The Green Dragon Inn #11 - The Last Chapter

[piosenniel]

~*~ GREEN DRAGON INN FACTS ~*~

The Green Dragon Inn is located in Bywater, just off the Great East-West Road.

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

Vinca Bunce, widowed, Inn Cook (character played by Piosenniel)

Derufin, General handyman/jack-of-all-trades round the Inn; Man from southwestern Gondor (played by Envinyatar) - AWAY AT PRESENT

Zimzi (Zimziran), wife to Derufin; a skilled potter from Lindon(played by Pio) - AWAY AT PRESENT

Meri - Stablemaster

Tim Woodlock - Stableboy; Wren - his younger sister: humans, originally from Breeland (characters played by Folwren)

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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.

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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.

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About Elves in Shire RPG's:

Please use this description from Tolkien when crafting an Elf:

Return of the King – Appendix F: Tolkien’s description for the Quendi (The Speakers) – the name given to the Elves by themselves after they first awoke in Middle-earth.

“They were a race high and beautiful, the older Children of the world, and among them the Eldar were as Kings, who now are gone: the People of the Great Journey, the People of the Stars. They were tall, fair of skin and grey-eyed, though their locks were dark, save in the golden house of Finrod; and their voices had more melodies than any mortal voice that is now heard . . .”

Please use this as a guideline for describing your Elven character’s appearance.

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EVERYONE

Please be familiar with The Red Book of Westmarch which gives the rules for posting in the Shire RPG's and in The Green Dragon Inn.

Thanks!

Piosenniel, Shire Moderator


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TIME OF DAY

It is now a fair night in the Shire; the stars are out.

There is a large party in the Inn's front yard - tables are loaded with food, desserts, drinks. Several barrels of ale have been tapped, compliments of one of the Hobbit brewmasters.

There are tables and benches scattered over the front lawn. Twinkling little lanterns hang from the trees. To one side of the verandah there is a little stage set up for the musicians and a large area cleared for dancing.

[Dimturiel]

Ravennar felt moved by Heather's speech. He sensed in it the anxiety of one that fears lest the things that one loves should be forgotten, yet not for the sake of oneself, but because they are things much too fair to pass unmourned into oblivion. He shook his head and said:

"True, tales wiil always be remembered. Thousand of years from now, maybe, one will sit by the fire listening to ancient lays, or discern in the yellowed pages of a book the days of yore, and be moved to laughter, or to tears by the tale of our times. But will it be believed, I wonder? Will it not be considered only a figment- fair, it is true,- of other people's imagination? Not oblivion worries me, but disbelief. Think, Heather, could you bear the thought of people talking of elves, or of King Elessar, or...or even of the Green Dragon, as if they had been only an untrue story? Could you bear the thought that there will come a time when those that fought and died in the Great War will no longer be shown reverence and gratitude?"

Ravennar fell silent. He looked arround him. The night was wearing on, he could see that, and soon he would have to be on the road again. Yet, where was his road? And how could he get there in time? He looked at Heather, pondering if he could trust her. But this could be his last chance, and he had to take it.

"I have to leave at daybreak." he told Heather. "Yet I am in difficulty and this may turn ill, not only for me, but for others also. Could...could you not help me?"

[Hookbill the Goomba]

The grey beard of the stout fellow was almost completely white now, and his face was certainly set with a thousand griefs. The sign of the Green Dragon burrowed into his mind as he stood at the door, as he sighed and drew himself up. It had been a night of doom and of disaster, and he knew that it would not be over, not as long as the memory lasted in his ancient Dwarvish brain.

The Inn was slightly sad, as if the passing of something was taking place soon, almost as if some sensed the grief that lay on the little Dwarf's heart. Yet some were dancing and singing, drinking and eating, a merry band of hobbits, reminding Dwaline of why he loved The Shire.

Cree was sitting at a table, a half full mug of ale in front of here and a look of bewilderment in her face. Adu was near by; Dwaline knew that she had been the first to speak with fell Fáinu when he came to the Shire. The Dwarf put a hand on her arm and whispered in her ear, yet only she heard what he had said. He stepped back and spoke a little more loudly, "If you wish to hear the full tale, I shall tell it. Stand near by."

The Dwarf hobbled over to Cree's table and sat down with a thump and placed his head in his hands. "My lady," he began, "I bring news. Grief here is twinned with hope. Yes, hope for ye." He took out of his pack a long and smooth black pipe; it looked as if it had never been used. "I was told to give this onto you. He said you would understand." Cree nodded and took the pipe.

"I met Fáinu coming out from the inn," continued the Dwarf, "and we spoke a while on the road. He told me much of your adventures with the Dragon, though I already knew much of it. He seemed so distant and full of cares. I soon realised that our steps were going westwards and when he called upon a horse, I knew for certain that we were going to the Heavens. How we got there so fast I do not know, but we did.

"As we walked out on the pier, Fáinu stopped, staring out to the sea, and with tears in his eyes, he fell to the ground. He helped him up and he tried once again to approach the boat, yet he fell once again. His eyes were blind with streaming tears and he cried aloud 'Curse you! Curse you! Dragon! Worm! I hate thee! Thy curse hath been fore filled! Release me! Release me!' yet nothing happened. He threw his fist at the ground and wept all the more.

"After a while he rose and walked away from the Heavens. He walked up along the cliffs and ever looked west. He stumbled once, yet regained his balance and stood long on the cliff edge, looking out over the sea. I came to him and said we should go back to the Inn before it closes, yet he shook his head.

"'I am not going back to the Inn,' he said, 'not now, not ever!' his hands were clenched in a fist and he shook. 'Now I truly have nothing. Do you see? Nought but the clothes I here bare; yet I am content. Yes, content to live in this cursed Middle Earth. Yet, while I wish to remain, to be with my friends,' he laughed a cruel laugh, 'how amusing. I never had a friend in my life. I was a cruel person, full of hate and pitiless to the point to leading a trusted friend into a Dragons den. Do those sound like the actions of a friend? I was never anyone's friend.'

"I began to get worried and I stepped towards him, yet he drew his sword and threatened me, saying, 'come not nigh to me! This is the last hour! See, the west has rejected me and I must flee thither to escape the cursed Dragon! Since the sea will no bear me, I must go to Mandos!' he threw then the pipe at me, saying that you would understand." Cree looked at the pipe, and it seemed strange to her.

"He then turned to the west and looked out over the sea, crying, 'Mandos! If you keep Dragons in your halls, tell the so-called son of Smaug that his slayer is coming! And I curse him! I curse him to the end of Arda! Curse ye Dragon! Curse ye Middle Earth! And a curse on ye, oh fell Mandos!' with that, he took the blade and forced it into his own breast." Cree's eyes flashed and she seemed to stop breathing for a second.

"Yeah, I attempted to lend my aid, yet it was too late. Before I could come there, he had toppled over the edge and fallen among the rocks and the sea had taken him." both Adu and Cree listened in amazement, yet now it all made sense. It had been coming for a while, and Cree could now see why.

"He believes, maybe," continued Dwaline, "that since he has gone to Mandos, you can take the boat to Valinor. I know not the matters of the Elves. Yet now, I believe, the tale of fell Fáinu is over, for the Dragon curse has left and all may be made right in this matter." he rose from the table and closed his pack. "I must leave now. I will go to Rivendel and seek out the family of the accursed." he laid a hand on Cree's shoulder, "farewell, lady, we will not meet again." and with that, Dwaline the Dwarf left the Green Dragon Inn, forever.

[Glirdan]

"Just tell me what you want help with." Gróin could tell that she was still quite aggravated with him yet still didn't want to ruin their knew friendship.

"No, there is nothing you could do now Lily. I was just in horrible fright and when I saw you, I yelled for you to help me because of that fright. I think I will go back to bed and leave you and your "friend" alone. And when I wake up, I'm off. But not to the Ered Luin. I shall be travelling, looking for the woman whom I love. I know she's still alive. I just know she is..." Gróin said, lost in thought. Yes. That's what I shall do. I shall go on a search for my love, Sarin. He turned back to look at Lily and Posco to say goodnight.

[Dairym]

Ravennar straightened, as though at some unspoken decision. At last, it seemed, he had come to what troubled him. “I have to leave at daybreak,” he said. “Yet I am in difficulty and this may turn ill, not only for me, but for others also. Could…could you not help me?”

“I—I do not think I could be of much help to you…” Heather murmured. She could hardly imagine that such a traveler would need her help. What might a Breelander do that he couldn’t? Her fingers touched the hard stone through the fabric of her skirt, and a thrill of excitement warmed her. She looked up and smiled. “Whatever aid I can give, it is yours. Please…tell me of your ‘difficulty’.”

[Dimturiel]

Ravennar stood for some moments silent, hesitating, as if he now regreted his plea for help. Presently, he took a deep breath and began:

"I think that I should start my tale from the beginning. It will explain my plight better, although it would also cast an ill reflection upon me. If this is so, and if you are no longer willing to help me, I will respect your choice.

"I like to travel, and for this reason I am always being sent on some errand or another. I had a friend, that would go with me, and the roads were shorter when I would tread them with him. But something terrible happened on one of our journeys. The path that we were treading was wild and untamed, and beneath us gaped dark a dark gulf. My friend slipped on a rock and.."

Ravennar stopped and shook his head. He remained silent for a while, as if he was mustering his thoughts.

"I tried to give him aid," he continued at lenght, "I really did, but...but there was nothing that I could do. I returned alone, and told my people what had happened but not all believed me. Some said that I had failed to rescue him on purpose. It was known to all that I had my eyes on the same maiden that he courted. That was true, and true was also the fact that she prefered him, and that I envied him; but I swear, Heather, I swear on what I hold most dear in this world that never had I thought of harming him. He was my friend.

"I recieved this accusation one night at our inn, and I had changed since then. I am always striving now to prove my worth to those that name me murderer. It is not that I am trying to make them renounce their belief, Iam just trying to prove to them that I can do deeds worth singing of. I have become arrogant in my pursuit for glorry. And this lead me to my greatest mistake.

"I was entrusted with an errand of great importance, an errand of which I may not say any more.I had to go to Anuminas. But I , in my arrogance and foly, refused to take any companion and set upon this road alone. The journey was hard. I lost my horse, and I lost my way also. I know not how to reach Anuminas from here. Will you not help me, Heather? Although, now that you know my true self, maybe you are not that willing to aid me."

Ravennar fell silent and looked at Heather expectantly. He hoped very much that he woul recieve help, not for himself as much as for the sake of his errand.

[Firefoot]

That was my fault, said one half of Lily’s mind as Gróin said good night and left for his room. Nevertheless, she was puzzled; she had been completely genuine in her offer of help, but now Gróin seemed determined to simply ignore whatever it was that had gotten him in such a fright. Strange fellow, that one. Not unpleasant, but strange.

“I hope it wasn’t me that put him off,” Lily said to Posco. “He doesn’t think highly enough of himself and wouldn’t ever bother anyone with himself. But I suspect it was just that; a noise in the hallway that frightened him. If it really is something, I suppose we’ll hear more of it. I do hope he finds the one he’s looking for, though.” An awkward silence settled over the table. There seemed to be so many things she ought to say and no good way to say them. “It’s horrible to think you might not, you know… find the one you’re looking for, that is.” Yes, he ought to know. “For if you had no confidence in me, I had none in you, either. You see, when I was riding through Buckland, there was some lad there who told me you had come here to find your bride, and I thought you had come here for someone else.” It sounded absurd now, sitting with him here, but still she could not forget the horrible feelings of her ride here. But it would be all right. He still loved her… and it would be all right. Finally, something about this day made sense.

“And now perhaps we can both start fresh…”

[Dairym]

Heather listened wide-eyed as his story unfolded. Here indeed was a tragedy of misunderstandings. Did love always lead to this? Was it the fate of affection to wound deeper than it healed? Heather remembered the grey, closed face of her father, laugh lines creased into frowns, his eyes haunted with the same hopeless question that shadowed this man of Dale. She brushed her hand across her eyes before the tears could gather.

“Will you not help me, Heather?” Ravennar finished. All signs of reserve had long gone. “Although, now that you know my true self, maybe you are not that willing to aid me.”

Heather sat up. She tried to sound indignant, though it came out rather choked. “Now that I know you, sir? What’re you meaning by that, may I ask? Ravennar,” Heather said slowly, “You speak to me with candor and humble yourself without need. It is a fading age indeed if men so lightly condemn one another.” She smiled. “Anyone could tell you that Annuminas is to the north, by Lake Nenuiel, at the very mouth of the Baranduin. Even on foot, it should only take a fortnight to get there.”

[Dimturiel]

Ravennar looked up to catch a better glimpse of Heather when she began talking. The tone of her voice told him that there was something wrong with her. But what? Had he, unwillingly, touched upon things that brought her pain?

Ravennar started, when he heard how near he was to his destination. Was this really possible? Then that meant that he had not failed, after all. He would not return home in shame. He laughed, a clear, honest laugh, as he had not done for a long time.

"Well," he said, becoming serious again, "Now that I think of it, I realise that all this time I was trying to prove so high and mighty, I have been nothing but a great fool."

He smiled at Heather. Suddenly, he clasped her hand.

"I thank you," he told her, "For this and for everything else. I wish to repay you, somehow, and maybe I shall be able to do this some day. And one more thing. If by what I have told you this evening I brought back memories of your own that grieve you, forgive me. It was not my intent.

[piosenniel]

Closing the doors on The Green Dragon Inn

The Green Dragon Inn opened in November of 2002, under the guidance of Dwarin Thunderhammer. Since then it has undergone eleven incarnations and boasts well over 7,000 posts. In April of 2003, The Green Dragon Inn Part 3, a new Innkeeper was introduced, Amanaduial the archer.

It has been an interesting and enjoyable four years, reading the posts of those who first cut their RPG-teeth, so to speak, in The Green Dragon. Hobbits, Elves, Dwarves, Men, Wargs, Orcs, and even a Balrog have passed through the Inn’s doors.

Now those doors are going to close on this last incarnation of The Green Dragon.

A new Innkeeper, Folwren, will offer the hospitality of a new inn – The Golden Perch in Stock, Eastfarthing, the Shire.

> - - - < ~*~ > - - - <

The Golden Perch Inn is now open for posting..

Its timeline will be much earlier than that of the present Green Dragon Inn. There will be a Discussion Thread to accompany the new inn. And each writer for the Golden Perch will need to submit a brief Character Description form to the Discussion Thread when they make their first post to the Inn thread

Please do give a look at the Discussion Thread for the new Inn. And think about designing a new character to come in and take part in the storyline when it opens.

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If everyone is done posting to the Inn, I would like to close it at the end of next week - Saturday, June 24.

~*~ Pio

[Dairym]

"Memories are good, Ravennar, even the sad ones," Heather smiled, quoting one of Maggie's endless proverbs. She looked around. The dancers had begun to wander off; the musicians one by one finished playing. The party was over. "Are you going to stay tonight? Your road is still a long one." Heather sighed quietly. To visit the shores of Nenuiel! She envied his luck. If only...

An obvious solution presented itself. She paused, examining it with unusual daring. Her father would not question her on her trip; he need never know. She had days and days before the harvest when she would truly be needed. As she stood up, the prism bumped against her leg, urging her on.

"Ravennar...would you... do you think I could go with you?" Heather hurried on before he could respond. "I mean I might be of help, you being from foriegn parts, and... and I've always dreamed of visiting Evendim."

[Dimturiel]

Ravennar felt his eyes widen when he heard Heather's request. At first, he could not clearly understand what she wanted to say, so baffled he was. So fate had indeed decided to give him another chance. He tried to ignore the pang of uneasiness that he felt. Was he ready to return among people? Would that not lead him again to sorrow?

Ravennar shook his head. No, he should not think like this. Heather was right, she could help him. And he had grown fond of her, the first friendly face that he had seen in a long time.

He looked arround. Few now remained in the inn yard. The songs had stopped, and in the air the melancholic silence of the night was settling. The time had come for him to move on.

"Very well," he said to Heather, "we shall go. I am glad, Heather, glad that you stumbled upon me, and got me out of my dark brooding. I shall be glad to be your companion, also."

He smiled, gazing at the bright stars high above him. He felt confident, and happy, and young. What had happened in the past was to remain behind, and he would start out as a new person.

[Kath]

Astilwen could see that Tilionwen had picked up on her little evasion and, after watching the war within for a few moments, had decided to question her on it.

"But you didn't answer me completely," Came the sly reply.

Sighing, Astilwen cast her mind back a few months, searching for a way to reply. She was still embarrassed about the whole incident, but after everything Tilionwen had told her that night, it was only fair to offer something in return.

"I met someone back in Hobbiton a while back and we, um, well we sort of got together."

Tilionwen's eyes lit up, and she leant forward. Astilwen followed suit, wanting to keep the conversation a little private, as it was quite possible that there were some people around her who knew her parents.

"We didn't really want anyone else to know you see, especially our parents, as they don't exactly get on, and we didn't want to be stuck in the middle of frosty silences on both sides. So we kept it quiet, and for a while it worked. We got on really well and had fun, but eventually his little brother found us out, and told his parents. We didn't know and kept on meeting up, and on one such occasion his parents and mine suddenly appeared. Well, we were in something of a compromising position and uh, they weren't exactly pleased. It wasn't long after that I decided to leave. My parents were really angry, but they did lecture me over finding someone more 'suitable'. I got fed up with it all and came out here."

Having finished a very shortened version of her tale Astilwen sat back again. Tilionwen's eyes spoke of her sympathy, but the upturned corners of her mouth let slip her amusement. Astilwen couldn't help but smile back. In retrospect the story was amusing, and had been told at quite a few family gatherings since, so she had learnt to laugh at it herself.

Night was so far on now that it was becoming light again. Tilionwen had told her that she would be leaving come morning, and Astilwen did not want to lose her new friend so soon. She knew though that the girl needed to go home, to find her father and sort out some issues, the least of which being learning her own name! Still, they had a couple more hours yet.

"So," she said turning to Tiliowen, "What would you like to do before you leave?"

[Witch_Queen]

As shocked as she was Cree couldn't help but wonder what drove him to leave her the way he did. His death would not mean salvation for her. If ever she was alone she truly was now. He was her everything and now she had nothing. Avalon looked at Cree. The white crow could sense her friends hurting. She wished she could tell Cree everything would be alright, but she knew it wouldn't.

Cree felt something rolling down her cheek. She knew what it was. "Never did I shed a tear for my father, nor did I shed a tear for my fallen friends. But for Fáinu I shed only one tear. No matter how much I am hurting, I can't dwell for loosing him. I will mourn when the time calls but for now Avalon, I must go from these lands. Perhaps I will go back home. Back to the land I left so many years ago. But what will you do my friend. What will happen to the marvelous Avalon the last of her kind, the last of the white crows?"

Cree picked her bags up heading for the door of the Inn. This would be her last time in the shire. Perhaps she would head to Rohan instead? Right now she knew what she had to do. She would walk to the far away shores and make her monument for Fáinu. She would bury his pipe in the sands, where it would stay until the seas washed it away. Fáinu had given her everything she could have ever wanted. She received loyalty, friendship, kindness, and a caring touch, but the one thing she needed most of all she never received, Love. Cree left the Green Dragon Inn going for the shores and then she knew not where she would truly end up.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami had slipped through the backdoor of the Inn when she was sure no one else was paying attention. The common room, usually so noisey and crowded, was nearly empty and eerily silent. She suspected that most of the Inn's former guests had migrated over to the Marrish or to other places in the Shire and Rohan.

Cami felt guilty about coming to the Dragon. She was not supposed to be gallivanting about the Shire. It had ceased to be her home several years before. The Innkeeper had a long list of rules tacked up on the wall and, as a hobbit who had mysteriously disappeared from the Fourth Age, she posed too many thorny issues of canon. Still, too much of her life had been played out here. So many faces had come and gone. She had to stop and pay her respects before the Green Dragon shuttered its doors forever.

Many of the staff had already departed; others were in the process of sweeping the floors, stripping the beds, and clearing out the pantries. How strange that when people moved out of a house or a building they made sure everything was left clean, even when they had not been particularly meticulous while they had actually lived there.

Cami glanced about the large room where the guests had eaten their meals and quaffed their drinks. Packing boxes were stacked up in the middle, each filled to overflowing with a medley of personal possessions. Who did all these memories belong to? Each box was labelled with a name. Cami supposed there would be a box with her own name on it. She wondered what was inside. Letting out a soft sigh, the middle-aged hobbit vigorously shook her head. There was no use going down that road. She was no elf to live in the past. The future, however uncertain, was good enough for her.

Yet she could not leave without saying something. Her small fingers curled tightly about the back of one of the hobbit-sized chairs as she whispered her quiet goodbyes. Her mind raced back to the earlier Innkeeper who had been an Elf and her close friend. Do you remember, Piosenniel? Aman, Regin, Bird, and Mithadan--we had some good times here. This is where I married my husband and I had such troubles with my boys. Do you remember when Hawthorne burned down the Inn, and we had to rebuild? How many newcomers strolled through those doors, some for a single night and others stopping for a long visit? How many celebrations did we have, with the place decked out with flowers and tables loaded with Cook's goodies? You did a good job keeping things in order, though with help from many others, of course. All the names and images melted together as Cami walked to the door and pushed it open for one last time. She was ready to set out on the road.

[piosenniel]

Roads go ever ever on,
Over rock and under tree,
By caves where never sun has shone,
By streams that never find the sea;
Over snow by winter sown,
And through the merry flowers of June,
Over grass and over stone,
And under mountains in the moon.

Roads go ever ever on,
Under cloud and under star.
Yet feet that wandering have gone
Turn at last to home afar.
Eyes that fire and sword have seen,
And horror in the halls of stone
Look at last on meadows green,
And trees and hills they long have known.

The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow, if I can,
Pursuing it with eager feet,
Until it joins some larger way,
Where many paths and errands meet.

The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow, if I can,
Pursuing it with weary feet,
Until it joins some larger way,
Where many paths and errands meet.
And whither then? I cannot say.

The Road goes ever on and on
Out from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone.
Let others follow, if they can!
Let them a journety new begin.
But I at last with weary feet
Will turn towards the lighted inn,
My evening-rest and sleep to meet.

Still 'round the corner there may wait
A new road or secret gate;
And though I oft have passed them by,
A day will come at last when I
Shall take the hidden paths that run
West of the Moon, East of the Sun.

--- JRR Tolkien