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.

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

Other ongoing characters in the Inn:

Ruby Brown, Hobbit – not married – server and maid

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

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

Ongoing characters from outside the Inn:

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

_____________________________________________


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

_____________________________________________

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

[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>[ 8:24 PM January 07, 2004: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

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

Niluial invites you to look at the proposal for her new game:

~*~ Hunted ~*~.

Click HERE.

_____________________________________________


~*~ A Hobbits only game! ~*~

The Discussion thread will open Friday, 01/08, at 11 a.m., Barrow Downs' time to take on characters.

Until then read the proposal thoroughly, take time to develop a good character, and craft a well done First Post.

This should be a fun game! See you then!

~*~ Piosenniel, Shire Moderator

[piosenniel]

An additional reminder for all posters to the Inn:

There is to be NO VIOLENCE or USE OF MAGIC/MAGICAL GADGETS in the Inn, or on the Inn grounds.

Any posts containing such will be sent back to their owners and the space for them deleted.

~*~ Piosenniel, Shire Moderator

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 8:42 PM January 07, 2004: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Gorbadic]

Gorbadic watches as the Hobbit lass walks into the Inn with a hurt elbow. He stares at her with concern and jogs over to her as she sits down.

"Are you hurt badly, miss? Is there anything I can do to help you?"

As Gorbadic asks this he notices that the elbow is a little more bloody than he thought before. He thinks of what he can do and waits for her response to his question.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 2:19 PM January 08, 2004: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Fool Of A Took]

Ferdibrand removed his darkgreen hood and shook his long curly brown hair when he entered the Inn. Finally! I am here!, he thought. He walked slowly and softly over to a table and sat down. He sighed and stretched his legs. He then turned around and ordered a cup of tea. He heard a few dwarves behind him that were talking about how they should find treasures and get rich. But Ferdibrand had never been interested; he thought they just bragged all the time. After a while he got his tea and he started sipping on it.

He had almost finished his tea and wanted to talk to someone. He had never been out on any adventure and would love to hear about anyone else adventures. Unfortunately everyone seemed busy. He decided to order another cup of tea while he looked for someone to talk to. He sighed deeply and looked around for anyone that wanted to talk.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 12:40 PM January 09, 2004: Message edited by: Fool Of A Took ]

[Niluial]

Niluial watched the woman roll her eyes when all Niluial was trying to do was be nice! Can’t anyone ask people how they are now days? Niluial asked herself. She tapped her foot gently on the ground waiting for this woman to answer. The woman glared at Niluial “And why would you like to know?”

Niluial sighed deeply, does she ever stop? Niluial looked up at the woman’s grumpy face once again and shrugged, “Because I would like to know you better.”

“I don’t think it’s that. I think you want to be polite, make me feel welcome and invited.” The woman hissed. “My name is Iris,” she said coldly. “I am from Bree and am only here because I ran after a twit of a blind girl who left her home in a temper.” Iris hissed once again. Niluial’s nails dug into the table and she bit her teeth tight together, trying to stop herself from shouting. Niluial didn’t take any note of anything else Iris said or did. Niluial glared at the woman and thought, What should I do. Niluial got up “I have enough troubles to deal with at the moment!” Niluial shouted throwing the blood stained handkerchief on the floor “Why did you have to come along and make my day worse. Before you go sitting at strangers’ tables put a smile on your face; I can’t stand snappy people!” Niluial hissed at the woman, trying not to raise her voice again. She got up from the table and flicked her long black hair back. Niluial looked at Romenna and nodded, “Good day. I will hopefully see you around!” Niluial walked off and went outside.

Niluial looked around outside to find something to do or someone interesting to entertain her. She felt as though she was missing something or someone but wasn’t exactly too sure what. She found a large tree and sat under it. Niluial lay against the tree watching the sky, it was getting dark and Niluial could see the first star in the sky. Niluial smiled and forgot about the happenings of the past few days…. She looked at her pocket and said, “Oh Silma you know…” Niluial paused and felt her pocket “Silma?” She cried. “Oh my, I forgot about Silma. She is left with that warrior person um…” Niluial stopped to think. “Oh Romenna and that grumpy Iris,” Niluial sighed. She didn’t feel like meeting the people again but she didn’t want to leave poor Silma by her self. She got up and dusted her dress off. How could I forget Silma? Oh Niluial you can be such an idiot at times! Niluial hissed at herself. She flung her hair back and started to walk back to the Inn cursing herself on the way…

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 4:44 PM January 08, 2004: Message edited by: Niluial ]

[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman watched, bemused, as an agitated Sindahir sprinted from the Common Room, hair flying as Niluial, coming back into the Inn, flattened herself against the doorway to avoid being run over.

After serving the hobbit and signing her in for a room, she instructed Ruby to take her to it and the server consented with a smile, beckoning to the hobbit as she took the key.

The tantalising smell of venison was floating into the room - perfect, not yet an hour past noon, when lunch would be served. Well, it seemed as good an excuse as any to go and see this newcomer from Brandy Hall, no less... Checking there were no immediately urgent deeds to be seen to in the Common Room, the Innkeeper ducked out of the bar and started quickly up the stairs, humming a little tune she had heard from an elf earlier in the day. Going up the second staircase, to what would be the 'servants' quarters where the hobbit was staying, she walked along, drumming her fingers lightly on the wall. She had no idea why she was feeling in such high spirits; probably something to do with the weather, the day brightening up nicely.

Indeed, the sun through one of the slightly misty, round, unshuttered windows caught the reds in Aman's brown hair as she stopped outside the room she had designated to Hawthorne and she rapped politely three times. There was a muffled thump and a surprised sound from inside, then silence. Aman stood for a moment, unsure of what to do, then raised her hand to knock again. But before her hand could make contact with the door, it opened, her knuckles rapping on thin air as the Innkeeper looked down at the hobbit lass who confronted her, standing back slightly so she wasn't actually looking so much down at her.

The girl brushed back her finely styled hair, smoothed her (there was no other word for it) pretty dress, regarding the Innkeeper for a moment, as if looking her up and down. Then she beamed, holding out a small hand.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 4:42 PM January 10, 2004: Message edited by: Amanaduial the archer ]

[Orual]

Eruisto stuck his hands in his pockets as he walked with Melisil, looking up at the sky. The blue was fading into a painted sunset, and it was a comfortable temperature. There was a slight breeze, and he continually tucked his hair behind his ears, but it wasn't long enough to stay.

He breathed deeply, enjoying the clean, fresh air of the Shire. It smelled more pure than the air in Gondor, perhaps less stained by battle. He leaned his head back and pulled his hands out of his pockets. Feeling spontaneous, he flung his arms out at his sides, almost smacking Melisil in the process, and spun around a few times, laughing wildly. The clouds spun dizzily above him, and the trees and small, homey buildings whirled and blended together around him.

He slowed down to a stop, still laughing. He stumbled a little, and he couldn't tell what expression was on Melisil's face, as she was still a bit blurry. He tried to stop moving, and though he was still swaying a little, he planted himself and put his hands on his hips. "Some days you just feel like spinning around till you fall down, you know?" he said a little too loudly. A quirky grin was on his face, and his hair was all over, but he didn't seem to notice. He nodded dizzily and put a hand on his head, as though to stop the world around him from spinning like it did.

"Lovely day," he commented, as he continued to sway. He looked at Melisil, and wondered what he thought of him.

[Gorbadic]

Gorbadic walks over to the bar part of the Inn and ordered the bartender to bring him a glass of Ale. The bartender walks off and comes back with a mug of cold Ale. Gorbadic sighs and takes a sip of of the Alr and sighs loudly and smiles contently.Gorbadic walks over to the doorway and leans against its frame and heaves a little sigh. He turns around and looks out the door while taking sips from his mug of cold Ale.

Gorbadic watches as birds fly through the air and as rabbits run through the bushes. Sy Takes another big gulp of his Ale and releases a loud burp after taking the mug from his lips. "Excuse me." Gorbadic says this with abit of embarrasment. gorbadic shrugs it off takes one last big gulp from his mug of Ale and walks back in and sets the mug on the bar counter.

Gorbadic walks back to the door of the Inn and walks outside. He takes a big breath of fresh air as a light breeze blows by and makes his curly hair sway back and forth. Puffing out his chest and looking at the sky, the Hobbit turns around and walks bck inside of the Inn. Gorbadic walks over to one the bar stools and climbs on top of it and sits. He rests his head on the barcounter and hides his face in his arms.

[Melisil]

Melisil laughed as Eruisto spun. Filled with joy, she joined him. "Yes." she agreed, slowing down slightly. "It is a very nice day indeed!"

She just smiled for second, taking a breath of the fresh air. "Shire air is lovely, isn't it?" commented she, before she started dancing again.

Dancing around she felt the wind playing with her hair, her worries left her for now, and she felt very happy.

[Gird]

Gird saw a man in a green cloak come in, and order some tea, from the seat next to him. The man then looked around, as if looking for someone. Everyone does that, he thought, and they always skip those at the bar. This ends now.

"What kind of tea is it?" asked Gird, then took a sip of his milk. The green cloaked traveller looked at Gird, and asked, "pardon me?" Gird restated his question "What kind of tea is it? is it any good?" and then, "hi, my name's Gird," and he held out his hand.

Feeling sheepish that he almost forgot his manners.

[Gorbadic]

Gorbadic lifts his head from his folded arms and looks over at Gird with a smile etched into his face. He was drunk. Gorbadic tries to get down from the bar stool and but ends up falling to do the floor after slipping and hitting the floor hard. Staggering to his feet, he rubs his bottom in pain and holds onto the bar stool for support. Gorbadic lets go of the bar stool and walks in zigzags over to the door.

He looks outside and let out a stream of hickups and burps. He stares with his eyes narrowed and looking around at whatever was in front of him, even if it was nothing. Sy turns around and walks back to the bar area and staggers over to Gird. He looks up and pulls on Gird's leg and lets out a hickup followed by a burp which doesnt smell to pleasant.

Gorbadic looks up at Gird and grins stupidly. "Hello there buddy. Got any brew on ya. Make it strong." Saying these words with a drunken voice. Saying only what came to his mind. Only careing about the word coffee.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 12:33 PM January 09, 2004: Message edited by: Gorbadic ]

[piosenniel]

One spot left open for a female Dwarf.

Orc Captain also needed.

Challenge your writing /gaming skills and give one of them a try.

__________________________________________________ ________________

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 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!

~*~ Piosenniel, Shire Moderator

[SonOfBombadil]

Lewis began to tell Ravon about his life in Rohan as a small boy, born to a blacksmith by the name of Eodain, and a his mother from Gondor. About his growing up in small towns, and then moving to Edoras at 13. It was four years later, when he found himself in the midst of the battle of Helm's Deep. Conscripted into what would become his new life.

After the War of the Ring, he had left home to do some exploring. The many races he saw during the war, inspired him to go out and see more of the world. Having just turned 18, and having lots of battle experience, he felt he was ready to take on anything.

"I've done a lot of travelling since then, meeting up with people, helping them. Fighting against foes along the way. Making good friends, and losing some too..." He trailed off. "sorry, I'm ranting again." He looked at Ravon, then looked down at his empty mug, and slid it away from himself.

"Well, we've heard lots about me, but not much about you. If I may be so bold to ask, what's your story Ravon? What's brought you here thus far?" He looked at her, awaiting stories of great wisdom, and beauty. Stories that he thought would be much more interesting than his own.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Hawthorne glared over at the woman standing opposite her in the hallway. Goodness gracious! This must be Mistress Aman, the lady Master Merry had spoken about earlier. This was not how Hawthorne had hoped to meet the Innkeeper. Her skirts were wrinkled from riding her pony and afterwards lying down on the bed to catch a little nap.

Even worse, her servant and companion was still missing, out somewhere on the road with all the chests and satchels packed into the pony cart. All her lovely jewelry and petticoats and fine bone hairbrushes had not arrived at the Inn. Pushing back a feeling of panic, Hawthorne reminded herself to be polite and try to make a good impression.

The hobbit lass beamed generously at the Innkeeper, holding out her hand, "Hello, there. I don't believe we've met. I'm Hawthorne Brandybuck...." She was careful to pronounce her last name slowly to make sure that Aman understood she was one of the famous Brandybucks, known for their wealth and good-natured antics, their general wit and charm. After all, the Tooks and the Brandybucks were the natural leaders of the Shire and Buckland; anyone would be thrilled to have one knocking at their door!

Hawthorne forged ahead, without waiting for the Innkeeper to respond, "Cousin Meriadoc, the new Master of Brandy Hall, suggested I might want to spend some time here, especially since his friend Mayor Sam is in the neighborhood, and we are not far from Tookborough, which is quite lovely for day trips. You must be Aman!" Hawthorne added with a bright smile. "Master Merry spoke highly of you."

"Indeed, he suggested that I might want to offer my services here at the Inn. I even have a letter of reference from him." She slipped her hand into the pocket of her embroidered vest and pulled out one of the sealed envelopes that Ruby had given to her, pushing it towards Aman.

Hawthorne confided in a matter-of-fact tone, "You know, I've never held a paid position before, but I know a great many useful things. I can play the zither and recite the names of all the kings of Numenor, which is quite an unusual skill for a hobbit. Nanny Cami made me learn that when I was but a small child. I'm not too good at figures, but I have plenty of experience dealing with servants and telling them what to do. I could help you run the Inn and make sure everyone does their job properly." She beamed over at the Innkeeper, at the same time crossing her fingers behind her back in hopes that this impromptu speech would bring her good fortune, and an immediate offer of employment.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 2:29 AM January 09, 2004: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Angel_Queen]

My story. "Well I'm suppose to be after a young elf that ran away from Eryn Lasgalen. You could almost say I'm suppose to take her back. Yet after so many years of following her and hurting myself I decided I couldn't do it." Ravon moved her hand to point out Cree. " You see she is doing so well here without being around her people. Since birth I've been taught how to fight with swords. I never wanted to do any of the girlie stuff. It never made me happy."

Ravon went on tell about how she had wanted to go to Rivendell with Legolas but they wouldn't let her. "So you might say I left Eryn Lasgalen for a while to complete my training. When I went back I was given the job to take a child named Cree back home." Just mentioning Cree's name made Ravon want to cry. "I don't want to take her back. I don't want to hurt myself any more. I've found happiness and it happens to be right here."

Long has it been since I've found happiness. Yet now that I have found it I don't want to give it up. She looked towards the fire and then looked back to Lewis. In the light of the fire Lewis could see a tear roll down her cheek. "Don't make me hurt myself again." It seemed as if Ravon was talking to herself. "Lewis, don't let me hurt myself again. I'm tired of it and if I did hurt myself it would end up driving me crazy."

She felt the tear roll down her cheek and began to whipe it away. It had been a long time since she had cried. She sat there just staring off into the fire.

[Gorbadic]

Gorbadic lays on the floor of the Inn and snores loudly from earlier befores drunkeness.It's still the same day in the Inn no day has passed. Gorbadic's eyes open up to see a young Hobbit standing over him with smile on his face. Gorbadic couldnt tell if the is young Hobbit was male or female. "Are you ok mister?" The voice rang out and Gorbadic could tell that this was a little male Hobbit. This youngens brown hair falls over his eyes as he looks down at the Hobbit on the floor. "Do you need help mister?" The young voice again rang out to Gorbadic.
Gorbadic nods and holds up a hand while the younger hand reaches out and grabs it, helping up the older Hobbit. "What are you doing here young one? Shouldnt you be with your parents or something right now?" Gorbadic says with a voice that says he is getting over the Ale from last night. "My parents are outside talking with some friends." Says the young one. "What is your name little fellow?" Gorbadic asks the kid. "My name is Jonifot Hollowoak, sir." Jonifot replys. "Well thanks for helping me up but you should get back to your parents Jonifot." "Ok mister, bye." The child known as Jonifot runs out from the Inn and runs around its corner disapearing.

Gorbadic stands up and walks over to the bar and climbs atop a bar stool and asks the bartender for a glass of water. The bartender returns with a glass of water like Gorbadic had asked for. Gorbadic begins to drink th water and feel better from last night.

[Amanaduial the archer]

As Hawthorne rattled on good-naturedly and proudly, from the moment she pronounced Brandybuck lengthily, Aman was unable to keep a half-smile from her lips, try as she might, as she recalled the relaxed, mischievious and often scruffy Merry. A flash came to her, of catching him one day, as he and Pippin entered through the tradesmens' door of Brandy Hall, tiptoeing carefully on muddy feet, and freezing as they saw her leaning against the door, before both shamelessly tried a 'winning smile'. Aman grinned inside herself, then sighed almost inperceptibly; both were now bound to such high fates, Pippin in line to become Thain, Merry now Master Meriadoc Brandybuck, Master of Brandy Hall.

All the time, Hawthorne kept up her cheery chatter, and Aman snapped back to the present guiltily, relieved when she realised she hadn't missed much, but was flattered at the hobbit's next words.

"...Master Merry spoke highly of you."

Aman was unable to stop her smile spreading slightly, foolish though she knew it was: the idea that the highly born little hobbit, always ready to talk and joke to all, had remembered her, and favourably, was indeed flattering. Passing a 'letter of reference' to Aman, Hawthorne took a second to beam again, clasping her hands behind her back as she watched the Innkeeper slit the fine, velvety-green parchment with a small knife from her pocket (not with the larger knife hidden in her skirts - not many of the customers would ever get to know that as there, and that was best. It would not do to terrify one of Merry's little cousins.

Bringing her hands back out, Hawthorne began to count her virtues on her fingers, and Aman rightly guessed that, despite her cheery demeanour, Hawthorne was indeed nervous, needing something to do. Aman listened before she started scanning the letter, first simply taking in the fine paper and writing, pleasing to hand in eye. She was beginning, despite trying to keep an open mind, a rather skeptical feeling about Hawthorne but sure, she seemed a good sort anyway, and a reference in the girl's speech to 'Nanny Cami' made Aman think (or hope, she wasn't entirely sure which) that she couldn't be entirely senseless.

My dear Aman...

Aman paused suddenly, looking sharply up at Hawthorne, realising what she had indeed just said. She hesitated, then started rather hesitantly, "Good with...servants?"

Hawthorne nodded enthusiaticly, her curls bobbing sweetly. "I should think so, yes."

"And..." Aman's slight sinking feeling was know becoming a deep-river diver. "...help me...run the Inn?"

Hawthorne didn't seem to notice her discomfort, nodding again. "Absolutely, Aman, I would be glad to help in managing the Inn." Aman couldn't help but notice the lack of the almost obligitory 'Miss' she had become so used to, and the word 'managing' creeping in. Strange, how she wouldn't have minded in Rohan, but this could be a bit of a handful...now how to handle it tactfully...

"You haven't held a paid position before though?" Aman queried gently and seriously, as if in a real interview. Hawthorne paused but only for the space of an eye-blink. "I'm sure that wouldn't be too much of a set-back," she hazarded. "After all, for someone of my upbringing and family..." she trailed off, and her hands had vanished behind her back again. Aman saw the sleeves of the dress twitching slightly, as if the girl was twisting her hands nervously. She regarded the hobbit for a moment, then held up a serous finger.

"I think," she began, looking Hawthorne in the eye. "I think maybe that a slightly lower position would be better at the beginning? Not to insult you, of course, Miss Hawthorne," she added hastily. "But I'm sure someone of your teaching and family will be able to understand. After all, there may be room for promotion, hmm? I don't suppose I need any help actually running the Inn at the moment, per say...but there is always help to be done around the place."

Hawthorne seemed thunderstruck, and opened her mouth to begin, but Aman got there first, as quickly as she could without being rude. "Excuse me one moment; I'll just read the letter. Have a little think about the idea, hmm?" Smiling briefly, she looked down to the fine hand, a voice forming in her head as she read, the voice of Master Merry.

My Dear Aman,

It has been years since our paths last crossed. I so enjoyed your visit and Pio's to Brandy Hall.

So much has happened. My dear father recently passed away and I have now taken on the duties of making sure things run well in Buckland. Sometimes I long for the old days, when my greatest headache was deciding whether to steal mushrooms or cabbages out of Farmer Maggott's gardens!

I am afraid I have a great favor to ask of you. The bearer of this letter is my cousin Hawthorne Brandybuck, also of Brandy Hall. She is a sweet, good-natured hobbit who has decided to go "adventuring". Hawthorne is a bright lass, but unfortunately has long been under the influence of parents who do not exhibit a shred of common sense. I am ashamed to admit that they too are my relatives!

Hawthorne’s own mother Hornbeam Proudfoot Brandybuck is a silly and frivolous lady whose only concern is how many fancy clothes she can cram into her wardrobe and how she can advance her children’s social standing. To this end, Hornbeam has schemed and plotted to attract half the landed bachelors in Buckland and the Shire as suitors for her daughter. Her father is a timid sort and goes along with Hornbeam's schemes.

Yet I believe there is still hope for Hawthorne. She has turned up her nose at the lads and longs to journey to 'distant' places. As a first step in that direction, I have taken it upon myself to encourage her to move out from under her parents' roof and try her luck elsewhere.

Although I could certainly supply her with funds for such a journey, I have purposely refrained from doing so. Instead, I have impressed upon her the necessity of finding suitable employment, although I am undertain if she understands exactly what that entails!

From my own experience, I can say that journeying to a distant place and having to stand up on your own two furry feet can have a very good affect on a hobbit's character. So I would beg you to consider hiring Hawthorne to help in the Dragon. You will find her eager, if a bit bungling. However, should she do any serious damage to the Inn, I will, of course, reimburse any and all costs..... After all, she is a Brandybuck!

Incidentally, she brings with her a servant and companion, one Dandelion Greenhand, who is a most sensible hobbit. Dandelion will keep an eye on the lass, but will give Hawthorne the illusion of freedom. She is a former nursemaid and will stay with the Gamgee family, helping Rose with the children.

I hope you can return to visit us sometime in Buckland. Please give my regards to Mistress Piosenniel if you should speak with her.

With Best Regards,

Merry, now Master of Brandy Hall
(How strange it seems to write that!)

The sound of Ruby's voice, telling her it would be ten minutes until lunch, came at almost the exact moment when Aman finished reading, her eyes lingering on the writing. Folding the fine green paper and replacing it in its envelope, Aman looked back at Hawthorne thoughtfully as she put the letter into one voluminous pocket, her head on one side.

"Hawthorne," she said thoughtfully. "Do you know anything about food?"

[Fire-Galad]

Sindahir unable to stand the indoors any longer, walked over to the door opened it, and walked out. As she walked to the stables, Sindahir thought about the last times she had seen her family.

Sindahir was running in a foot race against two Gondorian boys, Feanor, and Maikaalph. She ran as fast as the wind and left the boys far behind. After winning the race, the boys congraulated her, but Maikaalph sulked. The day was as beautiful as could be and nothing in Middle-Earth could spoil it. Execpt a band of Orcs. When They attacked, Feanor made sure that Sindahir was safe befor fighting. Sindahir had crawled over to the battle to watch and what she saw was horrifying. Most of the Orcs were dead or chased off, but twenty remained. Sindahir watched as her mother had given the Orc she was fight a killing blow when another Orc got behind her mother, stabbed, and killed her. Sindahir looked around to see if anyone could have saved her. Feanor, her father, and many of the other adults were giving chase to the Orcs. All execpt Maikaalph. He was just standding there doing nothing. Sindahir had jumped out of her hidding place and shot the Orc responsible for her mather's death.

Sindahir smiled ever so slightly. She had never been good at combat so that shaot had made Sindahir feel better. Only even to this day she had never forgiven Maikaalph for what he did. She then turned to two days after she had run away.

Sindahir was walking when she heard hooves behind her. Not wanting to be found, Sindahir hid in some bushes. Her father and Feanor came riding into veiw. the two of them talked for awhile before an Orc ambush attacked them. Both were killed in the fight. Not wanting to be found, Sindahir stayed hidden until the Orcs were far enough away that she could shoot at them and run. So that's what she did. Sindahir had to run for days until she reached Rohan There she met and befriended Snowstar. The two had shared many adventures and Sindahir became a crafty Ranger in her ways until they came to the Shire. So had ended that adventure and another had begun.

"Yea, another adventure." Sindahir whispered to Snowstar. The horse moved her head like she was nodding. "Oh, you think so too?" Sindahir walked out feeling lonely. "Am I so much like a Silvan Elf that no one will talk to me?" She noticed Melisil and Erusto enjoyong themelves. Sindahir rubbed her bracelet, the jewels gleamed like stars. "I wonder if Maikaalph's back from his talk with Sam. I better go check." Sindahir stopped, closed her eyes, and listened. Yes, there was. The sea always calling her and she always ignoring it. "Maybe my time has not yet come, my friend."

&lt;font size=1 color=339966&gt;[ 10:25 AM January 10, 2004: Message edited by: Fire-Galad ]&lt;/font&gt;

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 10:25 AM January 10, 2004: Message edited by: Fire-Galad ]

[ShadowElf]

Maikaalph finally snapped out of the trance he was in.
"Why would she think I was responsible for her mother's death." He started to think of that fatal day.

He had lost the race to Sindahir, like usual, and was showing his normal feelings about it. Then a horde oforcs appeared and began to attack them. I had fought long and hard. sustaining a few injuries but bypassing them to help the others. He had been near Sindahir's mother when the battle began and was there the whole time. Next thing he knew Sindahir was gone and her mother on the ground. The orcs ran and the others chased them, but he stayed behind. He wanted to help Sindahir's mother, but it was too late, she was beyond aid. Her last words were, "Maikaalph tell Sindahir I'm sorry." She then slipped out of life. Sindahir then appeared behind me angry as ever. She yelled something about the death being my fault. I just ignored her. When she drew her knife, I knew what I had to do. I gave her a quick swipe to knock her blade away, mounted my horse, and rode off.

"I need to tell Sindahir the truth." he said
With that he got up to go see Sindahir but she was gone. "I'll just wait for her."

[piosenniel]

~*~*~*~ [img]smilies/smile.gif[/img] NEW GAME DISCUSSION THREAD NOW OPEN [img]smilies/smile.gif[/img] ~*~*~*~

Niluial invites you to look at the proposal for her new game:

[img]smilies/biggrin.gif[/img] ~*~ Hunted ~*~ [img]smilies/biggrin.gif[/img].

~*~ A Hobbits only game! ~*~

Click HERE.

This should be a fun RPG! Come join in!

~*~ Piosenniel, Shire Moderator

[Fool Of A Took]

Ferdibrand Took

Ferri that were bored and had been sitting by the table alone for a while rose up from his chair and walked over to the bar. He sat down on a chair. Maybe there is someone here who whants to talk with me he thought. He ordered an ale and he looked around himself. He got the feeling that someone were looking at him. He couldn’t see anyone looking at him, but the feeling were still there.

After a while he got his ale and he started drinking. Someone is watching me. I wonder who or what it is. he thought. He took his hood up and tried to not look behind him. He drew the hood closer around his head and moved closer to the bar disk. I am getting tired of this! I am so silly! Of course anyone wouldn’t be watching me!? I am not that interesting. he thought and shook his head.

[Finwe]

Finwë drew his hood back up over his face and got up. It was high time that he left. Enough strange things had happened to him today, and frankly, he did not want to meet any more long lost relatives or well-wishers, no matter how eloquent or beautiful they were. He made his way between the tables, nodding to some other patrons who lifted their mugs in a salute.

As he walked out the door, he caught the innkeeper's eye for a moment, smiled, and quickly bowed. Anor's dying rays lit up the surroundings with a rose-gold tint. Finwë strode to the stables and went to find his horse. The stable boy had indeed been trustworthy. His horse had been fed, watered, groomed, and rested. Finwë gently wound his fingers in the horse's mane, and led him outside. Once they had cleared the entrance to the stable, and after checking that all his belongings were with him, Finwë swung up on the horse and galloped south on the road. Yes, he would go to Minas Tirith after all. It had been a very long time since he had last seen the White Tower.

[Fire-Galad]

Sindahir opened her eyes. "I guess I should go check now." Sindahir walked back to the Inn. When she got in, Sindahir saw Maikaalph sitting by himself. 'Well here goes nothing.'
Sindahir walked over to him and in a chair on the other side of the table. "Back so soon, Maikaalph?" Maikaalph looked up and started to talk in a calm voice.

"Sindahir, I have to..." What ever Maikaalph was going to say, he didn't finish because Sindahir had just inturupted him.
"Don't ever talk to me like that. I thought when I ran away, I had left not only my brother, but you as well. I tried to forget that day, to forget what you did!" Sindahir, raised her left hand, ready to smack him. Maikaalph, thinking fast,grabbed her wrist and stared at her bracelet.
"Where did you get that?"
"It's none of your business," hissed Sindahir trying to get her hand free. "I got it from my father before I ran away." Maikaalph let go of Sindahir's wrist and continued his story.
"I didn't kill your mother. I stood by her through the whole fight. I looked away for just a moment to see where you were and she was all ready dying. The last thing she said was 'Tell Sindahir, I'm sorry.' I didn't know what it meant but maybe you do." Sindahir bowed her head.
"What she meant was that she was sorry for a fight that we had. I'm not going to tell you what it was exactly, but it about my liniage and my apperance." Sindahir leaned back in her chair. "so that's why I'm here, but I'm interested in your reason for being here." Maikaalph looked around the room before starting.
"Well...um I... it's a little hard to explain and I dodn't think you'll get it." Sindahir fixed him with one of her stares.
"Try me."

[Gorbadic]

Gorbadic finishes off his last drink of water and feel not just refreshed but no longer drunk. Gorbadic, such a fool to get drunk. Gorbadic slowly walks over to table near the door way wand sits at the table. He taps his fingers on the table in the toon of some Elvish music he heard three years ago. He still thinks of the toon since it was the toon he heard right before his uncle, who had raised him as a baby and tought him to farm, died.

Gorbadic stops tapping his fingers on the table and sighs loudly trying to figure out what to do. Gorbadic stands up and walks back up to the bar counter and asks if they have any s. The bartender nods without saying a single word and dissapears. When the bartender returns he is holding a small bowl filled with fried s. "Thank you." Gorbadic says this with a voice that the bartender knows is truly thankful.

[piosenniel]

~*~*~*~ [img]smilies/smile.gif[/img] 2 FEMALE HOBBITS NEEDED! [img]smilies/smile.gif[/img] ~*~*~*~

Niluial invites you to look at the proposal for her new game:

[img]smilies/biggrin.gif[/img] ~*~ Hunted ~*~ [img]smilies/biggrin.gif[/img].

~*~ A Hobbits only game! ~*~

Click HERE.

This should be a fun RPG! Come join in!

~*~ Piosenniel, Shire Moderator

[Fool Of A Took]

Ferdibrand Took

Ferdibrand finished his ale quickly and jumped down from the chair. He didnt feel safe. He walked over to table he sat by before and removed his hood as he sat down. He shook his hair and then sighed. He started being hungry, so he decided to order some food. He some ordered some ribbs and ale and sat down once more. He scouted the Inn and tried to see if anyone really were watching him. Again he got angry at himself for being so paranoid. After a while he got his ribbs and ale. He loved ribbs. Especially with potatos.

He finished his meal and leaned back in the chair. Maybe I should go to the Common room to see if anyone whants to talk there. I would like to hear how people have it around here now. It was so long since I last was here. he thought slowly rose from his chair. He walked over into the Common room and sat down in one of the comfortable armchairs close to the fireplace. He noticed that someone sat beside him but he didn't say anything. I should say something, he thought. Wasn't that the reason I came here in the first place.

[Thengal]

Breylo studied the hobbit,who had just sat down next to him by the fire in the common room next to him, closely. Breylo smoked his pipe thinking deeply, thinking about the nervous look on the hobbit's face and then studying the eviroment around the inn.

"Awfully paranoid for a hobbit with a full belly," thought Breylo. He pondered on the thought for what seemed like a lifetime as he gazed into the fire. "This could be the one I'm looking for," he thought. Then, suddenly the hobbit spoke up.....

[ShadowElf]

"I hate it when she does this." Maikaalph thought. "At least I told her the true story of her mother's passing. "Ok, here's the story.There is something I've been trying to find here." he began.

"What?" Sindahir asked curiously.

"The need to talk to Sam was just a decoy to throw people off my track. You see I left Lothlorien with a mission. I was going to find my way here to the Shire. King Eomer has sent me to find a man here. He said he wants to know if he is loyal to Rohan or will betray it." He paused to take a sip of ale. and look around. "However, I found him before I came here. He was about to betray Rohan, I could tell. When I told him I came from the Riddermark he attacked me saying "the Riddermark wil fall."

Maikaalph suddnely realized that a crowd had gathered to hear his tale.

"Here's what happened."

I was chasing him for days, when he arrived at Amun Sul. When I approached him he must have guessed my motives because, as I said, he attacked me. We fought atop the old fortress for what seemed like hours giving and taking blows. After a long time I knocked his blade out of his hand and quite far away. As he ran for his sword I fired a quick shot from my bow and killed him. I dug a small hole outside Amun Sul to burry him. Then, feeling the pain from my wounds came here. I plan to leave for Rohan in a few days.

Just then, Ruby came by and dropped two mugs of ale in front of them.

"On the house," she said. "A tale like that deserves this."

"So Sindahir what have you been up to?" Maikaalph began

"Well..." Sindahir began.
____________________________________________

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 8:13 PM January 10, 2004: Message edited by: ShadowElf ]

[piosenniel]

Please Note:

This request is found at the top of this page -

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

I want to see posts that have more descriptive prose in them, and less dialog.

Posts in the Inn which contain mostly or only dialog will be returned to their posters to be revised.

~*~ Piosenniel, Shire Moderator

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 6:00 PM January 10, 2004: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[SonOfBombadil]

Lewis listened as Ravon told him her story. It was a sad story, full of sadness and hurt. In the light of the fire Lewis could see a tear roll down her cheek. Ravon spoke, almost to herself, "Lewis, don't let me hurt myself again. I'm tired of it and if I did hurt myself it would end up driving me crazy."

As the tear rolled down her cheek, she wiped it away and looked towards the fire. Lewis looked at Ravon and spoke. "Ravon, to see you hurt is the last thing I want to happen." She turned, and they looked into each others eyes. "I wont let you get hurt," he said with smile forming on his face.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 1:13 AM January 11, 2004: Message edited by: SonOfBombadil ]

[Everdawn]

Sírabel and Lanus

Lanus and Sírabel had been talking all day about mainly mindless things, but she did feel as though she had made a life-long friend. However, now a seed of doubt was planted in her mind. What things had Lanus not told her of himself? And moreover, why did he not share them with her? She supposed that they were embarrasing, but them again, Lanus had left the Gondorian Army.

"What are you thinking about?" asked Lanus form across the table, Sírabel did not easily hide when something was troubleing her.

"Nothing, my head just hurts, is all." she smiled, but Lanus was not fooled.

"You a very bad fibber, my girl." He knew that it was he who was making her worry, and he knew exactly what it was about. Why should i tell her, she would probably just mouth off to the next person she chats to about it. Though there was genuine concearn in her eyes. Perhaps i will tell her tomorrow. He smiled and patted her hand.

"It's late" he said raching for his cloak which he had put on the seat beside her. "Ive had my day off, and ive spent all of it, and the night before talking with you." Sírabel gasped as if she were hurt. Lanus smiled. "And i have to ride once more tonight for another client."

"Why?" she asked.

"Becuase i have to earn a living Miss Delone. Not to worry, ill come back and have tea with you tomorrow evening, and then i shall tell you somehting you dont know." He stood up and put some coins on the table. "This will pay for all we have drunk this last while, Ill see you tomorrow evening Miss Delone." and he mock-bowed.

"Bye Lanus," she said nursing her head. "You better come back or youll never hear the end of it." she had not noticed his attempt at making her angry once more but glanced up in time to see his dark head leave the Inn. "Great" she said. "What now?" she thought for a while whilst tapping the coins on the table.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Do you know anything about food?

Hawthorne gazed warily over at the Innkeeper, uncertain how she should respond. Like most young hobbits, Hawthorne knew a great deal about the consumption of food. She never missed a second breakfast and would normally load down her supper plate with all manner of interesting things to eat. But surely this was not what Aman had in mind.

How could she possibly give a truthful answer? Her mother had neglected to teach her anything about what goes on inside a kitchen. Most young hobbits, even the lads in the family, have assigned chores that require them to help out at suppertime with a whole range of tasks from peeling vegetables and skinning conies to learning how to build a blazing fire in the grate and turning a batch of mushrooms into a tasty pie. Hawthorne did not know how to do any of those useful things. Her mother employed several Harfoot servants to cook the meals and serve the food and keep their apartments at Brandy Hall neat and tidy. Hornbeam considered her daughters to be above such mundane tasks and made it a point to tell that fact to everyone she met.

Yet if Hawthorne confided the truth to the Innkeeper, she would never secure employment and, lacking funds, might even be sent home in disgrace. Nor did Hawthorne care to fabricate a past she'd never had. She had a basic sense of right and wrong and did not like to go against that.

There was a long pause in the conversation as the lass desperately fidgeted with her fingers and searched for something to say that would gain her an offer of employment while still containing just a smidgeon of truth. Hawthorne promised herself that, once she actually secured a position, she would figure out how to do the cooking she needed. All the young servants at Brandy Hall helped with dinner preparations. Surely a bright Fallohide lass, especially one with the last name of Brandybuck, could do as good a job as any fourteen-year old Harfoot scullery maid.

Hawthorne's eyes brightened as a tiny seed of an idea blossomed inside her mind. She turned to Aman, curtseyed, and smiled, "Oh, yes, Mistress Aman. I do love a variety of foods, but my specialty is fish." At this point, the lass launched into a long tirade on the merits of various fish, where and how to catch them, and delicious dishes that could be made from each variety.

Like many youngsters growing up in Buckland, Hawthorne had spent more time at the local swimming hole than anywhere else. On many a summer afternoon, she could be found splashing about in the water or rowing out in her little boat to try and catch some fish. The river Brandywine was as familiar to her as the back of her hand. Yet with all this fishing and having fun, she had never learned to clean a fish in her entire life and knew nothing about how to prepare the dishes she'd described. Hawthorne merely presented her string of fish to the servants, and they took care of the rest. Yet, however misleading an impression she had created for the Innkeeper, technically, Hawthorne had not told any lies.

"I am sure I can help you, Mistress Aman," Hawthorne added, sounding confident and knowledgeable, "There's a lovely pond out in back of the Inn and the Water itself runs due east. I could use my nets and lines to catch an interesting mess of fish and prepare them for all the guests at the Dragon to enjoy." She beamed over at the Innkeeper, waiting for her response.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 9:49 AM January 11, 2004: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Fool Of A Took]

"Nice fireplace, isn't it?" Ferdibrand said and nervously fingered on a pendant he had around his neck. Calm down now, Ferdibrand!, he thought and tried to take deep breaths. "Well, I guess I should introduce myself. I am Ferdibrand Took from Hobbiton. And you?"

Ferdibrand started to study the person left to him. He looked at his face and saw that he stared into the fire. Ferdibrand didn't whant to look unpolite so he stopped look at him. Suddenly he turned to Ferdibrand and opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again. Ferdibrand awaited with excitment his answer.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 6:57 AM January 11, 2004: Message edited by: Fool Of A Took ]

[Will Witfoot]

Fungrim emptied the rest of his mug and belched, managing to draw a couple of reproachful looks from the ladies in the crowd. He shrugged mentally and wiped his mouth with his beard, what they thought about his table manners was none of his concerns. He decided to go someplace more comfortable and ordered yet another jack, which the barmaid handed him with a glance that seemed to say: Any troublemaking, mister, and I'll have you dragged out by your beard. He felt amused. Bold thoughts, he thought, by someone who was in no condition to fulfill them.

He rose from the bar-stool and made his way to the common room. He felt slightly tipsy, but then again he had thrown down quite a few pints allready. As good ale was hard to come by in the wildernes it was sensible to make the most of his stay here.
Dwarfs were by nature able to endure more alcohol (and other things) than any other race of the free peoples. After so many a jack a human would be singing high as a girly elf, and an elf would be sorely regretting ever stepping inside the inn in the first place. Fungrim felt only slightly tipsy as of yet.

Finding a free seat at one of the armchairs around the fireplace he tamped some of his prized tobacco into his pipe. He lit it with a burning twig from the fireplace, and as he inhaled the rich smoke, the words and melody of an ancient song started drifting into his mind. Quietly he started singing at first, but his voice gathered strenght with every word. Soon the words echoed from his throat like it did in the ancinet, cavernous halls of the dwarfs.

The world was young, the mountains green,
No stain yet on the Moon was seen,
No words were laid on stream or stone,
When Durin woke and walked alone,
He named the nameless hills and dells,
He drank from from yet untasted wells,
He stooped and and looked in Mirrormere,
And saw a crown of stars appear,
As gems upon a silver thread,
Above the shadow of his head.

The world was fair, the mountains tall,
In Elder Days before the fall
Of mighty kings in Nargothrond
And Gondolin, who now beyond
The Western Seas have passed away:
The world was fair in Durin's Day.

A king he was on carven throne
In many-pillared halls of stone
With golden roof and silver floor,
And runes of power upon the door.
The light of sun and star and moon
In shining lamps of crystal hewn
Undimmed by cloud or shade of night
There shone for ever fair and bright.

There hammer on the anvil smote,
There chisel clove, and graver wrote;
There forged was blade, and bound was hilt;
The delver mined, the mason built.
There beryl, pearl, and opal pale,
And metal wrought like fishes' mail,
Buckler and corslet, axe and sword,
And shining spears were laid in hoard.

Unwearied then were Durin's folk;
Beneath the mountains music woke;
The harpers harped, the minstrels sang,
And at the gates the trumpets rang.

The world is grey, the mountains old,
The forge's fire is ashen-cold;
No harp is wrung, no hammer falls;
The darkness dwells in Durin's halls;
The shadow lies upon his tomb
In Moria, in Khazad-dûm.
But still the sunken stars appear In dark and windless Mirrormere;
There lies his crown in water deep,
Till Durin wakes again from his sleep.

The last words sounded from deep within his throat, ringing like the horns of the dwarfs in the mountain halls old as the high peaks themselves. Fungrim thought about the life which had been denied him when he was cast out of the hold with threats of death and harsh words echoing in his ears. He felt tears trying to battle their way into his eyes and got up and made for the door.

Once outside he bursted into bitter, silent tears, weeping for the life which he had lost.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 6:56 AM January 11, 2004: Message edited by: Will Witfoot ]

[The Perky Ent]

Hamfast chased after Fungrim outside the Inn. He saw him sitting on a bench weaping. Hamfast approached Fungrim slowly. The day grew cold.

Slowly Hamfast approached Fungrim and said "Uh, Fungrim? Remember me? Hamfast? We talked a while ago? I loved that poem. It inspires me so. It teaches me wonders.

With a burst of his stomach Hamfast spoke to Fungrim: "is there anyting else you can teach me?"

[Thengal]

"Well, that's very interesting" thought Breylo as he relite his pipe. The hobbit seemed to be interested in him. "Maybe I'll test him...."

"How go things in Buckland," Breylo said using the test question he was instructed to use. He anticipated the expected ansewer, if this was even the one he was looking for. Breylo looked intently at the hobbit trying to read his reaction to the question. He waited for him to say,"The mushrooms were good this year."

[Eruantalon]

after meeting his friend on the road. The not so strange stranger asked him if he knew anywhere they could find food. He smiled a broad grin. One that he used often in the taveren.

I know a place that serves fine ales and good food. I'll take you there Irewnath. They strolled for not long. Over some hills and down some paths. Over and under they whent. Then finaly they found there spot.

Throw the doors of the green dragon. Then to a table where he saw a familar face. He smiled back and they made there way over for a talk and a pint. He couldn't help but smile when he came here. Good food, good friends, and most of all the best ales.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 1:42 PM January 11, 2004: Message edited by: Eruantalon ]

[Fire-Galad]

"Well, I'm here to relaxe if you want to know," Sindahir replaid calmly. "But I was just considering going to Minas Tirith for some information from a friend." Sindahir sat back in her chair smirking to herself. Maikaalph studied her face before answering to her words.
"Is the friend by any chance...oh I don't know...say...Legolas?" That nearly caught Sindahir completly offguard. She however was able to hid it.
"Maybe he is and maybe he isn't. It's none of your business." Maikaalph smiled.
"All right, but what about the adventures you had? Did you need to get rescued?"
Sindahir glared at him.
"No, I did need alittle help at the start, but not later. If you want to, I'll tell you." Many of the listeners nodded so Sindahir started.

"It started four days after a little encounter with some Orcs. I had crossed into Rohan, the home of the horse lords and their king Eomer, when I saw a wild meara. "

Some of the humans were from Rohan and they knew that mearas normally didn't run wild. Sindahir countinued with her story.

"The meara seemed to know I needed help so she aloud me to get on her back. We were able to escape from the Orcs and arrived at Edoras, the main city of Rohan. As I rode into the city, the people gave me strange looks until I dismounted and walked into the Golden Hall. There when I asked about the reaction I received, Eomer explained that the meara I was riding always stayed to herself and never would let anyone ride her. He then said her name was Snowstar and that her father was Shadowfax. I stayed at Edoras for a week and rode away on Snowstar in the direction of the Gap of Rohan. After I passed through, I lost my way and wandered into what remained of Rivendell. I stayed there longer than I meant to for the only place outside of Gondor that I went to before this was Rohan and I was very curious about the history of my people. I was mainly interested in the place where the shards of Narsil were kept. After two months, Snowstar and I left and we wandred thourgh the wlidreness for sometime, sayed in Bree for a little, eventually coming to the Shire and we've been here since."

Sindahir stopped, she rarely ever talked this much about herself. She looked around at the group waiting for them to do something.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 2:43 PM January 11, 2004: Message edited by: Fire-Galad ]