The Green Dragon Inn #11 - The Last Chapter

[Kransha]

Oddly enough, Toby suddenly felt belated. Drowning in the irksome angst of his surroundings, hearing what sounded like an echo of his barely audible tune was at first startling. The hobbit realized that someone else was singing, but had transferred the key of the song to a more jaunted, brisk verse. The middle-aged Hafling wasn’t entirely sure whether this other, jocund fellow knew the Southfarthing song, or had simply picked it up from him. The way he went through the piece, jovial and brimming with a frothy confidence, but obviously stumbling over some of it, indicated the latter. He turned his head swiftly, snapping to one side and sending his hair flying as he caught sight of the new arrivals, who had taken up temporary residence by the dancing flames of the fireplace, bathing themselves and their drinks in its constant light.

Amazingly, Toby Hornblower actually felt the unaccustomed twinge of a grin creasing over his wizened features and a chuckle rumbling deep in his broad throat. Then, to his own great shock and muddled horror, he laughed aloud, watching as the bubbling foam in his ale tankard bubbled and shrunk from the sound of his voice, apparently protesting at the laughing Halfling. He pulled himself up on the rickety stool, almost tipping it and his ready mug, and hopped off onto the furnished floor, feeling strangely renewed. Sitting at the origin point of the festive verse was a quartet of Halflings, two looking exactly alike each other, save for their gaits and standings. One of the two identical hobbits seemed swollen to the point of explosion, while the other looked reserved, quieted by something. The other two were different, one more stern and well-postured were he sat, the final one similarly meek, but fervent in youth. The youngest bore a mild resemblance to Toby’s elder cousin, the thought of whom made Toby melt back into faded reminicense. But, he overlooked his mournful memories and jogged his way over to the hobbits resolutely. He was extraordinarily eager to see a good, plain group of simple Shire hobbits. He no longer had anything against foreigners, but he hadn’t seen the calming visage of a genuine Halfling before unseen in too long. The Dragon may have had its share of little folk, but elves, men, dwarves, and every sort of creature upon Arda save hobbits seemed to be slowly populating the place on Bywater Road, in this little region pockmarking Eriador.

Hurrying along through the murk of the crowd, gentle light that glowed luminously in the hearth flickered as soothed shadows danced over Toby’s face and eyelids. He proceeded at last to them, noting duly that they barely noticed him at first, or at least most did not. One looked up, his face almost slated with an expression of fear, which managed to amuse Toby. The hobbit began to leap up, looking apologetic for some reason that had escaped Tobias, but the Longbottom hobbit cut him off, gaining the attention of all four with his more typical, grandiose manner of speaking.

“Excuse me, good sirs. I couldn’t help but here your merry tune, and wanted to say that it was indeed a rousing verse. It’s been quite a time when hobbits have sung a song in this inn and yours most certainly did justice to the old tune. Well met, my friends.” Extending his gruff, dirt-clothed hand, Toby tried to widen his weak excuse for a smile. The one who’d been singing let his own hobbit hand shoot out and shook Toby’s with vigorous resolve, who was forced to yank his hand from the Halfling to extract it from his tight and energetic grip. He didn’t pull back, though, as he would’ve under most other existing circumstances. He gave the hobbit a swift and obligatory nod before turning to the others. “Tobias Hornblower the Third of the Southfarthing, Keeper of the best Pipeweed in all the Shire, at your service.”

[Nurumaiel]

"Blanco Brandybuck at yours!" Blanco took Toby's hand again and shook it. Posco gently pulled his brother away, blushing and murmuring inaudible apologies. He put his own hand out and shook Toby's with a shy little smile, and Blanco said, "This is Posco Brandybuck, my brother." He put a firm arm about Toby's shoulders and put him in front of Marcho. "And this is Marcho... Marcho Brandybuck, who is my first cousin once removed... I think. He might have been my second cousin." Blanco turned and began questioning Posco about it. Marcho shook Toby's hand and managed a gruff little smile. "It's good to see another hobbit here," he said.

Bingo stood of his own accord and approached Toby with that beautiful smile, his large blue eyes shining with friendliness. Blanco thought again what an odd-looking hobbit he was. A whole year and he still thought of it. Bingo took Toby's hand, gave a queer little bow, and said, "Bingo Cotton of Buckland. I am most pleased to make your acquaintance, sir." He paused for a moment to let Toby take in his name before speaking again. "I'm very glad you enjoyed my friend Blanco's addition to your song. It was a lovely song, I think." Whether Bingo meant Blanco's addition or the original words Toby could not tell.

Bingo pulled a chair out from their little table and gestured for Toby to sit down. "Please, sir, if you would, sit, and I will go get you a drink."

[Eowyn Skywalker]

Willow turned at the sound of wheels grating over the rough dirt road, and grinned at the sight of the dwarf coming down the road to the 'Dragon in his heacy cart. Dwarves had been a common enough sight in the Shire before, it didn't shock her to see him arive. "Good day to yeh, lasses," the dwarf greeted.

"Good day, sir. How are you liking this lovely morning? Beautiful, isn't it?" asked Mira, smiling softly, as she moved over to stroke the mule that pulled the dwarves cart.

Willow smiled, and bowed slightly. "Good afternoon, master dwarf," she said, a smile on her face, as the coolness from the rainfall waking her fully though, in the back of her mind, a sleepyness still tugged, and threatened to cause her a yawn, and again, she wished that night would come all the more swiftly. "I am Willow," she said, in way of an introduction. "These are my companions, Mira, and Lily. Welcome to the Green Dragon."

There were birds in the distance, though Willow listened to them only faintly, as they were still away in the distance, and she had other things to worry over at the moment. The clouds had cleared away, though, if one was to look beyond the trees that clustered near around the Inn grounds, they would see that the dark clouds still loomed on the horizon, threatening once again to release their contents upon the land. But for now the day was fair, and flowers began to peek their way from little crevices, and birds hovered in the sky, searching for the worms that would be drawn to the ground by the dampness.

There was still a chill though the rain was gone, and Willow found herself tucking in her green cloak around her, to keep the warmth in, and the chill out, though on her face, the mist was refreshing indeed. The walk had been a fine choice.

"And what do they call you, master dwarf?" she inquired politely.

[Alaksoron]

'Jean' walked briskly to the stables and made his way to a stall where a fierce-eyed gray stallion was prancing. Once again 'Jean' began to mutter under his breath, sounding angry. The stableboy had not even bothered to remove the saddle! Jean did so, dusting off a new blanket before draping it across the gray's back. Amongst a few frustrated expletives, Peony heard 'Jean' call the boy "little Curufin".

'Jean' produced a brush from inside his saddlebags and began to groom the horse expertly. After a moment he began to speak, almost as if more to the air than to Peony. "My father was a marvelous equestrian. He taught me horsemanship, including to ride barebacked. His name" referring to the horse "is Storm. I purchased him in Rohan. He has carried me safely for many years, and there is no truer horse in the Riddermark."

'Jean' put the brush away and dumped out the bucket of dirty water the stableboy had shoved in the stall, refilling it with a fresh flask from his bag. 'Jean' fed Storm an apple, and began to caress the stallion's long face, whispering to him softly in fluent High-Elven. It seemed to have a calming effect on the fierce prancer. Peony was sure if anyone else had come near that horse they would have benn bitten- or trampled.

Dîm cracked his neck on impulse. No longer something he did when he felt like it, it was a habit. Icy blue eyes shimmering in contrast to his golden beard he puffed a cloud of smoke from the mahogany pipe resting in the corning of his full lips. Watching it rise up into the moist cold sky, it was swept away from a cool breeze, chilling the dwarf.

"Some call me Silverrage, others Dîm, but you may call me Dîm Silverrage, or Dîm for short. Doesn't really matter to mehself really." the curious-acting humanoide riddled.

Dîm Silverrage snuggled down into the seat of his cart and shuffled his toes around in his leather boots, trying to remain comfortably warm. The breeze that blew one of his recent puffs of smoke(seven more were already made and gone in the mild gail after that) blew through the trees, yielding the cicadas buzzing tune and the solo of the songbird.

Turning back to the women below him, he let out another burst of smoke and shifted his face into a quizzical smile, eyebrows cocked up ward. His dwarven facade looking amusing, he spoke in the raspy and deep, but young sounding, voice.

"And whom do I have the pleasure of meeting on this fair day?", The dwarf questioned(with two more puffs)

[Kitanna]

Peony looked at Jean's stallion, Storm. It was a fine horse indeed. She went over to Surefoot's stall and fed the mare her apple. "I wish I could say Surefoot here was a horse of the Riddermark, but alas she was bred in Minas Tirith."

Peony stroked Surefoot's face. "Not one of the fine Rohan horses, but she has been a true friend to me for many years."

[Firefoot]

"And whom do I have the pleasure of meeting on this fair day?" asked the Dwarf. Lily frowned so briefly that unless one had been watching her they would have missed it. Didn't Willow already introduce us? she thought. Oh, well. Maybe he didn't hear.

"Nice to meet you, Master Dîm," Lily said, smiling once more. "My name is Lily, and this is Willow, and Mira." She surveyed Dîm up and down. He looked young for a Dwarf, but well-travelled. His cloak was worn and travel-stained. His cart was heavy-laden, presumably with packages from his travels. Lily had met several Dwarves in Bree, most of them journeying to and from their mines in the Blue Mountains. Some of them were good and polite folk, but others of them were down-right rascals. She deemed Dîm to be of the former group. Lily felt rather sorry for his mule though, pulling that heavy cart all by itself, and probably for long distances. She scrached the mule's whiskery nose, and when she stopped, he nudged her for more. Poor guy. Hopefully Dîm will be staying at the Dragon for a while - then he would get some rest, she thought.

"I suppose you will be staying at the Green Dragon, Master Dîm? Will you be staying long?" asked Lily. As she waited for his answer, she wrapped her cloak around her tightly against the chilly breeze that came up, bringing a heavier mist with it. I suppose it will rain again soon, she thought sullenly. It's not raining now, be thankful for that.

[Bombadil]

After Iadarion purchased the drink for the mysterious woman he turned back to see her acting very uncomfortable.

"Oh hey dol, look at you! You must be sweating you're so nervous! Fear not, shy one, I am not here to cause you any harm!"

Her untrusting eyes did not settle, but she pointed to his boots of yellow.

"Oh come now! Do you think I am Tom Bombadil? Last I looked, good ole Tom didn't have long blonde hair! No, i got these strands from my mother! For I am the son of the river and the forest!" He smiled and watched as the server placed 2 mugs on the table. "In my home of Eryn Lasgalen, they call me Iardarion, and so I have come to live by it! Now what be your name!"

He thought he saw a smile on the woman's face, but he was not sure whether it was good-natured or because she was nervous. He took the parchment that he had picked up and dropped it in front of her on the table.

"So," Iadarion said, "tell me of yourself."

[Arry]

Jack scraped the mud off his boots as best he could, then pushed on the heavy oaken door with both his arms. He turned for a brief moment and waved back at Alwin, grinning broadly as the old man motioned him on with a shake of his walking stick. He paused for a moment in the entryway, letting his eyes adjust to the dimmer light of the Inn.

There to his right along the wall was the big stone fireplace. Two large logs crackled and popped against each other, driving away the earlier dampness of the day. To one side he saw a number of Hobbit men, five in fact. There were smiles on their faces, and a sense of camaraderie in the way they greeted and spoke with each other. At one point one of them began to sing, his efforts greeted with a range of acceptance by his mates. And over there was an interesting looking fellow, green-cloaked and yellow-booted. A big smile wreathed the man’s features, hidden now and then by the generous cloud of smoke from his pipe.

‘Well, this looks like a pretty fair place old Alwin’s brought us to!’ he said out loud, to no one in particular.

A polite cough at his elbow drew his attention, and turning he found himself face to face with one of the serving lasses. Buttercup, she said, smiling sweetly at the young boy. And what would the young master be wanting at the Inn she continued.

‘That table over there by the fire – the one with the chair by the hearth. And cider for me please,’ he said, his eyes lighting up at the thought of the sweet drink. ‘Oh and a bowl of that soup I can smell all the way out here from the kitchen . . . and bread with some honey.’ Jack blushed as Buttercup as she laughed at his enthusiasm. ‘Will that be all, little master,’ she said grinning as she took him to the table and settled him in. ‘Or will you be saving any room for a slice of the apple tart I just saw Ruby take from the oven?’

‘Apple tart,’ he squeaked, his eyes gone wide. ‘Oh, yes please! I’m sure I’ll have room.’

The door to the Inn opened wide, and Alwin stepped in, blinking like an old owl. Jack stood up on the seat of his chair and waved him over. ‘Why it’s Master Alwin,’ said Buttercup, smiling as the older man approached. ‘Nice to have you back, Sir . . .’

[Crystal Heart]

Crystal got up from the table and headed out to the stables. She just didn't know if she could stay anymore. She wanted to look at the horses, to get a sense of freedom.

She walked in and noticed others, but didn't give them much thought. She went over to a horse that she had seen before and stroked its face softly. She over heard someone talking about a non true Rohan horse, but she didn't care. She had no other reasons to fear people from Rohan since her father's death. It just wasn't important any longer.

The disappearance of Angry Brandybuck made her incredibly sad. She had to wonder if he was with his parents and his parents-whom she had already met-had taken him and brought him back home. She was sure that it was it. They hadn't been very happy with the thought of a human woman staying in his hobbit hole, but they had been furious with the fact of their love for each other. Or that is what Crystal had originally thought. She had thought that they did love each other, that they would marry and live happily ever after. She had been wrong.

"Crystal?" A deep voice asked her as she stood there. She turned, her eyes widening. Arty, her Arty was standing there. Alive! There was no way possible. She had seen her father kill him when he was just a lad, almost pushing Crystal over the edge of sanity. Yet, there he stood all grown up.

"Arty?" She asked him, not wanting to believe what her eyes saw. He nodded. She stepped backward and hit the wood of the stall.

"How can it be? My father killed you!" She said in shock. He smiled and stepped forward. He took her hand in his.

"He didn't kill me. He wounded me. He thought he killed me as well. Bartholomew even thought I was dead. He has no idea. I heard you were residing in this place, this Shire as they call it. I had to come and find you since your father was killed by me." He said quickly.

She swallowed hard. The death of her father had come at the hands of her love? The man that she had always thought about each and everyday.

"How did you pull off being supposedly dead. And how did you kill my father?" She asked him, totally bewildered.

"I don't know how I pulled off being supposedly dead, but I saw him and decided to take out my revenge. He separated us, I shall never forgive him for that."

"Do you have any idea what I have been through, Arty? Do you? I have been grieving your death for years. I still have. I continuously think about you and wish that my father hadn't done what he had done. You don't realize how angry I am at you. Besides I have moved on."

There was a deep silence that came over them. He looked at her in shock and there was the thread of hurt that she knew all too well. His eyes were the same shocking blue that they always had been and his hair that chestnut brown she loved so much. He had become a man in the time that she had thought he was "dead." He had grown up and she had to wonder if he was thinking the same things about her. She had changed, had grown up during his absence. She had gone through so much since she had thought her father had killed him, and yet here he was in front of her. And she had just told him she had moved on.

In actuallity she hadn't in her mind. Yes, she and Angry had talked about getting married and things of that nature-but she had always had to fight to keep Arty from her mind. Two men, both named Arthur and both with a nickname -she had no idea what to do.

"Who is the lucky man?" He asked her softly.

"A hobbit."

His eyes widened, "A hobbit?" She nodded.

"Why a hobbit? Why?" He asked her angrily.

"He acted as if he loved me."

"As if he loved you. Where is this hobbit. I'll fight him for your hand."

"He is not here, Arty. He has disappeared and I can not find him."

"Why? Did he leave? Did he decided that you were not good enough for him?"

"I don't know. There was nothing taken from his home."

"And you know that how?"

"I live with him."

"Unmarried?!"

"Yes."

"That's blasphemy against all your morals, Crystal!"

"Well I thought you were dead! Besides I had an illness. He saved me from dying!"

"But he's a hobbit!"

"What do you care?!"

"I care because I love you still, Crystal!!"

"WELL MAYBE I STILL LOVE YOU!!!!!!!!"

The arguement stopped. They stood in front of each other, just looking at each other. Tears welled up in Crystal's eyes. Arty took her in his arms and held her as she cried. He kissed her forehead gently.

"I love you, Crystal."

"I love you too. Don't leave me again." He nodded as he just held her. They were together once more, nothing would drive them apart not even the hobbit if he ever returned.

[Sirithheruwen]

Twylight was already beginning to feel less uncomfortable around the strange man. The blood had stopped pounding in her ears and she was able to catch the man's name - Iadarion. He also mentioned something about being the son of the river and forest, but she didn't quite catch all of it because she was thinking. She decided to trust Iadarion, and she treated him with a smile.

She came out of her reverie to hear him say, "So, tell me of yourself."

Twylight didn't know what to do. She couldn't speak, but she didn't know how to get that across. She pointed to the piece of parchment full of her long, loopy handwriting with a question in her eyes. She hoped he knew what he was asking for. She couldn't communicate with him any other way. What if she pretended not to understand...no...she trusted the man, even though her brain was telling her not to. She felt comfortable around him, like she had never felt around anyone before.

With a grin, he pulled a large sheet of parchment out of a pack on his back Twylight hadn't noticed before. She took out her rock and began to write, smiling as she did so:

My name is Twylight. It's very nice to meet you, Iadarion.

[piosenniel]

Buttercup

Buttercup looked the old fellow up and down. A little worse for wear, she thought, too long on the road. But nothing that a bath, a soft, warm bed, and a change of fresh clothes couldn’t cure. And Jack . . . where had Alwin picked up the little urchin, she wondered.

‘We wondered where you’d gone off to, Sir,’ she said. ‘Some saw you on the edges of Hobbiton heading south I think they said, with some little companion. Is this he?’

[Arry]

Jack had scrambled down from his chair to pull out the one nearest the fire for his companion. Alwin lowered himself with an oomph and a sigh onto the seat, then handed his walking stick and pack to Jack to stow in a nearby corner. His grey, stained cape he unclasped and let drape over the chair’s back. ‘I must look a sight!’ he said, crinkling his brow at the Hobbit lass. ‘Been traveling up from Kiera’s homeland for weeks now . . . not many Inns for travelers in that wild country.’ He saw the look of puzzlement in her eyes at the mention of ‘Kiera’. Kiera’s the one with whom I traveled south. Long journey that, but she proved an interesting companion. One of the Drughu. She was here at the same time I was, but hid herself away . . . a shy people, they are, not given to contact much with others outside their kind. Anyway, she was safely delivered to her people’s old homeland and I took my leave of her. Heading for parts north and east to see what’s there.’ His gaze drifted off with a faraway look. ‘Had to rough it, we did,’ he said turning at this last part and winking at Jack. ‘Kiera sent him,’ Alwin explained. ‘To see to me.’

Buttercup looked at the scrawny lad, her brows raised in assessment. He met her gaze steadily, his expression guileless.

‘And a right help he’s been!’ continued the old man. ‘Master Fire Builder, I’ve named him.’ Jack puffed up with pride. ‘And don’t forget The Great Hare Huntsman, Master Alwin!’ he chirped, pulling one of his little corded snares from his pocket to show Buttercup.

‘But for now, I think we’ll just rest easy in your good hands, little mistress,’ he said smiling at Buttercup. ‘Some hot food for us, if you will. And a mug of the Dragon’s fine spiced wine . . . steaming! To warm up these old bones of mine.’ He fished into his little coin purse and drew out several old coins, pushing them toward her. ‘And a room, with a soft bed and plenty of quilts for me . . . with a little cot for Jack . . .’

[Alaksoron]

'Jean' gave a farewell pat to Storm, promising to return early in the morning. Then he stepped over to Surefoot's stall.

He looked Surefoot over well, up and down, looking in all the right places, like a seasoned horseman. Bending down to feel the horse's ankles, he remarked "This is a fine horse indeed. Bred in Minas Tirith, you say? Not many horses there. The Gondorians always were ones to favor infantry above calvalry. Whence the name Surefoot?"

[Archsage Isaac]

Isaac began to grow terribly uncomfortable from the silence between Adu and himself. He didn't know what to make of it and, being the shy one, didn't know what to say to start any kind of conversation with his old friend. He had never been good at that, even back when he was known as 'Jack'.

"You know, you always did sit to my left. Even back when we would go riding you would stay on my left. I even remember one time when we were sparring, you landed a nasty blow to my left side. You bothered me about tending to it for days until I finally just decided to allow you to. I've still got the scar that that blow gave me..." Isaac began to babble on about the past and how he felt that his memories were returning to him because of her. It was true and he believed it. Just being around her again was restoring all of his memories from his past. Just then, he stopped talking and got a wierd feeling, like he was being watched by someone...or something...

[Kitanna]

"It is true," Peony said, stroking Surefoot's mane, "We from Gondor favor an infantry battallion over a cavarly. But we are proud of the horses we have."

Surefoot nudged Jean's hand, perhaps hoping he'd pett her. "As for the name Surefoot, it is pretty self explanatory. She always seems sure of where she is going. And why the name name Storm and is he a descandant of the mearas?"

Dîm looked to the grey sky. As Lily thought of the soon coming rain, the dwarf did the same. Rain! How wonderful. My favorite kind of weather.... Although this was a lie. His favorite kind of weather was no weather. Like all dwarves, this one liked the dark and damp caverns of the mountain halls. Though, Dîm really couldn't remember what the halls were like since he had been absent from the Lonely Mountain for some time now. The last time he had been in a hall was a year ago when he passed through the desolate mine of Moria, the king: Dain attempting to keep the mine up and productive.

"Nay, Lady Lilly only for a night then it's off on the road again for me. I'm travelling up North, to see if I can get my hands on anythin of the Laiquendi." he said dreamily, he always wanted to meet the Green Elves, also called the Laiquendi. Mystical remote elves that never made any settlement or fortification. They prefered the woods for a home instead of a house or castle. He admired them for their constitution....

[Alaksoron]

'Jean' smiled at Surefoot's nudge and in response began to stroke the mares face. "As for the name Storm, I chose the name because I like it. I do not know why else except his gray color reminds me of a harsh storm. Perhaps it is also his stormy nature.

"No, Storm is not descended from the Mearas as far as I know. Sometimes I believe it is possible. But I know horses and I know he is bred from the best blood on the market. His parents were both prime racers, so he is both fast and powerful."

'Jean' looked hard at Peony, perhaps seeing something he had not before. "The storm is gathering again. We should return inside. Are you hungry?"

[Bombadil]

Iadarion watched as the girl loosened up and scribbled her name on the parchment.

"Oh hey dol!" he exclaimed, annoying some around him. "It's very nice to meet you, Twylight!"

Then Iadarion broke out into what seemed to Twylight like a never-ending tale. It started out catching her interest, as he talked of his father Tom, and of the river daughter. But as his anecdotes grew longer and longer she grew very weary and impatient.

As the server was passing Twylight got her attention and scribbled:

another pint please!

It was going to be a long day.

[piosenniel]

Ruby and Buttercup marched out from the kitchen, bearing trenchers laden with bread and cheese, two bowls of stew thick with taters, fat carrots, and chicken, and two mugs - one of cider, one of hot spiced wine. They set it before Alwin and Jack, beaming as the two hungry travelers set to with a will. Ruby hurried back to the kitchen for two generous helpings of apple tart, and set them on the raised hearth, near enough the fire to keep them warm.

‘I’ll bring you a pot of hot tea when you’re ready for it,’ she said nodding toward the two bowls of dessert. 'And a pitcher of clotted cream to pour over the tart.' She glanced at the old fellow’s pack in the corner, noting the odd bulges in its contour. Not one to be shy about asking questions, she pointed toward the pack as she topped off Alwin’s mug. ‘I’m thinking there’s still a harp stuck in there, Master Alwin. And if memory serves me, you still owe a song or at least a story from your last stay with us.’

She leaned in a little closer, lowering her voice. ‘I met Kiera, you know . . . well, not really met her . . . she brought us some healing herbs she gathered to replenish our supplies, during that awful fire. That and she tended the kitchen garden a bit while we were busy with the injured. Shy little thing, she was. Scarce taller than me! Had a way with the plants, that one. They never grew so lush before – and that despite the ash and smoke. We never spoke, and I half wondered if she were mute. But we nodded and smiled as we went about our business.’ Ruby broke off speaking, remembering the dark haired, olive skinned woman with the kind brown eyes. ‘Still waters run deep, or so my gran used to say. I always wanted to say how much we appreciated her help – but she was gone before we could do so.’ Ruby drummed her fingers on the table, as Alwin chewed on a thick slice of bread and spooned up his stew.

‘Maybe you could tell us a little story about her and her people?’ she urged him, picking up a slice of cheese to nibble on. ‘I never quite figured out where she hailed from.’

[Crystal Heart]

Arty and Crystal walked back to the Inn after putting his horse away in one of the stalls. She saw Adu and led Arty over there. She sat down as Arty pulled up a chair.

"Hi Adu. This is Arthur Newson, better known as Arty. He's the boy I thought Dorian killed. But he didn't!" Crystal said happily. Adu looked at the boy, as if she was trying to place him.

Arty put his arm across the back of her chair, as he always use to do. She knew that even though they still loved each other they hadn't seen each other in years. They would need to get to know one another again. That would take time, but time that Crystal was willing to spend. She asked the waitress for two pints. They came swiftly. Arty looked down at it and then back at her confused at what the drink was. She just smiled and watched as he lifted the tankard to his lips. He sipped and looked at her in surprise. She just smiled and tried to keep from laughing. His expression was something that she remembered from the years past. Even though he had grown up in appearance his personality hadn't changed-much to Crystal's relief.

[Sirithheruwen]

The afternoon with the man had started well. He had bought her a drink, which she politely sipped. Truth be told, Twylight didn't care for drinking much.

For a while she was contented to just look at the man while he told a very long and involving story, to just explore his habits. Twylight had never been in contact with many people before, so she was very interested. Eventually though, he was beginning to get to her. He was talking incessently.

Catching one of the server's attention, she scibbled down an order for a beer. She pushed it over in front of Iadarion with a note saying:

Here. Take a little rest. I don't mind. You can finish your story later.

She watched him as he drained his mug. Before he could launch himself into his tale again, she hastily scribbled:

So, what brings you to the Green Dragon Inn? It is very far from your home.

[Kitanna]

Peony shrugged, "No, I just ate not too long ago, but don't let that keep you from getting something to eat." She gave Surefoot one more friendly pat on the head. The horse whined a little as Peony and Jean turned to leave. Peony went back for another good-bye pet. "You big baby." She said, turning once again to leave.

Jean and Peony returned to the inn and took their seats back at the table. "So tell me Mr. Jean, how long have you been in the Shire?"

[Amanaduial the archer]

Passing by Crystal, two pints in each hand, held above her head to stop her spilling them on anyone, Aman bumped into the other woman as she passed, and heard the woman's words.

"Hi Adu. This is Arthur Newson, better known as Arty. He's the boy I thought Dorian killed. But he didn't!"

Aman's eyebrows shot up but she gave a small whoop of laughter. "Gracious me, sounds like celebrations are in order, Crystal!" she said gleefully as the woman turned to beam at her happily. The handsome young man beside Crystal draped his arm across the back of her chair casually, looking up at Aman with a clear, direct gaze, his eyes dark and kindly, flashing with some sort of mystery, as if he knew something that the Innkeeper didn't.

"Two pints please, Aman," Crystal asked politely.

"Two? Nay, doesn't seem to me that coming back from the dead is something that happens ever day. Pints all around, and on me!" Aman was in good humour and feeling generous - and besides, the Inn was very busy tonight, and she was kept busy. The atmosphere was cosy rather than oppressive, as it so often was at the Dragon, and snatches of music and stories flitted around the Innkeeper from all directions as she wove through the croweded Common Room, depositing her drinks and picking up new orders as she went, and such was the atmosphere that Aman wouldn't be surprised if there was dancing before the night was out. Pulling a few drinks, she deftly served the few new customers at the bar and darted back across to Crystal, gracefully off-loading the pints on the table to Crystal and those around her. She winked at Arty as he picked up his pint. "I've heard a fair amount about you, sir!" she said in a stage whisper. The man laughed and Crystal blushed a little, giving Aman a playful glare. She was still beaming away though, and her hands lay on the table close to Arty's. Aman couldn't resist.

"Will you be staying a night or so, Mr Arthur?" she inquired politely, then continued, "And, sorry, I can't help asking - how is it that Crystal mistook you for dead? If you don't mind my asking, of course," she added quickly, so as not to appear brazen or rude.

[Crystal Heart]

Arty smiled at the Innkeeper as she brought pints all around.

"Well here's the story. If you have time to listen, I'd be glad to tell it. Here's the story. General Dorian, Crystal's father found out that I was courting the wonderful Miss Heart. He was furious for you see I took her out at night to show her what life was like outside the confinds of her home. He never let her out. He had found out while Crystal's mother-Sandrina was still alive. Sandrina, even though weak and ill still had some control over her husband's temper. She died suddenly, when we all believed and were told by the doctors that she would survive. Suddenly, mind you. Creating suspicion in the minds of Crystal and I that Dorian had posioned his wife."

He paused momentarily to take another drink from his tankard and continued:

"I was just a lad then, not much older then fifteen. I became angry at the sadness that had finally taken control of my lovely Crystal. So I confronted the man. I accused him of killing his wife. He became angry and fought me with his swords. I wasn't as skilled as he and was slashed in the stomach. I stopped breathing and laid so still that he thought I was dead. He didn't even come over to check if I really was. He left with Crystal crying. Now, by the time any strength had come back to me I had already fallen to unconsciousness. Some travellers who had saw the fight took me far away for they knew the dangers that Dorian could present to a young man who was wounded as badly as I was. They travelled a lot while I recovered. By the time I was fully recovered I returned to Rohan with a band of travellers. But by that time Crystal had fled Dorian and he had started up the search for her. I decided to start a search of my own."

"Crystal is a sneaky little thing. When she wants to be found she can be, and it was obvious she didn't want to be found by anyone. I followed her trail, but I couldn't find her. I was always days behind or even weeks behind her at some points. Bartholomew-my brother had no idea I was on this quest. This journey lasted three years before I finally lost her trail. So I decided to take my revenge on the man that had sent her into hiding and the one that had tried to kill me. I went after Dorian. I was the one that killed Dorian. That quest took another year and a half to complete."

"Now I'm about to turn twenty soon here in a couple of weeks and finally found out that Crystal has been hiding here in the Shire. I decided to come and find her. That's why I'm here. To save her once again."

He looked over at Crystal and smiled at her lovingly. She was the one thing that had kept him going even though she had no idea he was alive. He never was going to leave her side again.

"What about Angry, Crystal?" Adu asked her softly. Arty looked at her in confusion.

"Arty, Angry is the name of the hobbit I have been residing with. Adu-he has disappeared. I have no idea where he is. I had given up hope that Arty was alive, but I have always loved him. His family didn't agree anyway. It relieves pressure off of him now." Crystal answered quickly.

Arty took her hand. He had waited so long in trying to find her. He had even purchased several items that he knew that she would love once he found her to give them to her. But there was one item in his pocket that he could never have found in any store. He had traded it with a family that he had helped on his journy in looking for her. A valued item that she would never have believed could still exist. An item she had treasured as a child, but he knew that she thought she had lost.

He pushed back his chair and knelt down on one knee, right front of these people that he had no idea who they really all were. But it didn't matter to him now. As he had retold his story he knew that now was the best time, during this time of celebration.

"Crystal I've searched for you for quite a long time. I ask you now if you'll consent in marrying me." He asked her as he slipped onto her left ring finger her grandmother's wedding ring that her mother had wore and had passed onto her before her death. Dorian had taken it away from Crystal and traded it sometime afterwards. He hadn't known when they had traded, but the name in the band was all he needed to know that it was really her heirloom.

Crystal sat in shock, not speaking and not moving. She barely blinked. She suddenly swallowed and started to cry.

"My grandmother's, my... Where did you?"

"I found it on my journey to finding you once more."

She continued to cry and shook her head in disbelief. Finally she answered in a soft whisper, "Yes, I do consent to marrying you."

[Witch_Queen]

Aduthondiel
Adu was suprised by what both Crystal and Isaac had to say to her. "Crystal I'm so happy for you. I knew Dorian was never good at killing someone thats why I was always the assassin. Isaac this is Crystal, I've known her all her life. She's like a daughter to me." Adu didn't want to show it but she was glad that it was over with Angry.

She looked over at her two friends. Everything was better now. All she needed was Hama.

[Bombadil]

Iadarion was delightfully drinking his ale purchased by Twylight. He already grew very fond of the girl, and the pint made his feelings stronger. Right as he finished off his last drop he looked down to see the parchment again, this time what was written said:

So what brings you to the Green Dragon Inn? It's very far from your home.

"Oh so yeh want to know do yeh!?" It seemed the ale had made th man a little tipsy. "Well - Aye have ben put in charge of the Old forest since meh father Tom and his lady disappeared- to where? Oi! Aye can't tell you! 's a secret! Baht anyways, aye decided aye shood go and check up on the trees in there. Mek sure they're not cawsin too much trooble."

Iadarion hicupped which provoked a parched laugh from Twylight who, not being a drinker herself, could handle more nectar than this man. Iadarion smiled and continued.

"Sue aye dee-cided to come en 'ere and tek a small vayy-cation."

Hiccup

Then, all of a sudden Iadarion leapt on the table and broke out into song:

Oh! Welcome all you halflings past the borders of your Shire!
To a place of green and brown and things, but never that of fire!
They say it's dark, and dangerous, and all the trees're to fear!
But my grand old home in the forest of Old, oh I say it's not so queer...!

But his embarrassing drunken song was cut short as he fell to the ground. ( To the delight of some) Twylight tried to wake him up for awhile after, and just as she gave up and was ready to leave, Iadarion sprang up and said, "So! tell me of yourself fair lady!"

All she thought of then was of what an odd fellow he was.

[Crystal Heart]

Crystal smiled brightly as she wiped her tears away.

"Adu do you remember Arty at all, the young man that accompanied me while I toured the city at night?" Crystal asked her. Arty reached over the table to shake her hand.

"If she doesn't remember me, I sure remember you. I never saw Dorian without seeing you somewhere nearby. It's nice to see once again," He said as he shook her hand.

"It is nice to meet you as well Isaac," Crystal said as she shook his hand.

Arty knew that what had just happened had flustered and surprised Crystal. What many people didn't know was if he did something so sweet in front of people she became shy, so unlike herself but at the same time exactly like herself. He had seen her blush, cry, and smile so many times in the past that he could still almost time her reactions down to the second before they happened. He smiled at his thoughts.

[Sirithheruwen]

As Iadarion told her of his home, all Twylight could focus on was how drunk he was getting. No more ales for you! she thought with a vocal laugh. The man smiled; the laugh seemed to have provoked him in some way. With a shout, Iadarion broke out into song, which startled both the local hobbits and Twylight alike:

Oh! Welcome all you halflings past the borders of your Shire!
To a place of green and brown and things, but never that of fire!
They say it's dark, and dangerous, and all the trees're to fear!
But my grand old home in the forest of Old, oh I say it's not so queer...!

With that, he collapsed into a pile on the Inn floor. Twylight gasped and fell down to her knees next to him. She shook him and shook him, but he didn't answer. Despite the fact that she couldn't speak, she still tried to call out to the other hobbits, but no sound came out. They seemed not to want to have anything to do with the eccentric stranger.

Just as Twylight was going to run for help, he jumped up and said, ""So! tell me of yourself fair lady!" She would have screamed if she had her voice.

The man seemed startled to see her pale white face and shaking hands.

[Alaksoron]

'Jean' ordered some roast chicken and cold ham as well as a third ale before answering Peony's question. Despite having three mugs of ale already, not small, he did not seem even the least tipsy. Ale apparently did not effect him like it did other men.

"I only just arrived in the Shire tonight, and I leave again in the morning. I will probably be passing through again in three days or so and I very well may stop in again. The Green Dragon is a fine inn, and I regret that I am not able to visit it more often."

'Jean' cast an annoyed, even disgusted, glance at the man sitting at the table with the Elf-woman, the one who had so loudly introduced himself as Idadarion. He seemed to be getting very drunk which seemed to vex 'Jean' a great deal.

[Nurumaiel]

Toby's answer was drowned out by the loud singing from another part of the room.

Oh! Welcome all you halflings past the borders of your Shire!
To a place of green and brown and things, but never that of fire!
They say it's dark, and dangerous, and all the trees're to fear!
But my grand old home in the forest of Old, oh I say it's not so queer...!

Marcho scowled furiously and Blanco raised an eyebrow, muttering to Posco, "Is he talking about the Old Forest?" The singer had collapsed in a crumpled heap on the floor. A little cry escaped Bingo's lips and he sprang to his feet. Marcho caught his arm. "Don't go over there, lad," he growled. "It might be dangerous."

Bingo gently pulled free of Marcho's grasp and gazed sorrowfully at his friend and then at the rest of the people in the Common Room. All seemed disgusted and made no move to help. Bingo felt an urge to weep at the faces of some, but he composed himself and turned back to Marcho. "He might need help, Marcho." Oblivious of what others might think of him, he left his table by the fireplace. The singer had jumped up and began talking again. The fair young woman of the Big Folk looked terrified; Bingo hurried forward, his eyes full of compassion. He gently but firmly took the singer by the arm and sat him down. He turned to the woman of the Big Folk and said, "He's very drunk. He's in no condition to be walking about. You needn't worry about it; I'll take care of him."

Marcho heard these words and snarled viciously. What a fool Bingo was, offering to help that drunkard!

Bingo had put a hand on the singer's forehead and frowned gently. "He's going to make himself sick if he doesn't stop and sleep off his drunkeness," he said. Once again he addressed the woman of the Big Folk. "Tell me, miss, does he have a room?"

[Arry]

Jack stood up on his chair once again as the man across the room began to sing. It was the fellow he’d spied earlier in the green cloak and yellow boots. Jack’s eyes went wide as the song slurred off at the end and the man crumpled to the floor. ‘He’s sick, Sir!’ he said in a breathless rush as he jumped from his chair to the floor. Grabbing Alwin’s sleeve, he urged the old fellow to bring his pouch of healing herbs to help the stricken singer.

Alwin turned round in his chair, and was about to rise, when Ruby laid a hand on his forearm and bade him sit again. ‘Not sick, little Jack,’ she snorted, hands on hips. ‘The man’s had one too many ales if you ask me.’ Hmmmph! she muttered under her breath. ‘Maybe the fall will knock some sense into him.’ She started toward the place where the man lay. Iardarion – that’s what he had called himself.

‘Here!’ called the old man, motioning her back for a moment. Jack had brought him his little packet of herbs, and Alwin had fished out a few dried strands of willow-bark from one of the pockets. He crushed them over a half mug of steaming tea, and thrust the infusion into her hands. ‘This will help with the achey head he’s bound to have.’

[Sirithheruwen]

It seemed Twylight had been wrong about all of the hobbits of the room being disgusted. A hobbit that looked young even by hobbits' standards bustled up. "He's very drunk. He's in no condition to be walking about. You needn't worry about it; I'll take care of him."

Without stopping to think about the stranger's reaction to her parchment-writing, she wrote:

I don't know...I feel responsible for him.

She tried and failed to attract the hobbit's attention. He just continued to examine the man with concern. "Tell me, miss, does he have a room?" He looked at her anxiously. Taking up the parchment again, she scribbled quickly:

No, not that I know of.

Seeming to stop and think for the time being, she quickly crossed that out.

Yes. Yes, I do believe he does.

While the hobbit was reading her note, she motioned to the serving maid who had helped her before. "Are you ready to go to your room, miss?" she asked, looking down her nose at the man,which wasn't too hard now that the hobbit lad had just convinced the protesting man to lie down. Twylight nodded firmly, and wrote:

Take this man to my room please. I'll be along to see him later.

Helping the man up, the two hobbits hustled their whining patient out of the common room. Twylight sighed heavily and plopped herself down at her table. She was sitting alone again.

[Nurumaiel]

In the room, Bingo and the young hobbit maid lay the man out on the bed, and Bingo studied the drunkard with deep concern. "I confess," he said at last, "that I do not know how to keep him here if he tries to leave. He matches me for strength... no, he excels in me in strength. He is one of the Big Folk and besides that I am not very strong." He leaned against the headstand of the bed, staring down at the man and thinking deeply. Time went on. The hobbit maid stood uncertainly by, wondering if she should go or if he wanted her help. At last he nodded, slowly, and then a little smile came to his face. "I think it might work." He turned to the hobbit maid. "Excuse me, please, but would you tell me your name?"

"My name is Ruby Brown," said she.

He gave that queer little bow he was so apt to give. "And mine is Bingo Cotton, at your service. I am most pleased to meet you." He paused, took a breath, and was about to continue on the original subject when he saw the cup of tea in her hand. "What is that?" he asked.

"One of our patrons, Alwin, gave it for this man," she said. "He said it will help the aching head he will most certainly have."

"That's good," said Bingo, "but there is something else we need. I have to leave for a little while now. You can leave too, but please lock the door behind you, and might I have the key?" He led her to the door and had her lock it before acquiring the key. "Thank you very much," he said. "I must speak to Master Alwin."

When they reached the Common Room Ruby pointed out Alwin to Bingo and he approached him. He bowed when he was sure he had his attention, saying, "Master Alwin, my name is Bingo Cotton. You gave Miss Brown some herbs to help that man's headache. Seeing that you have herbs and I do not, I wondered if you would be so kind as to inform me if you have any herbs that would quiet the man down a bit? At the moment he seems quite disposed to jump up and sing and talk loudly and I will have difficulties watching after him, seeing as he is one of the Big Folk and I am but a weak little hobbit."

[Kitanna]

Peony followed Jean's stare to the man, Idadarion. The man was most likely drunk, judging by his behavior. "I would just ignore him." She said, looking away.

She began fiddling with a napkin near her. "So, what brings you to the Shire, Jean? Family? Just because?" She looked up and turned to see if Deva was still hanging around the inn. Nope, nowhere to be seen.

[Kransha]

Once again, life in the Green Dragon had become strange, as it always one. One big fellow after another stumbling through the Common Room after too many ale quaffs. Toby shared a conservative laugh with himself, reminiscing rather dumbly about his own unfortunate incident with a tankard of ale at the party the other day, in which he required the stout Snaveling to quell his drinking streak. He hadn’t exactly broken into song, but he’d come close. He could’ve sworn he saw an oliphaunt lurking in the flickering shadows played off by the Dragon’s hearth-fire, nestled in the cracks of the neatly cropped floorboards and somehow flitting up into a hover above the decked tables. But, that had been an error of his, one he would not repeat anytime soon, or so he hoped.

Feeling madly giddy at his new ‘find’ aged Tobias Hornblower sprung to his feet like an excited child and hopped across the grounds of the inn, trailing after Bingo Cotton, but halted abruptly when Bingo, accompanied with pomp and ceremony by Miss Ruby as the two Halfling dragged a comatose, but still blathering oaf with a jolly gait from the common room and ascended to the rooms of the inn. Smiling half-heartedly, Toby swiftly spun upon his leathery sole of a heel and pranced back over to Posco, Marcho, and Blanco, alighting with supreme agility upon a wobbling stool, instead of the sturdier chair that the hobbit companions had provided for him.

“So…do folks like that come here often?” queried Blanco, still noticeably eager as he posed the question, despite mild hesitation. Toby again chuckled in his full throat, emitting a noise that sounded somewhat like a bullfrog, and replied, nodding his head in an overly energetic fashion. “Oh, you’d be surprised, Master Blanco. One could say you’re one o’ the lucky few who came here after the ‘incident’ last week. There were many more queer sorts than there are this day. I’d ‘ave sworn that we had a couple of trolls at the tables in the back, but that’s just speculation on my part. We had a good many of the fair-haired big folk, and the ones with pointy ears, and the dark sort from the south, the light sort from the north, and the sort that’s sorta in between from the south that’s not quite as south as the other south I mentioned and-”

Toby cut himself off. He was babbling like an idiot, but he couldn’t find it in his stony heart to care. It was a very good feeling, as a matter of fact. The last time he’d done this had been with Snaveling and Roa. He distinctly remembered his zealous, reasonless tirade about the Battle of Greenfields, a rant with no start or end; yes, that had been quite a memorable experience. Toby laughed, sounding noticeably less like a bullfrog, and leaned back, nearly keeling over as his brimming chest swelled.

“Dear me, I think I’ve gone and started being a fool again. But, that’s not important now. Tell me, good Brandybucks of the Shire, what business brought you to the finest establishment for the procuring of fine ales that Eriador has to offer, hmm?”

[Alaksoron]

'Jean's grimace directed at the man in the corner abruptly became a grateful smile when the server arrived with his food. He pressed five thick gold coins into the hobbits hand and set to his meal with a will. With his first mouthful he leaned back in his eat, closed his eyes, and gave a satisfied sigh. "I have not eaten in two days. Tell Mistress Aman she has out-done herself again."

Turning to Peony, he said "I have been........recalled...........after a very long retirement.........to.......re-affirm........my allegiance....to a Lord.......into whose service I was born." He took a long swallow of his ale and sighed again. "The Green Dragon"

[Kitanna]

Peony raised an eyebrow at Jean, unsure of what to make of what he just said. "Um..." She forced an smile onto her face. "Say that one more time. I am a little slow and what you just said made no sense to me what so ever."

She continued to play with the napkin, tying it in knots and then untying it only to tie it again. Peony waited for Jean to give his answer. She wondered if Deva had gone out for another walk or if he was asleep in the room.

[Nurumaiel]

Blanco grimaced horribly, twisting his mouth, scrunching his nose, and squinting his eyes, which made Posco grinned in an embarrassed way. "Relatives," Blanco groaned. "What business do folk from Buckland have moving to Bywater, anyway? Of course it was good to get her away. I'd rather have to go visit her once in awhile than have her at my doorstep every day."

Toby smiled in an amused, puzzled way. "Who is this 'her?'"

"My aunt Malva. She's terrible and hideous. The way she finds fault in every thing a poor hobbit does. I can't begin to express my annoyance when she sniffs and turns up her nose when we go out to our local inn. 'How hideous to go to a filthy inn and drink filthy ale!' she cries. Poor Posco here can't get on her good side. He's always getting dirty; perhaps you've noticed. She loathes it. 'Posco dear...' by the way, it is awful the way she says 'dear.' 'Posco dear,' she says, 'you digust me with your filthy habits of wallowing in the dirt like your uncle's pigs!' Isn't that awful? Comparing dear Posco to a pig! We recently got a letter from her saying that she desired her 'dear and beloved nephews' to come visit her here in Bywater. We've been in misery for three whole days and we decided to run away for a night or two. Oh, and you must wonder why Marcho and Bingo are here. Marcho is because our mother, despite our very experienced age, didn't want us going all the way from Buckland to Bywater alone, so she had Marcho who is very old and wise take care of us. As for Bingo my aunt took a fancy to him because he's alway so sweet and polite. She enjoys making life miserable for him and seeing that he isn't in truth very miserable. At least she doesn't get upset when he bears all her unjust words patiently like she does with us. If I just smile at her she flies into a terrible rage." He rolled his eyes and buried his face in his mug, glowering.

Marcho grumbled almost inaudibly, "At least a cup of ale stops him from talking." Posco thought about their other aunts who were indescribably sweet and gentle. How did that one aunt get to be so awful? Let Blanco take care of the talking about it, though. Marcho was right; he did talk a lot, but ale did stop him.

He soon returned to his talking however, before Toby could put in a word of comment about the dreadful aunt. "Well, Mister Toby, what do you think of that?" he said. "She's awful!" He emphasized his point by slamming his mug on the table. "Do you have any aunts like that?"

[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 from Bywater and Postmaster for this area of the Shire; his pony’s name is Dumpling.

Fredgar Hornblower – local Shiriff from Hobbiton – played by Fool of a Took
_____________________________________________

Please Note:

No 'SAVES' are allowed in the Inn (except for modifications needed to be made by the Moderators or Innkeeper).

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.

No violence is allowed in the Inn or on Inn grounds.

Please be familiar with the rules for the Inn and Games in The Red Book of Westmarch, the first topic in the Shire.