The Green Dragon Inn - Part 9

[Child of the 7th Age]

Piosenniel's post


Green Dragon Inn Facts:

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

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

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

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

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

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

Before her, the Innkeeper was Piosenniel, and before her it was Dwarin, the Dwarf.
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Other ongoing characters in the Inn:

Ruby Brown, Hobbit – not married – server and maid

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

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Ongoing characters from outside the Inn:

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



No 'SAVES' are allowed in the Inn.


With the exception of the Innkeeper and the Moderators, no OOC (Out Of Character) comments are allowed in the Inn.

Only the Innkeeper, Amanaduial, or the Moderators move the timeline for the Inn forward.

Visitors to the Inn will need to read the posts that come before theirs to get an idea of what time it is in the Shire, what the weather is like, and what is happening.

Please be familiar with the rules for the Inn and Games in The Red Book of Westmarch, the first topic in the Shire.
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IT IS NOW VERY EARLY MORNING IN THE SHIRE.


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Child's post:

Two Important Notices:

1. I am transferring over the fire posts from the old board. If I inadvertently left anyone off, please send me a pm and I will correct the error.

2. There is a fire in the Inn. Read the earlier posts. Please have your own post reflect this. We would appreciate your help in combatting the fire! If you want to do a post that is unrelated to that, make sure to state that you are on the upper floors of the Inn, not in the Common Room or near the kitchen.

Thanks.

Cami Goodchild, Shire Mod (Child of the 7th Age)

[Child of the 7th Age]

Hama of the Riddermark's post:

Hama stirred in his chair, the yelling of Hawthorne had awoken him, and he opened his eyes drearily, then he heard what she was saying..."Help, Help, the inn's on fire!' rang out clearly in his ears and it took him a second to comprehend the meaning...as soon as it was comprehended and his sleep-dulled mind realized that he had to help, he leapt up off his chair and dashed outthe door, hurling it against the wall with a loud bang. He raced down the stairs, trying to go quickly and trying not to his his head at the same time...

As he burst into the common room he saw Hawthorne shouting at the top of her voice and a few tears were in her eyes. She looked helplessly up at Hama...Hama shook his head and ran into the kitchen, barging the other people out of the way who were crowding around, trying to get a look at the blaze themselves, Hama took a step into the kitchen and recoiled. The smell was so bad and the smoke so high he coughed violently. He spotted the cooking pan on the stove and made towards it...

Seizing a towel off the sideboard he hurled it over the pan, but it simply incinerated in seconds. Hama coughed again, another idea formed in his mind...Seizing the pan by the burning handle he swung it round once and hurled it out of the window, it rolled down the garden, leaving a trail of burning oil, and eventually bounced onto the road, where it continued to burn violently. The trail of il on the grass soon went out, and let a high column of smoke climb into the air...

Hama cried out in pain, the oil had burned right through his leather gloves and burnt the palms of his hands, he clutched them at his waist and gritted his teeth. Looking around he saw several hobbits with bemused faces, and the burning wooden surroundings...the wooden beams had caught, as had a few of the wall posts...

Hawthorne poked her head round the corner gingerly...

[Child of the 7th Age]

Angry Brandybuck's post:

Angry sauntered down the raod on the way to the Green Dragon Inn to see Crystal. After the scare earlier in the evening, Hama had advised that it would be best for her to stay at the Inn with her protection for just one night. He had gone home not having enough money for a room.

As he approached the Inn he was aware of a vague sense of commotion. It didn't interest him much, he was far to calm to get worked up about a commotion in an Inn.

He was stopped short in his path by a ball of fire crashing past him into the road. He stood in shock for an age before looking where it had come from. He traced a trail of destruction all the way up the beer garden to the kitchen window, where Hama was standing, seemingly in pain.

Angry got the idea that the crowd surrounding Hama probably wanted him to do something. He looked at the burning pan, the singed hairs on his feet, the shouting crowd, the burning pan again. Slowly the look of confusion melted from his face leaving a gleaming smile, I am so clever he thought.

He bent down and grabbed a couple of handfuls of dirt and threw them onto the fire. A few more of these and the blaze was soon controlled, and nearly out.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Piosenniel's post:

Buttercup and Ruby
‘What’s that I smell?’ cried Buttercup, sitting up in her little bed. She picked up one of her pillows and threw it at the still sleeping form of Ruby. ‘What!’ came the muffled reply as Ruby pulled her covers over her head. ‘It’s not time to get up yet, is it.’

‘Well you’ld best get up and get your short shanks moving.’ Buttercup threw Ruby’s dressing gown at her as she wriggled into her own. ‘There’s smoke drifting up from the kitchen. Lots of smoke! We’ll be burnt to crisps if we don’t get out of here!’ Ruby was up in less than a wink, jamming her arms into the robe and taking off for the back stairs.

‘Wait! Don’t go down that way! That’s where all the smoke is coming from,’ cried Buttercup. The serving girls’ rooms were above the kitchen area and accessed by a small, private stairway leading up from the kitchen. They ran to the window in their room, noting the people gathering in the back yard below. ‘You there!’ yelled Buttercup to the auburn bearded Dwarf just rushing back toward the kitchen’s door, a bucket, with water slopping out as he ran, grasped firmly in his hands. ‘Put down the buck, Sir, and steady this so we can climb down.’

Over the windowsill came the cascading rope ladder that Cook had made them put there when they had first arrived. Secured by stout hooks on the sill’s inner edge it reached nearly to the ground. Buttercup motioned for Ruby to start down first, then quickly followed.

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[Child of the 7th Age]

Crystal Heart's post:

Crystal heard the yelling and had ran downstairs to see if she could help. Her only instinct was to throw water upon it, but she knew that sometimes that could fuel the ever growing dangerous fires.

She saw Angry and smiled in delight. He had come back for her and she was so grateful.

"Angry!" Crystal called as she ran over to help him.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Fool of a Took's post:

Grimm of the Riddermark

Grimm suddenly woke up. What's that? He smelled something. He qucikly ran out o the bed and looked around. He couldn't hear anything, but it was smelling smoke.A fire?! He opens the door to his room and looks out. It smelled much more now. He could hear someone screaming downstairs. He ran inside and quickly got dressed. He ran down the stairs and saw many worried faces standing there. "What's going on?!" he shouted. He looked around himself. I wonder where Cree is. I hope she is safe. He almost got paniced as he couldn't find her. He asked many of the people 'Have you seen an elf around here? Her name is Cree!'. Everyone shook their head and said that they haven't seen her.

Someone shouted "Everyone get outside, the place is on fire" Many of the people started screaming and ran out in panic, yet Grimm remained. A hobbit passed him and said 'Hurry!'. Grimm wanted to see if Cree was at her room, but that would be foolish to run in there now. She must be outside! He turned and ran out.

Outside many stood and looked at the Inn. Some of them were crying others just chocked and didn't say a word. Grimm looked everywhere outside for Cree, but she seemed to have disappeared. He was out of control, his heart began to beat faster.He couldn't find her. He screamed out his fear and sorrow that she would die. He fell to his knees and looked at the Inn. A man laid a hand on his should and said "You must help us fighting the fire! Here, take this and go get some water!" The man gave him wooden bucket. Grimm rose up and ran to the well a few metres away. Cree must be alright, my heart tells me that she is! So he started helping the others to fight the fire.

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[Child of the 7th Age]

Feared Half-Elf's post:

Elkamia was woken by the stench of heavy smoke, and leapt out of her bed. Throwing on some clothes, she ran down the stairs to the kitchen, where the fire seemed to be.

Most of the guests were out now, and she floowed them. She could do more to help if she was outside. Grabbing a bucket that was half hidden by earth and filling it at the well, she proceeded to help the others throw water at the blaze.

"Wonderfull." She though, as she threw water. "The day I stay here is the day it goes up in flames. My cursed bad luck. At least it got me out of bed earlier."

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[Child of the 7th Age]

Primrose Bolger's post:

Kiera had been awake since first light – picking at the remains of her last night’s meal. She’d hauled up the basket of food the old man had left for her last night to her perch on one of the broad limbs of the oak tree in the front yard of the Inn. It was delicious! And the hot tea had given her a warm feeling from head to toe.
She was just thinking of making a dash to the pump at the front of the Inn to fill her now empty flask, when she heard cries coming from the windows that were being flung open along the front and side of the Inn. Dark, smoke roiled out, and the smell of burning grease assailed her nostrils.

Curious, she climbed down from the tree and ran to the small copse of beech that grew on the west side of the Inn. From there she could see a number of people of all sorts milling about near the well that stood in the back yard, buckets in hand. And a lone Dwarf holding a rope ladder as two kuduks climbed down to safety.

Putting aside a small bit of her native caution, she crept closer behind a screen of low bushes that shielded the kitchen garden, watching the bigger folk and the kuduk sort things out in the yard beyond. A strangely wonderful place, this Green Dragon Inn. Elves, and Men, and Dwarves. And the little folk. Pulling her cloak about her, she huddled in behind the bushes, wondering if this were a daily occurrence in this strange land.

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[Child of the 7th Age]

Amanaduial the Archer's [post:
Shadow of Starlight

Aman drifted slowly out of sleep, a strange sensation itching at the insides of her nose. She sniffed a few times, hoping to clear it...and sudden realisation dawned. The Innkeeper's eyes snapped open and she threw back her bed covers and stood, all in one movement. Running through the dark room to the door, she flung it open, grabbing her sleeved cloak from a peg as she went and pulling it on over her nightdress. Running down the corridor, she came out in the Common Room where utter chaos reigned, people running around and shouting, some angry, some authoritative, some wide-eyed, all scared and fighting for the door.

The smoke was much thicker in here, and Aman waved a hand in front of her face trying to clear it. Looking around, her eyes suddenly widened as she caught sight of the kitchen door - and more importantly, the thick black smoke flowing under the bottom and around the sides. Hastening towards it, she nearly put her hand on the doorknob, before realising it would already be scaldingly hot to judge from the amount of smoke issuing from it. But from inside she could hear a sound...was that a voice?

"Hawthorne..." horrible realisation struck Aman. Had that been a voice, and was it that of the young hobbit? She hadn't see her in the crowded Common Room... "Hang on, Hawthorne, get to the window!" she yelled through the door, then coughed again, more violently this time. Turning to the chaotic Common Room, she bellowed with all the authority and power she could muster, "Get into two lines to go through the doors! You - yes, you, the hobbit with the hat - for goodness sake, put down the ale tankard, man! - open up the other door. The catch at the corner..."

Aman was struggling to be heard and the hobbit was obviously confused, tired and, from the look of his eyes, even redder than most, suffering from a hangover. Fighting her way to the front with yells of "MOVE!", the Innkeeper managed to get to the front and, undoing the catch with hands that suddenly felt like pillow cases, she flung open the second door. The crowd surged forward gratefully and Aman was pushed out of the way, only able to watch, fearing some poor souls were going to get trampled. But this was no time for courtesy; reaching forward, she grabbed one man roughly by the shoulder, recognising him as the Rohirrim man, Grimm.

"Grimm, please - go around the side to the kitchen door. Do you know where it is? A red door - oh look, you can't miss it. Just get it open, take someone else if you need help-"

"Cree, have you see Cree?!" he interrupted, his eyes wide. Aman, frustrated, let him go. Looking frantically around the room, Aman couldn't see the familiar faces of Ruby or Buttercup, and what's more, their room was almost above the kitchen. Seeing the competent looking hobbit lass from the night before, she pulled her back from underneath the feet of the two panicked Big Folk who looked about to trample her.

"You, what's your name?"

"Asphodel Hamfast, miss." The girl's eyes were wide, but she answered politely, keeping her head.

"Asphodel - do you know your way around the Inn?"

The hobbit nodded. "Somewhat, miz Aman. Can I help?"

Good girl... "You know where the guests' rooms are, Asphodel?" A nod from the hobbit lass. "Could you run up there and bang as hard as you can on the doors of all the rooms, shouting as loud as you can that there's a fire?"

Asphodel nodded again, a determined look in her pretty, dark eyes. "As you say, Miss." Darting away, Asphodel was soon lost to the crowd. Aman didn't have time to check whether the hobbit got to and up the stairs, as she turned to go towards the servants' quarters. She still hadn't see Ruby or Buttercup, and what if they hadn't woken up for some reason? Cloak flapping around her and hair flying, Aman set off at a run.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Hama of the Riddermark's post:

Hama started to make towards the door to get out, but the burning framework collapsed in front of him, blocking the door. He saw Hawthorne scampering away and cursed. He looked around franticly as the flames grew higher and higher around him. The smoke was asphyxiating and he gagged and retched, falling to his knees as he choked. "No" he thought "stand up, lying down makes you die faster.

The flames licked at the ham of his cloak, which began to catch fire. Hama jerked it away quickly, but it was a losing battle. Hama looked up to the ceiling and saw the burning roof creak. "Oh no..." he thought...

The bundle of burning frangments came down in a fireball onto Hama and he cried out in agaony. He flailed around and tried to bat out the flames, but it was hopeless. All his clothes were alight now, and his skin was burning. Using the last of what energy he had he ran at the window and dived. The glass shattered under his weight as he tumbled into the beergarden. A hobbit saw the flaming man come out of the window and lie still and shouted "Over there! Look, over there!"

[Child of the 7th Age]

Hawthorne Brandbuck:

Hawthorne sat in the back courtyard of the Inn holding her head in her hands and rocking back and forth. The small hobbit was moaning deliriously, "What have I done? What have I done? Even Uncle Merry can't get me out of this!"

Then she sternly pulled herself together. "What a mess! I've got to get help!" Running into the stables, she vaulted onto the back of a horse and took off at a gallop, disappearing down the lane in the direction of Hobbiton and Bag-end.

A short time later, in response to Hawthorne's summons, a large contingent of hobbit helpers came running and riding up the road heading straight for the Dragon, their arms loaded down with pails of water. Samwise Gamgee rode at the head of the group on his pony Billie-lad, with Shirriff Halfred and Dumpling coming up just behind him. Amaranthas, one of the the oldest hobbits in the Shire and reputed to be a fine healer, came bumbling up in her cart, bearing her kit of herbs and other medicines.

Once Hawthorne had reached Bag-end and blurted out her painful news, Mayor Samwise had acted quickly in calling for extra help. Riders on horseback roared up and down every lane in Hobbiton and Bywater, urging the folk to come out and join the fire brigade. There was a large bell on the grounds of the Inn. Two of the younger hobbits were tugging down on the rope as hard and fast as they could to make sure everyone heard the summons to come out and help.

Within a short time, Samwise had organized a bucket brigade that started at the back door of the Inn and snaked down all the way to the Pond. Elves, hobbits, and men formed a single line, passing the pails of water forward and back as quickly as they could. The bravest of the folk went into the Inn itself to battle the flames that were crawling up the walls of the kitchen and spreading into the Common Room. Others climbed on top of the Inn using ladders, removing the thatching over the kitchen with large scythes to make sure that the fire did not blaze up on the roof. Very, very slowly, they began to make a bit of headway.

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Amaranthas had gotten down from the cart with Hawthorne dismounting from her horse and coming up to offer her help. "You're the one who started all this?" the older woman barked to the younger.

"Yes, maam. I made a terrible mistake. I tried to do something I shouldn't have done without someone helping me."

Amaranthas scowled and shook her head, "Then you'd best help me tend to these sick ones, since you're partly responsible for them being here." Hawthorne meekly nodded and went to work, doping everything that Amaranthas told her to do.


The two hobbits hastily made their rounds to anyone who needed medicine or water, laying out pallets on the other side of the road and administering herbal salves in cases where it was needed. Hawthorne lugged a water bucket around with several cups so those fighting the fire could quench their thirst.

The only person seriously injured seemed to be Hama whose coatails had indeed caught on fire until someone had doused him with a pail of water. Fortunately, the flames had only singed his body, but he was still in considerable pain. Gently, they laid him out on one of the pallets. Hawthorne looked on while Amaranthas tended to the needs of the Man.

"Will he be alright?" Hawthorne probed.

"I expect so, but he has some nasty burns. And he can't be feelng very well."

Hawthorne tried to push down her mounting feeling of guilt and concentrate on doing whatever she could to bring this mess under control.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Kransha's post:

Toby was barely awake. He had an ugly feeling that he was dreaming, but the vivid smells told him firmly that he wasn’t. He sighed groggily as he staggered around the smoky room.

“Someone say something about pipe-weed?” he murmured incoherently.

He stepped on something very hot, which triggered an extremely painful chain reaction in which the venerable hobbit shot up into the air, landed on something else equally hot, and began hopping very stupidly around the room until he came to rest on something partially cooler than anything else his bare feet had the misfortune to step on. He staggered again, trying to get his bearings and looked around. A mixture of murky gray and flaming red filled the room with brilliant colors. In his not-quite-awake state, Tobias at first wasn’t sure what he was seeing. After a second of deliberation, he came to the conclusion that it was fire.

“What in the Shire is going on here?” Toby knew the answer was obvious. The inn was on fire and his voice could barely be overheard in the confused din created by the crowd. Flame-induced mayhem was all around him, something Toby Hornblower was definitely not used to. Without waiting, he headed towards the burning wreck which he thought to be the door. His stomach began to wrench uncomfortably back and forth as the smoke began wafting around him. He began running and stumbling his way faster towards the charred opening.

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[Child of the 7th Age]

Arry's post:

So engrossed was she in the goings on in the yard that she did not hear his approach. Alwin stepped up beside the little figure and crouched down beside her. She startled and made to move away, but he laid his hand lightly on her arm. ‘We should help, Mistress Druedain.’ He nodded toward the Inn’s herb garden. ‘If you will gather them, I’ll see that those who need them will have the benefit.’

He thought she would bolt despite his words. But after a moment of consideration, dark brown eyes scanning his face, she drew up her hood and turned her gaze to the garden. In a brown blur she sped through the garden, her hands moving with a purpose among the plants. In a trice she had delivered them to him, and with a small nod withdrew. He stood, watching her form zig-zag through the smoke, moving from bush to tree, until the oak tree was at last reached.

His own path took him back to the road where an older Hobbit had set up a makeshift place to care for the injured and those overcome by nerves or the smoke. ‘Mistress,’ he said, drawing her attention and a mild glare as she turned from one of the singed Hobbits. ‘Here are some fresh herbs good for burns, and congestion, and overwrought nerves.’ He rolled up his sleeves and picked up a bucket of cool water and a fresh rag. ‘I have some small skill with healing. Let me help if I may.’

Alwin crouched down beside one of the wheezing Little Folk, his hands wiping the soot from eyes, nose, and mouth with the now wet rag. His voice was soothing, words almost inaudible as he drew the Hobbit to a sitting position. His strong fingers crushed a piece of root and leaf he had brought and popped it into the Hobbit’s mouth. Then, giving him a small dipperful of water and a few words of comfort, he moved on to the next one.

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[Child of the 7th Age]

Son of Bombadil's post:

Lewis woke suddenly from his short sleep to the sound of Ravon's voice, "Lewis did you hear that. I think someone said the kitchen was on fire." Lewis sat up quickly and he could also hear the shouts of 'Fire! Fire!' He quickly pulled on his boots, and gathered his stuff under one arm. "Quickly, grab your stuff and get outside!" he said in a worried tone to Ravon.

Lewis opened the door to smoke right in his face. The inn was definately on fire. "Cover your mouth, don't breathe in the smoke," He said, and motioned for Ravon to go out the door. They went down the hall, and Lewis knocked on doors and yelled about the fire as he went. Soon, they were down the stairs and out of the inn. He moved quickly to a safe distance away from the building and threw his stuff on the grass. He then looked for some way to help combat the fire immediately.

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[Child of the 7th Age]

Galadel Vinorel's post:

Galadel leapt quickly to her feet from where she sat cloaked by the fireplace as she saw the worried look on the face of the innkeeper, who had just entered the room. "Something is very wrong," she thought to herself. Then she heard Aman cry, "Get into two lines to go through the doors! You - yes, you, the hobbit with the hat - for goodness sake, put down the ale tankard, man! - open up the other door. The catch at the corner..."

The smell of burning wood filled the elf's nose. "A fire!" she thought to herself. Moving quickly, Galadel rushed over to Aman's side. "May I do anything to help, mam?" she asked as loudly as she could above the noise of the flames and the terrified people in the room.

Aman looked over at the elf, and was about to say something when Grimm interrupted her saying something about someone named Cree. Aman became busy again trying to deal with the guests and the fire.

Galadel, left to herself once more, noticed people carrying buckets of water to the kitchen, where the fire was now blazing harder than ever. One of the men had just thrown his water onto the blaze, and was about to return to the well outside. The female elf rushed over to him and bowed quickly, motioning to the bucket. He nodded back and pushed the bucket into her arms, and then ran off to help with the gathering up of the few children in the inn.

Rushing outside, Galadel followed some of the folks to where the well was. She then began to go back inside when she noticed a man laying on the ground in the beergarden. He was badly burned and was just lying there, moaning in pain. A hobbit and a few others were bent over him, not sure of what to do to help him.

Moving with amazing speed, the elf hurried over to where the injured figure lay. Galadel knelt down on the ground, placing her bucket beside her, and unstrung the bag of herbs from her side. Pulling out a few small leaves, she pushed them into the hand of a woman kneeling next to her. The lady looked up into the eye's of teh elf questionly. "Crush them and then put the pieces in the water," Galadel answered swiftly, and then went back to work.

The man wasn't burned very much at all on the front side of his body, yet his back was burned badly, since his cloak had caught on fire. Laying her cloak on the ground as a cusion for him, Galadel, along with the help of two hobbits, flipped the man gently over onto his stomach. Now she could see the true damage that the fire had done to him.

The man groaned, and Galadel began to sing a soft lullabye quietly to calm him. Slowly the man's muscles untensed and he stopped moaning in pain. His breathing slowed down and visions filled his mind of far away lands and beautiful woods. Everyone gathered around the injured man and the elf also calmed down.

Galadel then peeled the burned cloak off the man. When she took it off, though, it fell into dust. Astounded, she looked down at the burned back of the man's shirt and pants. In a few places the shirt and pants had both been burned so badly that his charred sking was showing, yet it was not as bad and she had feared that it would be.

Slowly, the elf poured some of the mixed water and herbs onto the burned skin of the man's back and legs, all the while singing her gentle song. The man hardly flinched at all while this was being done, for he was in a dream of wonder of delight, walking through a wood were the trees had golden leaves.

After she was finished, Galadel sat back on the grass and sighed, peering at the sleeping man. His breathing was soft and rythmatic, yet she knew that he would soon wake in pain. So, she kept singing, picking up a different tune. Every five minutes or so, she would place another layer of herbs and water on the burned places of his back.

After a little while Galadel and the others that were gathered around her carried the man to where a small, makeshift care area had been made by a hobbit. There the injured were treated by Galadel and many others, who were also uninjured, while inside the inn the workers fought the flames that tried to consume the inn.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Kransha's post:

The hobbit, his clothes singed and his feet in a world of pain, practically jumped out of the Green Dragon Inn, stumbling and running onto Bywater Road. He bounced and hopped like a very dull rabbit that wasn’t quite sure which way he was going. He made it past the gathering crowd of weary and beleaguered escapees of the wreckage, which was still burning fervently behind him.
“Water!” he cried very loudly, “Is there any water in this blasted place?”

He roared with discontent, tripping over his own baked hobbit feet and landing clumsily in a disoriented heap on the ground. He pulled himself up and began to fumble wildly through the crowd, rudely pushing a number of people aside in his quest for aid and some cold water to pour on the charred soles of his feet.

He slipped again and landing flat on his back, groaning in annoyance. He jumped up again and continued on his so far fruitless mission, still dancing about like a drunken idiot on the road, avoiding the injured folk lying or reclining on the ground. He could see some people helping the traumatized inn-goers and ran towards them heedlessly.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Linnahiril Tinnufinwen's post:

Asphodel ran up the stairs as fast as her little legs could carry her. She couldn’t believe the strange events of the evening. She had fallen asleep during the story telling, and had awoken, to discover that she was still in the Green Dragon, lying on a bench next to the left wall of the Story Room, covered in a bright green blanket. She had been alone, and utterly bewildered. But a note from her father on a table near the bench had explained the whole thing. Not wanting to wake her, they had asked permission of one of the bar maids to leave her there for the night, granted that she was well watched over, and was safe.

It was only after she had finished reading the note that she began to notice anything strange. She heard strange yells from the kitchen, and noticed that the air was beginning to be uncomfortable to breath. It was then that she had ran out and came in contact with Aman, the barkeeper.

Asphodel approached the first door in the long hall, which had Hobbit sized rooms, and began to pound on the door with her fists and holler at the top of her lungs. A chubby Hobbit man, nightcap still on his head and slippers on his feet, answered the door. He looked really grumpy.

“What in the name of the Shire is going on?” he grumbled in a low, throaty voice. “What is a Hobbit lass like you doing, going around and disturbing people’s rest at this hour?”

Asphodel’s yelling had woken several other Hobbits. Somewhere peering tentatively out of their doors, while others had shuffled out into the hallway.

“Forgive me, sir,” said Asphodel hurriedly, “but there is a fire in the kitchen. Everyone needs to get out as soon as they can!”

The Hobbits got into a crowd on the stairs, some whispering to each other, others beginning, slowly, to gather their things. All of them still seemed in shock. Asphodel didn’t care. She ran past them and into the next hall.

The Inn had so many halls of different shapes and sizes, and so many different doors and occupants, that by the time Asphodel was finished, she was huffing and puffing. The smoke had drifted upwards, now, and most of the Inn had been cleared, so she ran down stairs.

The fire in the common room seemed more under control than it had been. From the open Inn door, she could see that outside, all sorts of Hobbits and other creatures where trying their best to put the fire out. She surveyed the common room once more to make sure that no one else was inside, at least that she could see, and was about to go outside, when she was struck by a sudden thought. The green blanket, the one that had been on top of her when she had woken up, probably belonged to her aunt. The fire didn’t look to be too bad, so she ran quickly back into the Story Room.

She located the bench and went to retrieve the blanket. She had just picked it up, when she was suddenly startled by a strange roaring sound that sounded almost like running water. In another moment, the left wall of the Story room had burst into flames. The fire had obviously started up again. The force of the blast sent Asphodel sailing back onto the floor, and had slammed the Story Room door shut.

Starting to get slightly nervous, Asphodel ran to the door and placed her hand on the doorknob. She jerked her hand back, as a searing pain began throbbing in it. The door handle had been incredibly heated by the fire, and she could not touch it.

"How am I going to get out?" thought Asphodel in a panic, as there were no windows in the Story Room. She heard the loud cracking of wood, and jumped back just in time, as the Story Room door burst into orange flames, which began climbing the surrounding walls. The fire was all around her. There was no way out!

"Help!" screamed Asphodel in sheer terror. Each breath that she took burned her lungs, and she could no longer keep her eyes open, because of the stining smoke. "Help, someone, please!" she yelled again. "I'm trapped! Someone, please, help!"

She could feel the intense heat of the flames on her skin. She tried to call out again, but thick smoke filled her lungs, and she was overcome with coughing. It became harder and harder to breath, as though someone was pressing a cloth to her mouth and nose. The roaring sound of the fire was all around her, though she could not see it. Exhausted from coughing and lack of oxygen, she fell, face forward, onto the hard wooden floor. The smoke, slightly lessened from being close to the ground, allowed Asphodel to make one last call for help, before blackness overwhelmed her senses, and unconsciousness took her.

[Witch_Queen]

Cree
Cree began looking around. "Grimm where are you?" The inn was on fire around her. She didn't want to believe that it was really happening. "Avalon!" Cree began to scream with fright. She had never had to deal with being in something while it was on fire. She looked around to see if there was a way out. Cree walked towards where she thought was outside of the inn.

Suddenly something hit her shoulder. "Avalon don't scare me like that." Cree could see others fighting the fire. "We've got to help. The inn means so much to me and all the others." When she found Grimm she began to ask questions. "What do I need to do?" She knew she had to help in some way.

Aduthondiel
Aduthondiel looked around. She had to help in some way. She noticed that someone seemed to still be in the inn. "Is that Hama?" She ran towards the figure when she heard her horse coming towards her. "Count, it is good to know you are still alive."

Aduthondiel quickly mounted her horse and began to head towards the figure. "It is Hama." She wanted to help him.

[Regin Hardhammer]

Regin briskly toted an oak bucket filled with water he drew from the well. The cool water made a sloshing sound brushing up against the brim so that trickles streaked down the side as he walked. Suddenly, Regin heard the commanding voice of a young hobbit girl. Quite startled, the dwarf looked up and saw two young haflings lowering a rope ladder from a window.

“ I will be there right away,” yelled Regin. The dwarf dropped his pail on the ground, spilling the water, and rushed to grab the edge of the rope ladder and steady it.

As Regin steadied the rickety rope ladder, the two girls quickly descended one trailing the other. Regin bellowed out as the two hobbits climbed down, “ You two be careful. Wouldn’t want the fragile hobbit lasses to get hurt. Careful now.” They were a whole foot shorter than he was and looked to be a bit thin and spindly by dwarf standards.

A few feet before the middle of the ladder, a frayed rope snapped and the girls tumbled down. Regin caught them both as the ladder fell to the ground. He admonished them halfheartedly, “ Now I told you two to be careful, but does anybody listen to Regin? Oh it wasn’t your fault anyway, that was a decrepit ladder, and it was bound to break any day. Things always break when you most need them, so I suppose now would be the most logical time.”

Regin set the two hobbits down gently onto the ground. The inn burned as people tried to extinguish the fire with the pails of water from the bucket brigades. All he had wanted was a pint of ale; was that too much to ask? Boy, I must have come at a really bad time, just my luck. Plus, some of the folk in the neighborhood were having a hard time finding the Inn, which seemed to him a very strange thing since they were all oldtimers around here.

Regin asked dryly, “ So tell me does this sort of fire thing happen often, or am I just lucky. Are you two all right? Good, I’m glad. You should check your rope ladder before you have to use it for an emergency. Who knows what might have happened if I had not been there to catch you.? I must fight the fire now. Goodbye young hobbits.”

Regin picked up a bucket and started walking towards the well, which was lined with members of the brigade refilling their buckets. Then he remembered something he wanted to ask. Halfway towards the well he set down his empty bucket and turned back towards the two young hobbit girls who were still standing next to the window.

He went over to them and asked, “ By the way, do you know of another little hobbit lass, about as tall as you? I saw her in the kitchen when the fire started; she was making breakfast. I judged from the bunt eggs and charred bacon that she wasn’t too good a cook. She looked like she had never cooked before in her life. I am almost sure that she was the one who started the fire. All this mess over such a little hobbit. It is truly amazing. You don’t know whom I am talking about, do you. Is she a friend of yours?”

[Angel_Queen]

Ravon followed Lewis. "Theres got to be something we can do." She looked around and saw a couple of buckets. She quickly ran over to them. "Here Lewis, this might help." She handed Lewis the bucket and began looking for some water.

"We should follow them." She grabbed his hand and headed towards where the others were going. Ravon found the well and began to fill it up when she heard something from behind her. She quickly turned back around and accidently she spilled the bucket of water all over Lewis. "I'm sorry. At least you won't catch on fire." She tried her best to make the fire seem like a dream but she couldn't. It seemed to real to her.

She filled the bucket back up with water and waited for Lewis before she went back to the fire. They can't loose the Inn. It means so much to them. It just can't burn down. Ravon thought she heard screams coming from the fire. But she realized that she was just hearing things. "Its just the wind. Where's a good rain when you need one?"

[SonOfBombadil]

Lewis took the bucket that Ravon handed to him, and ran with her to the well. As she pulled her bucket out, she seemed to get startled and dumped her bucket onto Lewis. "I'm sorry. At least you won't catch on fire." said Ravon. Lewis said nothing in reply, which was odd for him. The bucket of water had given him an idea. Won't catch on fire... Lewis thought he heard a scream, and he knew what to do.

Ravon had just pulled another bucket out of the well, when Lewis grabbed it and dumped it over his own head. "There might be someone in there still. I thought I heard a scream." Lewis said to Ravon. He ran towards the inn, he was going inside to see if there was anyone still in it. Someone grabbed his shoulder, it was Ravon. "Lewis..." "Don't worry Ravon, I'll only be a couple of minutes." Lewis ran into the black smoked entrance, unsure if he would find anyone or not.

[Amanaduial the archer]

The bucket chain was working well and fast, and most of the fire was going down, but one wall, the one nearest the kitchen, was consumed by flames. These licked greedily through the Common Room, filling it with choking smoke as Aman entered, breathless, a hankerchief clamped over her mouth and nose. Despite her fears, the three hobbit servers had got out, but the Innkeeper herself was another matter as came down from fetching them. But she was not going to let anyone, even in a sleepy little hobbit Inn, perish in the flames, and was determined that before she left, everyone else would be safely out.

Most of the guests, it seemed, were out, many of them going out of the windows and supervised by a few men on the ground below. But there was that sound again...like the one she had heard before...but louder, more real, even beyond the sound of the creaking wall and the flames. A small, thin voice, desperate...

Aman peered through the smoky room, her green eyes vivid with smoky tears, looking for some sign of movement. And there it was...a bright cloth, the green strange in the flame-filled cavern of this side of the Common Room, waving...then it fell. Aman had only seen it for a second, but that was enough; picking up her skirts with one hand, covering her mouth with the other, she darted between fallen tables and chairs towards the source of the movement. There, curled protectively into a ball in the corner, was a small hobbit lass - Asphodel. A wave of guilt rushed over the Innkeeper - if it wasn't for her, Asphodel might have been out by now. Rolling the girl over, she looked her over for any immediate signs of burns or breaks which would stop her from being moved, but there were none, luckily - and she was still breathing, thank the Valar. Bending into a squat, Aman picked the girl up beneath her elbows and managed to hold her in the way one might hold a small child, although her head was lolling over her shoulder. She tied the handkerchief quickly around the girl's own mouth to prevent more of the choking smoke from getting in then, tightening her grip, she ran back out through the burning room. But wait...

Aman knew it was stupid and rash, and that she was not only endangering herself, but Asphodel as well, but her business-like side came over her. Diverting her course slightly towards the bar, she grabbed the till, propping it firmly under one arm, then ran as fast a possible, even as the wall nearest the kitchen creaked and fell. Ashes and sparks and soot were everywhere, falling behind the Innkeeper and her burden and over them, as Aman sprinted, one arm shading her face and Asphodel's, the other clinging to the till, out through the door into the fresh, clean air...

[Fool Of A Took]

Grimm of the Riddermark

As Grimm saw Cree he felt relieved. He smiled to her and hugged her. "I am so happy you are alright. I was so worried!" he said and smiled again to her. He looked back at the Inn that was totally on fire. "I don't know what you can do right now, ask Aman if she needs something, I must help the others to get water and fight the fire now!" he continued. He hugged her again and ran to the people that fought the fire. He grabbed a bucket and ran to the well. He could hear a hobbit scream as he got a little bit burned when he got to close to the fire. Grimm quickly filled the bucket with water and ran to the hobbit. "Be still!" Grimm said and tried to hold him down. "My hands!" the hobbit screamed. The hobbit had got a red marking of the fury fire. Grimm bathed the hobbits hand in the bucket and then helped him up. Grimm took up a piece of fabric he had in his pocket and laid it around the hobbits hand. The hobbit bowed and thanked him. Grimm told him to go back and get some more water on hit. He turned to the Inn and casted the water to the fire. The fire has grown strong! This will be hard!

"Are everyone safe? No one is left in there?" Grimm asked Aman as he passed her when he was getting some more water. His hair was wet and heavy, his gaze was blurred and he could barely stand up. The smoke was overwhelming. He coughed and looked up at Aman that seemed scared. "It will be alright, Lady Aman" Grimm said and laid a hand on her shoulder. He was sweaty of the all the warmth. A few of the smaller hobbits were sitting on the ground. A hobbit child was crying and her mother seemed tired and afraid. All the sorrow, Grimm could feel the shadow coming back to him. Sorrow and griev. An evil circle that returns when there is fear and innocent people are in danger, the feeling of losing someone hurt, Grimm knew about it. He coughed and rubbed his eyes so he could see proper. I must be strong!

[piosenniel]

‘In the kitchen!’ squeaked Buttercup. ‘Making breakfast!’ The tips of her ears were a violent shade of crimson. ‘She nearly burns the Inn down on us, and he calls it making breakfast! Friend, indeed!’ Buttercup stomped off toward the front yard of the Inn, a rather murderous glint in her brown eyes.

‘Best you leave her to me,’ said Ruby, as Regin called after the retreating Buttercup. ‘She never took much to that new girl, Hawthorne – the one you saw in the kitchen. And now this,’ she said, waving a hand dejectedly toward the smoke and dying flames. ‘This will be the straw that breaks the donkey’s back.’

Ruby turned to hurry off after her friend, mouthing thanks to the kind Dwarf. ‘I’ll see you get a flagon or two on the house, Master Regin,’ she called out loudly to him as she ran after Buttercup. ‘That is,’ she muttered, ‘if we have a house . . . or any ale for that matter! By the Gaffer’s britches! I hope someone remembers to save the barrels of ale and bottles of wine in the basement . . .’ Her tired legs were protesting the chase, as she kept Buttercup’s back in view.

‘Hawthorne better thank her lucky stars the lass isn’t armed,’ thought Ruby as she came up on the two.

There was Buttercup, Hawthorne’s arm gripped firmly, allowing no escape. Buttercup’s lips were moving rapidly as she glared at the other Hobbit, all the while shaking her finger within inches of poor Hawthorne’s nose.

[Hama Of The Riddermark]

Hama sat up and wrenched his own shirt off. He winced as large portions of skin came with it, leaving his back tatooed with red, juicy muscle. He tried to stand up, despite the urgings of the people around him, and swayed slightly as he stood. He set off at a slow walk to the place where Buttercup, Hawthorne and Ruby were standing. As he glanced again at the burning building he had visions of his own home as he had found it on his return, blackened and barren. He took his shirt, dunked it in a pail of water and put it back on, the raw skin of his back was soothed slightly by it and he smiled weakly.

Striding over to Buttercup he wheezed out "Leave her, lass. Whatever you say to her, however you reprimand her, there is still a fire, and no amount of punishing will change that. I suggest that punishings be saved for after the fire is out, and until then you two should work together with the others to get it out." Hama nodded curtly and started to walk away to join the water bucket line...

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

Snaveling had watched the blaze consume the lower portions of the Inn with interest, but as the inhabitants flooded out an idea began to formulate itself in the recesses of his mind. He settled his weary back against a convenient tree and drew his tattered cloak about him. As the sun rose bringing the new day, he shrunk from her rays and kept to the shadows where he sat like an ancient statue of hewn grey stone, his scruffy beard a black and twisted lichen clinging to his hard and emotionless face.

It had been days since he had eaten a decent meal and the Road from the South, when he had used it, had been long and lonely. He had hoped that the folk of this land would be more trusting -- or at least more easily fooled -- than those he had been through on his journey. Stories of a fat rich land called Shire, where the denizens were small, simple and stupid, had been coming to his ears for years. Snaveling had heard the tales of the Mighty Ones who had gone away South and overthrown the Dark Lord; he had heard how they had returned and led the silly folk of this land against the Men like him -- Men with ambition, and who hungered for new opportunities -- but he did not altogether believe these tales. Looking at these halflings now, as they ran about in disarray and panic at the sight of some flames, he believed them even less.

Amongst the general panic there was some sign of order and discipline, but these were largely by the visitors: a Dwarf rescued some halflings with a ladder, while an Elf tried to organise the healing of the wounded. There were other Men there, but they looked all too much like the Men Snaveling had fled all those years ago: the dreaded Horsemen of Rohan, and the tall warriors of Gondor.

Eventually, the flames began to subside as the rescuers' efforts became a bit more co-ordinated. Snaveling rose up and slipped out of the copse of trees like a shadow. He passed into the smoke and reek of the flames without flinching -- he was used to such things and hardly felt them now -- and stepped through the first open window he could find. His eyes took a moment to adjust to the dark, and he had to hold a corner of his cloak over his mouth. The smell of burning grease came to his nose and made his mouth water. He followed the smell into the remains of the kitchen, where he scavenged what food he could from the pantry: two badly burnt loaves of old bread and a joint of meat that had been raw when the fire started, but which now dripped and sizzled as though straight from the oven.

Tucking his breakfast beneathe his tunic, Snaveling turned and left the kitchen to see what else he could turn up that might be to his advantage. He moved into the Common Room, all the while keeping out a watchful eye for the people moving about outside. The smoke was, if anything, much worse in here but he kept low and felt about with his hands. There were cries for help from somewhere nearby, and he froze in fear that he had been discovered, but within seconds the cries faded and then stopped. Just as he was about to give up on the search he felt something small and metallic beneath his grasping fingers. Without waiting to identify it, he put it into his pocket.

A sudden noise alerted him to the entrance of several people through the front door. Afraid of being caught in the Inn without any reason for being there, Snaveling slunk back through the kitchen and found his way out through the back hall. He stepped into the sun and squinted with dismay at its brightness. With one last quick look around, he ran for the trees, clutching the greasy food to his body. As he reached the safety of the shadows he remembered the prize that he had put into his pocket. He was just beginning to wonder what it was when he heard a yell that was clearly directed at him. He froze and spun about to face whoever was calling to him.

[Roa_Aoife]

Roa had walked a long way from the shelter of the wild. Being raised as a Ranger of the North had it's advantages, though most of her kin now delt in Gondor with the King. She had traveled a long way to get to the Shire. Now she would stay at the Green Dragon, a good place to rest. Rest, however seemed a long way off. As she had neared the Inn, an all too familiar scent filled the air. She had run until the Inn was in sight and her fear confirmed.

She quickly joined the bucket brigade in stopping the flames. It seemed to late to save the structure, but Roa would not abandoned the task until all others had ceased. It was after many hours of passing the buckets that she realised the number of wounded. Determining that she was more service to them than the Inn, Roa quickly handed off her position to someone else. She then proceded to wander from one victim to another, using the best of her wilderness training of makeshift treatments. She laso did her best to calm the paniced and weeping. She hummed an old tune as she went, a cheerful she often used to keep her own spirits up on the road.

[Kransha]

After a great deal of loud complaining and grumbling, Tobias Hornblower, the aged gentlehobbit from Longbottom, was sitting on the grass that rimmed Bywater Road and fanning his crimson tinged feet. The soles of those feet were coated with charred skin, which wasn’t particularly irritating, except for the fact that he now couldn’t walk without causing himself pain. He looked at the fiery display of color blossoming from the Green Dragon Inn with a mixture of awe, disappointment, and confusion.

Slowly but surely, the fire began to slow its rapid and destructive rate, dying down due in part to the efforts of the people around him. It would have been harrowing indeed to see all these multiracial folk banding together to combat a common enemy, this chaotic natural force, but Toby was too busy mumbling about his poor, injured feet to care. He slowly rose, testing the strength of his tired legs. Lances of pain shot through his lower limbs and the soles of his feet tingled unpleasantly as he attempted to support himself on them. The pain wasn’t great, but Tobias loved making mountains out of molehills. He shook scorched debris from his hairy appendages and began to walk slowly back and forth, past the other escapees.

He looked to the line of men and women valiantly sending bucketfuls of water onto the ruin, now wheezing and coughing with smoke like a sick old man as the fire’s power waned. A gruff noise rising in his dry throat, the hobbit walked toward the water bucket line to find someone who had an inkling of what was going on. Suddenly an idea dawned on him. Despite raging smoke, he could probably get in and out of the structure with relative ease. There would be plenty of valuables, albeit a little damaged, still inside and completely unguarded, giving him the perfect oppurtunity to pilfer a chosen few.

Mustering up some courage and cunning, Toby ran around the bucket line and headed into the inn through one of the collapsed entrances. If anyone asked why he was inside, he had a valid and honest excuse. He’d left his pipe on a table in the common room.

[WarBringer]

[SIZE=3]Valthalion the Forgotten[/SIZE]

Valthalion walked up the lonely road, looking for a place to stay. A Youth of only Sixteen years, many shire-folk wondered why he walked thusly, a sword at his side, a bag on his back and an empty water skin in his hand. Stopping for a brief moment in order to ask for directions to the nearest inn, Valthalion continued his walk to his new destination, the Green Dragon Inn.

As he neared the location, a crimson light sprung up on the horizon, shadowed by a dense, black fog. "That is a fire, or i'm asleep!", bellowed Val, and he sprinted in the direction of the fiery beacon. There he saw a terrible sight-injured people everywhere, and a bucket brigade of brave folk trying to quell the fire's thirst. A young hobbit lass ran toward him and said quickly "Big Person, we need your help in order to stop this fire." That was all he had to hear. Throwing his sword and gear on the ground, Valthalion ran toward the burning building to help the exhausted people.

[Roa_Aoife]

The smoke was getting thick as more and more water dounced the fire. Roa moved closer to the building, directing those to shocked to move. At the sound of her voice a few broke out of the trance and moved away leading a few with them. Some required more force. One young man just stood there with glazed eyes, not moving. Roa imediately recognized as battle-shock. She'd seen it before. She also knew that he wouldn't be able to move on his own. Roa quickly strode over to him and hollared above the din. He didn't so much as blink. She grimaced as she brought back her hand and slapped him hard enough to knock him down. That registered. He blinked and looked up t her. She told him to get out of the way. He nodded and rose to his feet. Roa gave him a shove in the right direction, and whatched to make sure he made it to the safe hands of an elf that was applying medicines. Then she turned to the next victim.

A wave of smoke hit her in the face, and she hit the ground wheezing. Curse her smoke alergy! She would be no use if she couldn't breath. She kept low for a few more minutes untill she could breath again. She noticed a few people running back into the building. Fools! What do they think their doing? She got up to chase after them, another coughing fit seized her. She waited again, trying to gain control of her lungs agin as she pulled out a rag she had been carrying for use as an extra bandage. Roa tied the rag around her nose an mouth, then covered her head with her small cape. She got up to follow the wayward wanderes and force them back outside. Nothing was more valuable than their lives.

[Artalwen]

The door opens, and a tiny figure, almost what could be a child, enters, with a long green cloak covering, the hood over the face.
The hood is drawn back, and a small hobbit woman's face is revealed, long red hair slightly visible. She takes off the cloak and hangs it on the coat hanger next to her, reaching on her tiptoes for the nearest hook. She smooths out any invisible wrinkles on her deep blue dress, and looks around the room. It's noticible that she's a newcomer here, for she is very timid to completely enter the chatter that's inside.

She strolls over to the nearest empty table, made for the hobbit customers, and sits down to look at a menu. Gazing at the list, she finally decides on a drink of just warm milk. She looks up and searches for any sign of what could be an inn owner, but doesn't find anyone, not knowing who the owner could be.

************************************************** **
Artalwen,

Please check your pms.

Cami Goodchild, Shire Moderator (Child of the 7th Age)

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

Snaveling pulled the last bits of edible bread from the burnt shell of the loaves that he had taken from the pantry and gobbled them down. He then turned his attention to the joint of meat, cutting long strips of flesh from the bone with his knife and eating them with his fingers, pausing only to lick the juices from his fingers or to sponge them out of his beard with his sleeve. The bucket lines formed and the flames were slowly beaten down, and he watched with jealousy as a halfling and a tall Woman went into the building, no doubt intending to pilfer the treasures within that Snaveling had already claimed in his imagination as his own.

The outcry had not been for him, but for a ball of flame blowing out one of the Inn’s many windows. Such mistakes were the price of a guilty conscience, Snaveling knew, having had long experience with his own. At first he had been shaken by fear of discovery, but the food and his hiding place in the trees had done much to restore his confidence, and once again his mind turned toward the guest’s belongings. The guestrooms were undoubtedly on the second floor, which to this point had hardly been touched by the flames. If he were to have any hope of obtaining the goods left behind in the panic to evacuate the Inn, he had to find some way to make sure that the fire was not put out before the Inn was reduced to a pile of blackened timbers.

Snaveling was a sneak and a thief, but he was no coward and had great cunning when it came to his own welfare and gain. So it wasn’t long before he had decided to take some of the sparks that were blowing from the Inn and use them to begin a small fire in the dried twigs and bracken in the copse of trees in which he was hiding. When that fire was well established, he took one flaming twig from the pile and rushed over to a small bush that he had burning and crackling in no time. He flit from tree to bush to copse and soon had nearly a dozen small fires in a ring around the line of people attempting to beat down the flames that were consuming the Inn. So involved were they in their own concerns, none seemed to notice him, for which he thanked his luck and congratulated his quick wit.

Having completed his task, he was forced to move into the crowd of people before the Inn, for there was no longer any hope of safety in the surrounding trees, which would soon be fully ablaze. He moved to the edges of the crowd, hoping not to be noticed. Only then did he remember the metal object he had found in the Inn, and once more he wondered what it might be - but he did not dare take it out to examine it here as who knows what it might be, or who amongst these people might be its owner.

[Witch_Queen]

Cree
Cree looked around. She watched as Grimm began helping the others put out the fire. She didn't want to loose him. He meant the world to her. "It won't live to see another day." Cree knew the inn would soon be lost. What will happen when the inn goes down? "Avalon where will be go? I can't return to Eryn Lasgalen." The inn was like a new home to her. She couldn't return to a place where the council would persecute her. Cree felt herself become dizzy. The fire was only light to her now. "I can't. Not now." Her knees began to cave in. The ground was different than the floor of the inn was.

"No it can't be happening. Not now." Cree had succumbed to her curse. She fell to the ground and all light of the fire was lost to her now. Why now. They need my help. I can't loose Grimm. I must go back. Avalon flew up to the sky to try to locate Grimm. Cree didn't move the entire time that her closes friend was gone. The crow landed on Grimm's shoulder and began to speak to him in language that only a bird could understand. "You've got to help Cree she needs your help. But you can't understand me." Avalon knew that she was only a bird.

She took off towards where Cree was hoping that Grimm would follow her. "Whats wrong Avalon? Where's Cree." Avalon could understand him but he couldn't understand her. She began cawwing but stopped since there was no use. He can't understand me. Avalon landed on Cree's stomach and began cawwing louder. This time she wasn't trying to talk. She wanted someone to help Cree. Cree was the only "friend" to her. All the other crows paid her no mind.

Cree began to move but slowly. The pain in her side had increased when the curse had overtaken her. "Grimm.." Her voice was weak. The fire was now back to light for her. Her curse was no longer her friend. She hated it with a passion. I've got to get rid of it but how.

[Angel_Queen]

Ravon watched as Lewis ran into the fire. She didn't want him to get burned. She filled the two buckets up with water and began to carry them back to the fire. The buckets weren't as heavy as she thought. Ravon was use to carrying heavy things. After all she had trained with the men elves.

She began throwing the water onto the fire. She thought she could see Lewis but instead it was the flames. They seemed as if they were dancing. No matter how hard she tried she couldn't get use to the situation. She looked up to see that she had seen someone in the fire. The shadow of the person was getting bigger. "Lewis?" Ravon wasn't sure who or what it was.

Her heart stopped beating for a second when she noticed that Lewis had made it out of the fire. She couldn't stop now. She had to get back to getting water. As she got to the well she noticed a rock on the ground.
"My father rock, do you forget the kingdom of the fire?
The aeons grind you into bread.
Into the soil that feeds the living and transforms the dead."

She picked up another bucket of water and began to walk back to the fire. "The inn is lost to us now." She threw the water onto the fire and went back to continue getting buckets of water. [I[The inn maybe lost but our spirits won't die yet.[/I]

[Roa_Aoife]

Roa stumbled back out of the building, sputtering. She tore off the rag and cape and made it to open air, where she collasped. She hadn't seen any of the people who had rushed back inside, and the smoke had over taken her again. She looked at the Inn and realized that the lower level was about to succumb to the weight of the second story. She prayed to Eru that the fools made it out in time. She winced as she moved her arm. The burn wasn't serious- it wasn't even blistering- but it stung. Roa looked around and realized that most evryone was indistinguishable from that soot and ash covering them. The bucket brigade had rotated the front of the line to the back, where they could now breath.

Roa took a few more deep breaths before climbing to her feat again. So much for resting in the Inn. They would be lucky if any of the wood was salvageable. An idea struck Roa. The blaze was almost under control, and most of the victims weren't really wounded. Perhaps she could gather a few to ssend for lumber. With the response she'd seen from the Shire-folk, they could have enough matierials with in a day or two. She was about to go find Mayor Samwise- she'd heard a great deal about him from her lord Aragorn- when something caught her attention. Her eyes grew wide as she realized what was happening.

"Fire! It's spread over here!" she yelled in a hoarse voice. Some people heard and spread the alarm. Roa began picking up dirt and throwing it on the flames. Soon another bucket brigade had formed. How did it get to these bushes, she wondered.

[Fool Of A Took]

Grimm of the Riddermark

As Grimm helped to hobbit up a crow sat down on his shoulder. Grimm then saw that it was Avalon. "Avalon!" he said. The crow cawed and picked on his shoulder. Grimm began to understand that something was wrong. "What is it? What's wrong?" he asked. Avalon flew away and Grimm ran after as she continued cawing.Cree? She must be in danger, he thought. After a while Avalon flew down and alnded on someone that was lying on the ground. Grimm fell down on his knees and saw that it was Cree. He coughed. All the smoke made it hard to breath. "Cree?! Oh no! Not that curse again, not now." he said and lifted her up. He carried her back away from the fire a bit and laid her down. He ran after some water and bathed her forehead. Her eyes opened and she coughed. "Grimm....?" she said and her eyes rolled. Grimm bathed her forehead some more and tried to wake her. "Don't fade again, my Lady! Don't!" he said and his voice was worried. His gaze blurred as his eyes got filled with tears. He shook her but nothing happened. The fact that he couldn't help her to get rid of it was hard for him. He burried his face in his hands and got almost paniced of what he should do. He laid his forehead to the muddy ground and cried out his anger.

His hair was filled with mud and his face too. He continued bathing Cree's forehead in hope that she would wake up again. For some reason he began to think that this was his fault. He had left Cree, and she had faded. The curse took hard on her now because of the reason that she came to her too late to help her. He laid his on her chest and listened to her heart. She is still alive, so she must wake up soon The hobbit that Grimm helped passed by and said "What have happened?" Grimm shook his head and said to the hobbit "She have faded, she is sick." The hobbit felt sorry and said "Is there anything I can do to help?" Grimm sighed. "I am sorry, master hobbit, but I am afraid no one can do anything. We will have to wait for her to wake up." He looked at Cree's face that looked scared and sad. He stroke her cheek and smiled.

[Artalwen]

She continued to glance around, her blue eyes questioning about where an inn owner could be, and finally gave up on ordering something for now. Instead, she decided on staying in the inn for the night.

She went up to the front desk, and since her small size didn't reach over the top of the desk, the person working at the desk couldn't see her.

"Umm, excuse me?" her small voice tried to shout out, to get the person to see her. She stood on her tiptoes and shouted again. The person glanced up, but not seeing anyone, looked back down to whatever work was on the desk.

[Witch_Queen]

Cree began to wonder about what was happening in the real world. She felt someone touch her. Her body flinched. "Grimm? What's going on?" Though she didn't open her eyes she still knew who it was. Avalon had perched herself on Grimm's shoulder. Avalon was worried. She must come to. She must. Cree opened her eyes to see that it was Grimm who had touched her. "Don't cry my love. I am fine now." Cree wasn't sure what she was saying. The smoke from the fire must have been affecting her brain.

Avalon turned her head and looked down at Cree. "Avalon you're here two?" She wasn't sure who she saw beside of Grimm. "Whats going on? I remember that I was standing over there.." She paused. "But how did I get over here?" She could tell that Grimm had taken her away from the fire. She brought her hand up and softly touched his cheek. "Thank you." Her words were weak. She need sleep to replenish her deminishing strength.

[WarBringer]

It did not take long for Valthalion to realize that he was fighting a losing battle. The Inn would fall, despite the heroism and actions of the folk battling the fire. The bucket brigade had worked well for a time, but it just wasn't moving fast enough to combat the consuming fire. "All now seems lost, comrades, but we must fight on, at least to minimize the damage!" This shout wasmet by a roar of approval, and the pace of the buckets quickened. We may yet have a chance... , thought Val, and the young man continued to lend his strength to the cause.

Briefly, his eyes strayed from the blaze on the surrounding area. Somehow, a second fire had started in a few bushes nearby to the Inn. "Something isn't right," thought Valthalion. Leaving the brigade, he slowly walked in the direction of the fire. Already, a bucket line had started near the bushes. Val peered through the smoke toward the fire. For a split second, a shadow was visible to him, a small man looking from behind a tree. Just as quickly, it disappeared. "I must find out whether this happened by chance or by design", said he. Grabbing his gear, he snuck toward the fire.

[Hama Of The Riddermark]

Hama walked up to Cree and Grimm, he knelt down beside her and looked over at Grimm. "Still happening?" he asked. "Yes...so it seems..." replied Grimm. "She should see a physician, or at the very least lie down and have something to eat...but the only place to do both is burning to the ground as we speak..." Hama sighed. As Grimm moved he twisted, firmly resolved not to let Grimm see his back...

"I should help the water line..." Hama said..Grimm nodded slowly. As Hama got up he sighed and turned his back to Grimm as he walked away. The patchwork of cloth, skin and raw flesh put a worried look on Grimm's face, but soon Hama was in the waterline, working to help put the blaze out at the very front...Grimm shrugged, Rohirrim Hama was, ans some things, like reckless actions, couldn't be removed from some peoples minds...