

Perhaps, she needed some realiable helpers. Hobbits or Elves or Men who would keep their mind on business and not go off half-cocked by stuffing things into their pants and aprons. Surely there must be some guests at the Inn, or perhaps Shirelings from the surrounding neighborhood, who would assist her in this giant enterprise of mounting a jumble sale.

Cami reached inside the storage cupboard and pulled out a sheet of crisp, clean vellum along with pen and ink. Dipping the quill into the inkpot, she soon produced a handsome placard in her nicest curleykew script and, locking the door of the mathom room behind her, made her way towards the dining area where the more sensible patrons of the Dragon were enjoying mid-day tea. Using a hammer and nails, she pounded the placard up above the bar where everyone could see it.

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

Important Notice: Help Wanted:

Sensible Hobbits, Elves and Men needed who can keep their mind on their work!

Help Cami and Aman sort through all the mathoms and peddle them to our guests at a giant jumble sale. You will be rewarded for your efforts with a whole bag of desirable items which you may select from the tables before the general public is admitted.

Don't miss this chance of a lifetime!

Please leave your notes of inquiry addressed to Mistress Aman and Madame Cami with one of the bartenders......

Date and place to be announced shortly.

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With that, Cami went off searching for Derufin to see if he could possibly find time in the next few days to set up the sawhorses and planks in the Inn courtyard so the goods could be displayed.

[Elora]

The arrival of Lespheria with the thyme soaked infusion restored to Vanwe some sense of her surroundings and once more she was able to concentrate on something other than the sensation of danger that nagged at her more loudly than it had all morning. Instinct was a powerful thing, and Vanwe had learnt to heed her own. Working with the other Elf woman, self-possessed and assured, Silvanis and Gilly, Vanwe grappled inwardly for some echo of Lespheria's composure. It was wearisome to find herself more akin to a skittish deer than her own race.

The thought of her "own race" twisted within her and she kept her gaze dropped and locked on Benia. Her ankle would be pounding in sharp throbs, she sensed, but they would fade all the more quickly now that the strapping had been applied over the infusion. Vanwe glanced up to smile her thanks to Lespheria, when the Elven woman asked her question. Lespheria's gaze swung between them all, settling on each in return, and Vanwe's jaw locked on the words that tumbled within her.

She would not condemn herself by her own mouth. All was not yet lost. She could still yet keep what she sought. Vanwe clasped her hands before her in a show of more calm than she felt, more to still any trembling fingers than anything else.

"I am simply unaccustomed to healing," she said. It was no falsehood. Vanwe was indeed unused to healing. She dared not look at Silvanis or Benia, so instead she looked at a point just beside Lespheria's face upon the wall beyond her - a small thing she had learnt when dissembling many a time before. Vanwe could not discern whether Lespheria saw beyond the obvious to what rolled around within Vanwe, so for good measure she pressed on.

"Thank you for bringing the infusion. It will greatly speed healing, or such is my belief. I... have been too long away from my duties and should trouble you no longer."
Vanwe bowed again, glanced quickly at Benia, Silvanis and Gilly, who was watching the odd exchange with hobbit-like fascination, and moved on swift feet for the door. Once out in the hall she could hear the busy common-room below. More guests, more horses that meant. There were the cloths she had said she'd bring to Aman too.

Vanwe walked down the stairs with a crowded mind that still could drown out the foreboding, only to bump into Cami.

"Vanwe! We've been looking for you," she exclaimed.
"You have," Vanwe replied, foreboding spiking sharply. Who else, she wondered.
"Yes. I can't find Derufin anywhere - still passed out beneath a tree somewhere is my guess. I need saw horses and trestles for the mathoms," Cami said in a fast pitched conversation that bubbled on heedless of Vanwe's unease. Mathoms would brook no delay nor distraction.

"You plan to saw them," Vanwe said in faint confusion as they came to the bottom of the stairs. Cami favoured her with an expression that held no small measure of wonder over how such a daft mind had been able to secure even the simplest of tasks from Derufin.

"No," she said as she firmly shook her head, "I need to display them! People will come from all Farthings to see the mathoms!"

It was a self-evident truth that Cami stated. Vanwe nodded in dawning understanding.

"Ah, I know where Derufin keeps them. I can find them if you wish," the Elf offered. Cami wasted no time with detailed instructions on where they were to be installed. She asked Vanwe questions, so that she could be sure the strange Elf grasped that simple task, and satisfied with Vanwe's understanding bid her to set to it.

"As soon as I see to the horses it shall be done, Cami," Vanwe replied. Cook, who had appeared in search of Cami, sighted Vanwe and said, "Good, as Derufin will not be well pleased to find the stables untended and horses left to wait the leisure of his assistant."

Vanwe nodded, hair swaying as she swung around to make for the door. Again the weight of a gaze settled on her, and it was all she could not do to race for the door. However, once through the doorway, Vanwe moved swiftly down the stairs and even faster towards the stable where indeed horses had been hitched outside. Her hands were trembling again, and the sun a little overbright.

Vanwe plunged into the darkness of the stable, eyes blinded a moment as they adjusted. The relative quiet settled around her, and she breathed a little easier. Likely they all thought her mad. Perhaps she was. Vanwe moved to where the combs and brushes were hung on the back wall and gathered what she needed to unsaddle the awaiting horses. She paused to set the carved crane down on the small table occupied only by a thick file and a small nub of candle almost burnt down to the base on a plate.

Then, pulling her spinning thoughts harshly into mind, returned to do at least one normal thing a stable hand and assistant should be doing, even if she were mad. Blackveil snorted at her as she passed, and recalling Silvanis' words the night before Vanwe left her to move onto the others. Unbuckling saddles and hanging them over the rail, she set about rubbing them down the combing their coats.

It was physical work, but for the most part the horses did not mind the dusty, nervous Elf maiden provided she worked out a long trail and an array of grass seeds and burs picked up along the way. It was only after she had led each to where the stable's residents whiled away the day in the summer sun, that Vanwe paused again. Checking water once more, she turned back for the stables with the now empty bucket.

She still had to haul the tack and saddles in out of the elements, and she was covered in attic dust and horse. By the time she had all in it's place, tidy and clean, Vanwe felt a lethargy wash over her. Fear was exhausting and the foreboding had not abated. Vanwe placed one foot in front of the other as she made for the inn's well.

Her mind weighed heavily, her hands were still trembling and the overwhelming inclination to simply stop and let it all tumble over her dragged at it step. She distantly heard the splash of the well bucket as it hit the water, and dragged it back up to pour into her own bucket.

Vanwe paused as the well bucket stood on the stone lip. Her face was reflected in the water's surface. It was haunted, and she shuddered violently. Then, in yet another display of lunacy she upended the bucket over her head. Water sluiced over her face and through her hair to soak through her thin dress. The shaking did not stop, nor the shock of water pull her back. Vanwe gasped and sank down to sit behind the well, back against the stones.

Her head bent to rest against her arms that she had drawn over her knees. Sunlight warmed her wet hair and she knew she could not hide from the world, or herself, beside a well forever. But for the moment, it would do. Wrapped around herself, Vanwe struggled to regain some sense of stillness within herself. She needed that small peace in order to deal with others, even Lespheria who was her own kindred. Without that small inner sanctuary, she was lost. When she had it again, she would not run away as she had before. She would find Lespheria and Silvanis, and face both. She was just too tired to run anymore.

[Envinyatar]

It was late afternoon before Derufin came back to the Inn. His headache had cleared in the peaceful setting of the clearing around The Pool, and his stomach had quieted down with the help of Cook’s strong peppermint tea. So much better was his stomach, in fact, that it had started to protest it was in need of sustenance.

‘Come, Falmar,’ he said, twisting his fingers in the horse’s mane, and leaping up to clamber onto her back, ‘we should see to the other denizens of the stable. Vanwe, I think, has probably been kept quite busy with the attic, and I’m sure the ponies and horses are chafing in their stalls.’

Derufin turned her head southwest and headed across the Great East Road and to the turn-off for the Inn. He was pleased to see, as he rode up, that someone had brought the horses to the out door pen beneath the great tree. He settled Falmar in with the others, and forked some fresh hay into the hayracks on each end of the wooden fenced oval.

A quick trip to his room for a fresh shirt, and a few handfulls of water sluiced over his face and he deemed himself ready to go back into the hubbub of the Inn. Passing the mirror just inside the door to his room, he stopped, running his hands over the stubble sprouted there on his jowls. ‘No time to shave!’ his stomach grumbled at him, urging him out the door.

The back door to the kitchen was open and the smells of the lamb and vegetable stew cook was making enticed him into a quickened pace. ‘Well,’ he said, entering the fragrant arena, and stealing a cookie from the racks cooling near the door, ‘I’m back! What’s to eat?’

Cami hurried through, a verdigris sconce in her hands. ‘There you are!’ she said, shaking the rather ugly item at him as if to emphasize her point. ‘I’ve been looking all over for you!’ She took his hand and pulled him out toward the door to the Common Room. ‘Come with me! I have need of you!’
_____________________________________________

Please note that the time in the Inn has now moved to late afternoon.

[Tinuviel of Denton]

Niniel saw the small hobbit who'd first spoken to her--could it already have been two days?--nail up a sign by the bar. Curious, she excused herself, stammering a little when she looked at Soronume, and went to read it.

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Important Notice: Help Wanted:

Sensible Hobbits, Elves and Men needed who can keep their mind on their work!

Help Cami and Aman sort through all the mathoms and peddle them to our guests at a giant jumble sale. You will be rewarded for your efforts with a whole bag of desirable items which you may select from the tables before the general public is admitted.

Don't miss this chance of a lifetime!

Please leave your notes of inquiry addressed to Aman and Madame Cami with one of the bartenders......

Date and place to be announced shortly.

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

Well, Niniel didn't know what a mathom was exactly, but the idea sounded interesting. She took a small piece of paper from the pile and wrote her current name on it in thin, spidery Westron, along with a request to be allowed to help. Blushing a little at being so forward, she gave it to the bartender who came to see if she needed anything.

[Elora]

By the time Vanwe had gathered herself, fetched the sawhorses and trestles and set them up as per Cami's specific and detailed requests, the sun had sunk a little into the West. She deliberately kept her mind blank, for dark thoughts lingered despite the time she had spent huddled by the well. Vanwe stood back, casting a final perusing glance over the trestles to be sure it was as Cami would wish. Her hope was to get at least one thing right today. With a small sigh, she collected two extra saw horses and returned them to their place. A quick bypass to collect the crane from the table in the stable and Vanwe was heading back towards the inn.

Her feet were a little heavy, and became moreso, as she realised she had a lot of accounting to do and nothing that vaguely resembled a reasonable explanation. Her mind turned not for the first time to Benia, wondering how she was faring after the healing that had tumbled so much out of where Vanwe had safely locked it away. As she set her foot upon the lower step, she mused that at least her back was not raw from the beating that usually accompanied "Elvish sorcery". It brought a fey smile to briefly illuminate her grave face.

By the time she had stepped in through the door, the smile had faded as her mind turned to business ahead of her. Aman would likely know where she had disappeared to after promising to return with cloths. Lespheria would also be wanting some answers. She had to speak with Silvanis, and see Benia also. As for the Ranger, Vanwe's mind darted away. Rangers were dangerous for the likes of her. Elessar had a good reason to be so keen to bring her mother to justice, as did her own kindred. Vanwe had learnt that Rangers, like soldiers and even the Elves of Mirkwood, were to be avoided.

She would do exactly that, she decided, and avoid the new Ranger. A quick glance around the commonroom did not show him to even still be present, but Rangers could hide as well as she. Her instincts were all she had ever had, and they'd gotten her this far. Vanwe hung onto that as she made for the bar, missing in the crowd Cami and Derufin as she quietly slipped through the people. Vanwe was good at being quiet too.

A check behind the bar revealed the stack of neatly folded cloths had been moved, and Vanwe moved into the kitchen to check the pantry. All sorts of things were kept in the pantry, something she had noticed the day before. Neatly managing to avoid tripping anyone over, Vanwe stepped into the pantry and cast about.

"There you are!"

Vanwe jumped as she spun, finding Cook standing with her hands on her hips. Vanwe opened her mouth to explain her presence, and was forestalled.

"Only this morning we were speaking about the importance of meals. Don't think to make excuses to me, Missy. You're not the only one who has been skipping."

Cook secured Vanwe's wrist and soon had plucked her out of the pantry.

"To think," she clucked as she guided Vanwe to the table and sat her down firmly, "that even Elves would skip a meal and then sneak into my Pantry!"

"I'm no thief!"

Cook turned, surprise painted on her features at the passion in Vanwe's denial. Vanwe herself blushed at the loudness of her voice. When she spoke, which was not often, it was rarely so forcefully. Vanwe's gaze dropped to her lap.

"I'm not," she repeated more softly in her usual manner.
"There now, noone said you were, young lady. But come to mention it, what were you doing in my Pantry?"
"I was looking for some clean cloths I said I would fetch from Aman," Vanwe said to her lap. Cook crossed her arms and considered the odd maiden, too wan and thin by any standard, Elf or no.

"Well, there you have it. Did you find any behind the honey you were reaching for," Cook asked, humour tickling her voice as she turned away to see what little remained from lunch.

"No," replied Vanwe, this time speaking to the table she'd been sat at. Cook soon populated the table to which Vanwe had taken to talking to with what she had found.

"Aye, no surprise that Vanwe. There are none in here. Aman had Cami fetch them a good hour ago when you had disappeared. Now, where do you think you're going?"

Cook fixed Vanwe with a stern glare as she pushed up from her seat.

"Aman-"
"Also missed lunch and will have to answer to me just like you are now. Sit down and eat, Missy. You can sort everything else out later."

Vanwe sat and Cook pushed the dish towards her, filled with bread, cheeses, pickles and even a bright apple. She sighed, placed some cheese on a slice of bread and dutifully ate. Cook nodded in satisfaction and returned to the preparations for the evening, occassionally checking that Vanwe was still eating. As she drained a earthen mug of cool water, Cook smiled in satisfaction.

"There now, nothing is quite so troubling on a full stomach, is it?"

Vanwe learnt quickly. It did not do to argue with Cook.
"No," she dutifully said, gathered the dishes and set them in the warm soapy water to wash them.

"Then smile, Missy, smile," came Cook's reply as she shooed Vanwe back out of the kitchen. Vanwe did her best, lips faintly curving for Cook, and found herself back in the buzzing commonroom. Her smile lapsed and her face again took on a saddened cast. Cook was wrong. Somethings were always bad, well fed or not. With renewed intent to simply avoid the Ranger, Vanwe again combed the room to see if any of the people she had resolved to face were present.

[Horse-Maiden of the Shire]

Aleia's head whirled with Madea's predicament. Marry before she went home? How...how...(to put it childishly)unfair! Aleia thought it quite unbelievable that Madea should be forced to marry a man that she barely knew, just to maintain her freedom. Before she knew it, she was lost in her thoughts deeply, and when Madea touched her on the arm she jumped and said, "Oh, yes! The people in the inn!"

Waving her arm toward a group of elegantly-dressed individuals, she said, "Here you have your Elves. Wood-elves, mostly. Immortal, beautiful, they have everything that you want. I don't know why they are here exactly, but my guess is travellers passing through. Maybe they wanted a mug of sweet tea, a goblet of mead? A room? Perhaps."

Now she swiveled her body and pointed at another more rugged, ragged group. "Here are your Men. They are rugged and tattered, some Rangers and some just horsemen or peddlers going through the area. Again, I don't know exactly why they are here, but I think that their reasons are like the Elves."

"Lastly, here are the Hobbits," she said, waving at a large group of seated Halflings. They waved back enthusiastically. "Cheery, charming, short little folk. Everyone likes to pass through the Shire to see this place, so untouched by war, hunger, poverty...such a beautiful place. Full of peace and quiet...the Hobbits are a lovely folk to be with. Go to one of their lavish parties and you will be enthralled with their folk forever."

Aleia turned to face Madea again, and now her eyes were fixed upon Madea's. "Now tell me, miss," she began, "do you like mathoms?"