The Green Dragon Inn - Part 3

[Annalaliath]

Annalaliath looked at her. " You said something about the Grey Havens." she said looking at the person before her," And something about death and love."

She looked at the others at the table and wondered, sipping her coffee. "I loved once." she whispered into the cup," a while ago."

Looking up again she laughed. A clear laugh that rang in the buzzing inn. " And I shall do so again." Then looking at the table and to nobody she asked, "But any way what is love? I have seen it but is this feeling that one gets or the action one takes? Next time in Lorian I may ask THe Lady of this."

She looked back to the woman, " I have forgotten my name is Annalaliath. What is yours?"

[ April 09, 2003: Message edited by: Annalaliath ]

[ April 16, 2003: Message edited by: Annalaliath ]

[Silmarien]

“I want to hear your tale only if you can tell it to me fully, and without embellishment." Silmarien was quiet for a long time. “Without embellishment?” she mused. “It shall be so.”

She paused again. “In fact I do not truly know the beginning myself”. She shifted took a sip of her ale and began her tale. “My real parents whoever they are, were either killed or forced to abandon me when their village was attacked by Wainriders. I was picked up by a woman who was unable to have children of her own. This is what she has told me. She and her husband brought me up and I came to call them mother and father. They brought me up to fight, for the women of the wainriders fight with the men.”

“The only thing I have from my birth parents is a small dagger found with me at birth.” She produced the weapon and showed Elhor. “There is writing on it but I do not know what it says. Can you read it?”

Éden sat watching the fire as Aeryn had gone off to change her clothes. Hw saw her go up the stairs, and LO! she had met with an elf. Or he supposed it was an elf, but this elf looked the same as Aeryn. Could it be? The Everdawn, the Lady vizier of Dol Amroth?

He watched with some intrest as their conversation took place, Aeryn looked folorn and had gone to the bar and now approached a stranger. He walked after her and grabed her arm. "Who was that old friend? is she your kin?"

[Envinyatar]

‘I do wish to hear the rest of your story, Derufin.’ Piosenniel’s grey eyes regarded his face as he turned back to her from the door.

What could he do but acquiesce. He returned to the kitchen and from there to the springhouse for yet another glass of the iced tea for her. From behind the bar, he grabbed a tall bottle of Southron wine. Rich, and red as blood spilled on a battlefield.

‘Your drink, m’lady,’ he said setting the sweating glass on the small table to the side of her chair. He pulled up another chair to the open window and propped his booted feet on the window’s sill. The cork slid easily from the bottle neck, and he made a small ceremony of pouring the wine into his glass, admiring it with eye, nose, and tongue. He held the glass aloft, the crisp clink of glass on glass breaking the silence of the ritual.

‘To my companions at Pellenor!’ He took a small sip of the wine, then raised it once again. ‘And to you, m’lady and your wee bairns.’ This time he took a longer drink, then set down the near empty glass on the tabletop between the chairs.

He crossed his ankles, still propped on the sill, and sat with his fingers laced across his midriff, staring out through the window. His eyes were not focused on what lay beyond, but rather his sight turned inward, bringing from past to present in one small leap, the freshened memories of that return home. He gathered in his breath quietly, and gave a soft, weighty sigh.

‘Now, where shall I begin . . .’

[Luinfang]

The door opened for probably the thousanth time as Faruom walked in, his dark blond hair sticked to his forehead, accompagnied by a rush of biting rain. In the semi-darkness of the porch he chook out his raincoat and hung it over his arm. A swift smile ran over his face when he entered the great tap-room: he hadn’t expected so many people. The question if he would still have a place to sleep, started to rise in his mind but he suppressed it. Time enough to find a solution. First he should try to get dry again. Dripping and well he made his way to a table near the fire place that was still free and ordered a pint.

Faruom was perfectly happy for a moment or two. Warmth came back into his frozen body from the outside, and the glorious feeling of the beer that runned down his throat was able to shut him up for a while, but at last he banged down the pint and walked over to the bar.

“I am looking for someone,” he announced.
The man next to him looked up. “And what kind of person might that be? A Dwarf perhaps, to prevent your knees from shaking?”

“It is not the kind that interests me, my friend. To be honest, I’m looking for someone with a little courage, and a little manners too, if possible. But it seems to me that one of those cannot be found in you.” The man frowned at him maliciously, but he kept silence. Faruom turned around on his heels with a huge smile and clapped in his hands to get the attention.

“People! I have a little announcement to do: I am looking for some brave, pleasant people – age, gender, race are not important – to accompany me! I have to get in Esgaroth before summer, but I am afraid the Mountains aren’t safe for a lonely traveller. The payment is good, the company even better!” he said. Some people laughed. “I’m not saying the trip will be easy. Anyhow, I will depart the day after tomorrow, at sunrise.”

[ April 10, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Horse-Maiden of the Shire]

"...and so I finally escaped from the prison, and stealing my pony back from the stable, I galloped off into the forest." Aleia sat back in her chair, satisfied with the others' reactions. All was silent for a moment, and then Celandine spoke up. "Did...did that really happen?"

Aleia hesitated and said, "Well...part of it did." The others laughed and Aleia grinned sheepishly. Then she tossed back her hair and laughed as well. Turning to everyone else, she said, "Well, that is enough about me. Tell me about yourselves!"

[Annalaliath]

Annalaliath, slitly distractable from long travle and ale, looked up from her conversation at the newcommer at the door. She laughed. A jubliant thing, full of mirth. Her eyes the same deep blue grey pools of her sarrows now mixed with the lighness of her heart.

She leaned back in her chair and finished her coffee. And turned back to the people at her table. " Do not fear if this love of yours went to the Grey Havens and then to Valinor," she said, " For he may still return if Osse is not satisfied." then she leaned in of the table, " But if he did die, and his soul is in the halls of the dead, you may eventually meet him there. But at any rate so not despair."

The smile faded from her face and the light faded from her eyes, " For there are things that thrive in the dark that live on your dispaire. They drink it up like a fine wine and savore it. Do not give them satifaction!"

[ April 10, 2003: Message edited by: Annalaliath ]

[ April 16, 2003: Message edited by: Annalaliath ]

[Meoshi]

Daethaur noticed that there was a great deal of despair coming from a corner of the room. There an elf was weeping, something about a lost love. There were so many stories being told here that it was hard to follow any of them.

He considered drinking some of the despair wafting across the room, but hesitated; It was Elvish despair, and would probably make him sick. Besides, the drink he had just had was far better. Nevertheless, it was good that the barkeep had refused to prepare another; one could not drink two of something so high-quality in one sitting. He sat down at one of the empty tables, and concentrated on listening to the stories around him. There was much to be heard.

Celandine smiled. She had heard many tales of this sort from Mr. Bilbo and it was nice to hear one again. "Well" she said, "unlike yourself I have never had any adventures like that. I am quite like Wilmac here, I like to stay in the comforts of home. But I have been missing Mr. Bilbo terribly since he left, he was like family to me. We've been writing back and forth, but I wish to see him again. So this shall be my first real adventure."

She smiled and took a sip of her tea. Her life seemed so dull in comparision to Aleia's. But maybe this would be her chance, to have an adventure all her own, and be able to tell her story like Aleia had and be marveled about. Well, she thought, we'll just see.

After taking a bite of stew she said, "So what of you Wilmac? Has anything interesting or exciting ever happened to you? Where are you from, if I may know?"

[Annalaliath]

Annalaliath still serious, turned and looked at Daethaur. Her blue grey eyes peircing the haze of the room. " And yet they come." she murmered under her breath.

She ordered some water at the bar and taking her seat she then took her sward from its sheath and began to sharpen it with her wetstone. Looking at the others at her table she said ," This is Annungalad. It was made for me by an old freind."She paused for a momnet and looked up a queer look on her face," That was a whlile agot too." and then she went back to her notched sword.

[ April 16, 2003: Message edited by: Annalaliath ]

[piosenniel]

Piosenniel settled back in her chair. The twins for once were quiet, and she could breathe easily if she sat just so. Derufin sat silent, his face cast in shadow. Only the occasional clink of the wine bottle against the glass broke the silence surrounding his still form. She could sense his hesitancy, though below it ran a thin desire to open the wound, let out the poisons that festered there.

Comfort prolonged was too much to hope for. The babies were awake and a sharp kick to the already sore spot on her ribs made her gasp. Derufin, roused from his darkling study, looked over at her with concern. He came beside her chair and knelt down, asking what he might do for her.

She smiled and rubbed her side, chiding him gently. ‘There is nothing to worry about.’

‘May I?’ He reached out his hand and placed it firmly against her. There was a vigorous thump against his palm. ‘The girl.’ she said, moving his hand then to the opposite side. A flutter of taps thrilled against his open hand. ‘Her brother.’ he said, grinning. He closed his eyes, and focused on the new lives waiting to meet the world. ‘Keep them safe, Piosenniel.’ he said quietly to her, drawing back his hand. He sat back down in his chair, and raised his glass of wine to her.

‘Let them be safe from shadow, and free from sorrows. For a little while, at least.’

[Rochelle]

He shook his head at Aleia "You truly are a brave hobbit-lass, or a brainless one." He chuckled softly before answering the other hobbit's questions. "My life is incomparible to the amount of excitement dear Aleia has had. I am from right here in Hobbiton. The most exciting thing I see is the occasional party."

He shrugged. "To some it seems dull, but it suits me just fine. I'm sure my courage would be immeasurable when faced with an easterling or an orc, and though I've heard marvelous tales of the elves, I'm not sure how I'd act around one in their natural habitats."

[ April 15, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Sophia the Thunder Mistress]

Morwyn sat, listening to the tale of Nahai's lost love. Her eyes glazed over, as her mind wandered to her own tale. The elf, Annalaliath, had joined the conversation breifly, but now seemed to be immersed in the conversation with the dark creature who sat in the corner sipping a steaming drink.

She looked up at Nahai, whose eyes were still glittering faintly, with tears.

"Your tale is terrible." she said softly, reaching across the table to touch the back of Nahai's hand with sympathy. "Shall I tell you of my own love?" her voice broke. "it was not too long ago... and I lost all." She sighed heavily, both dreading to speak of her dead, and longing for the release it would bring. It had been long since she shared stories with another.

Drawing a deep breath, and not waiting for Nahai's response, she began: "My father was called Anborn, a man of Rohan he bred horses for a living. My mother was of Gondor, the daughter of a captain in the guard, her name was Finduinan. Though the family lived in Rohan I spent much of my early life in Gondor with my mother, who was constantly homesick. My many journeys back and forth accustomed me to travel and hardship, and my father made sure I was well trained with the bow and the short sword for self defense.

When I was 14 Finduinan, my mother, died, but I continued to travel because I loved both the learning and lore of my mother’s people and the pride and independence of my father’s people. My travels stopped however, I met and married Alric Eorwine, one of my father’s friends." Morwyn paused, her eyes filled up with tears as she spoke. "Alric was an ambitious young man who, like my father, bred horses. His reputation was rapidly spreading because of the quality of the horses he bred, and soon we had all we could ask for.

Alric gave me a magnificent war horse on our first anniversary, I named him Leófa-- beloved in the tongue of Rohan, for he was a gift from my beloved. He is my greatest treasure.

My daughter was born when we had been married for two years. My Freya." Morwyn licked her lips, tasting the tears that were already trickling down her face. "Shortly after Freya was born, word came to me that Alric had been thrown. He was training a young stallion at the time, one that proved difficult to manage. He always loved challenges, it was the cause of his success. Would that he had bred ordinary horses and lived!" she sighed, "but he did not, and his bravery was what I loved in him. I ran to him in the field that day, but he was dying. He died in my arms."

Morwyn bent her head in an attempt to hide her tears, but she knew Nahai had seen them. She had to tell the rest, Nahai had trusted her, it was due. She dashed the tears from her eyes and tried to collect her thoughts before she continued.

[Annalaliath]

Annalaliath finished with her sward and put it away. She listened to the story wonding why her own was never told. And then with a start; that shocked her she realized, hers was not of the love they spoke of, but that between mother and child. And child and mother and all that is between.

And any way the sufferings that these shared were too deep and secret for her to break with her stupid little tale. So she listened and tried to comfort when possible ever watchfull of the dark creature at the other table.

[ April 12, 2003: Message edited by: Annalaliath ]

[ April 16, 2003: Message edited by: Annalaliath ]

[Everdawn]

Aeryn's face grew dim. "It was my mother. She is leaving and now, I am free to do what I wish for the rest of the while".

She smiled. "That means that I am going to have the biggest adventure of my life!" She paused. "...and that is all very well, apart from the face that I have no idea where I want to go."

[ April 13, 2003: Message edited by: Everdawn ]

[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman sighed with relief as she came to the gates of Bree. She had travelled from Rohan, not a short or easy journey by any means. Knocking on the door with her oak staff, she shivered slightly in the rain, pulling her grey cloak a little tighter around her slim body. After a second, a flap in the gates snapped back to reveal part of the pudgy watchmans face inside.

"What is your business here, young missus?" His homely voice asked routinely. Aman smiled. The watchmen didnt change much, even over all the years since she had last visited this part of the woods.

"My name is Aman. I am travelling to the Shire to see an old friends and, quite possibly, some new ones as well." Aman smiled as she said this. Pio was indeed an old friend, the pair had known each other for a long time, and the Innkeeper had sent a message to Aman when she had been in Rohan, telling her of her pregnancy. She had anticipated her calling on her some time in the future and so had set out towards the Shire some time ago, in a rather slow and rambling way. The gatekeeper eyed the young woman once more, trying to see her face more clearly under the grey hood which Aman had pulled up against the rain. After a second he nodded.

"Alright then, miss. If you're looking for a place to stay, the Pony is still as excellent a place as ever to stay." The gate door swung open and she walked in. The rain chose this moment to start coming down full pelt, forcing Aman to run, clutching at her staff in one hand and keeping her hood up with the other. She made her way through the slippery, cobbled streets by memory, stopping outside an old building. Glancing up against the onslaught, she was relieved to see the sign of the Prancing Pony being battered by the wind and the rain. Sighing with relief, the young woman pushed open the door of the Inn with her staff and stepped inside, lowering her grey hood to let out a mass of nut brown hair and reveal bright green eyes, set in a pale, slim face.

"Butterbur, could I have a room for a few nights please?" She inquired at the desk. The homely looking old innkeeper squinted through his glasses at her for a moment, then recognised her.

"Aman! Aye, of course, anything for an old aquaintance. How many nights may I ask?"

A cheer from the other side of the bar caught Aman's attention, and she saw a young hobbit climb precariously onto a table, supported by a few friends. His righted himself cleared his throat, using his mug of beer to gesture wildly as he spoke.

"I would like to make a toast!" He called out over the room. The men and hobbits alike cheered wildly at this, all generally happy. Aman was curious; it was evident there had already been an announcement of some kind in the bar that night, for the merrymakers had to have been here for a while to get so red faced. The hobbit seemed encouraged by this cheer and, beaming, he went on. "I would like to make this toast to the good lady Piosenniel of the Green Dragon in the Shire!"

More wild cheering, quieted down by the hobbit. Aman smiled; she knew what was coming next. "For, as you have all heard earlier....Pio is expecting! Twins, no less!"

This time the cheering was almost deafening. The hobbit raised his mug in the air, spilling half the contents in the process and called over the cheers, "To the lady innkeeper of the Dragon and her twins!"

"I will heartily second that," Aman murmered, before turning her attention back to Butterbur, still waiting expectantly for her answer. "Could I have a room for, ooh, three nights?"

"You can, Aman. Just along the corridor, turn right-"

"-And its the second door on your left." Aman finished, grinning, and took the key from the innkeeper. "Just one more thing please Butterbur: could you send a message to Piosenniel of the Dragon, telling her I'm here?"

"Can do, Miss, can do. Anything else?"

"No, thankyou, that will be everything. I think I'll just retire to bed, I think. Goodnight." Smiling once more at the innkeeper, Aman took a candle offered by the innkeeper, and went to her room, still smiling. Looking out of the window in the direction of the Shire through the dark night, she fancied she could see the lights of the Green Dragon there. She nodded in a small salute and sighed.

"Sleep well, Pio. Soon I will come to you." She murmered, before retiring to bed.

[piosenniel]

[img]smilies/smile.gif[/img] [img]smilies/smile.gif[/img] PLEASE NOTE - ALL POSTERS - NEW CHANGE IN INNKEEPER WILL BE COMING UP [img]smilies/smile.gif[/img] [img]smilies/smile.gif[/img]

Over the next week, please follow my posts concerning the new Character who is on her way to the Inn.

Amanaduial the Archer will be taking the position of Assistant Innkeeper in the Shire, starting Monday the 21st. The present Innkeeper character, Piosenniel, will be retiring after she posts the birth of her twins.

However, the real life Piosenniel will be very much in presence, though more behind the scenes, continuing as Moderator, as will Cami (Child of the 7th Age).

Thanks! ~~ Pio, who will occasionally stop in at the Inn for a pint . . . or two . . .

[ April 15, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

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

A Discussion Thread for *~* In the Footsteps of the Grey Company *~* has opened up to take on characters.

Please read the Characters Needed list carefully and make up a good character for the Game, then post it on the discussion thread for the Game.

Players who have never been in a game on the Barrow Downs will have first priority.

Find the Discussion Thread HERE

[ April 12, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Horse-Maiden of the Shire]

Aleia nodded and said slyly, "Well, the best way to find out is to try it." But Will was firm in his ways. "No, no, no. I absolutely refuse to go on an 'adventure', as you call it. Should be called death-traps."

Aleia sighed and rolled her eyes. No matter how much she tried, Will was not going to agree to going on an adventure. Some hobbits were just like that. As she shifted her weight on the chair, her bow and quiver slid over to the right, revealing themselves to her comerades. Will noticed and said, "What weapons do you carry, lass?"

Placing her things back in their former locations, Aleia answered, "A simple bow and a quiver of arrows. My trademark is dark blue, as you can see." She pulled out an arrow and showed them the feathers at the end.

They all nodded. Aleia remarked, "My, we do nod a lot," producing chuckles from her tablemates. Turning to Arawethiel, she said, "We have heard my tale, and also Wilmac's and Celandine's. What of yours, lady?"

[ April 12, 2003: Message edited by: Horse-Maiden of the Shire ]

[Envinyatar]

Pio moved uncomfortably in her chair. ‘Shall we walk a little?’ he offered, extending his hand to her. The night was warm, and there was no need for her to have her cloak on. He linked his arm in hers as they left the Inn – to steady her on the unlit path, he thought to himself; though he knew her eyes would have no problem with the darkness.

He enjoyed the nearness of her. It set his mind thinking fondly of Lothronien and the nights they had walked under the stars. His children had been lively, too, in the womb, and often the only way for her to be comfortable. Lost in dreams, he did not hear her question at first.

‘Pardon, m’lady?’ He saw her smile as her face turned to him, and the starlight reflected merrily in her eyes. ‘Lothronien,’ she repeated. Her brow furrowed for a moment, ‘And Meldë and Dirgan. Who are they that you recall them with such happiness.’

‘My wife, m’lady. Lothronien.’ His voice faltered, and he drew a ragged breath. ‘And my children. Meldë, my daughter, and Dirgan, my son.’

She said nothing, only held his arm a little tighter, knowing that he would speak when he could. Silence claimed them as they passed down the path, then he spoke again, quietly.

‘We made our way home, once the fighting was done, and Aragorn was assured his Kingship. To the outskirts of Ethring, we returned.’ He paused in his stride, his voice now very low. Returned, only to find our own homes burned, our families slain. A roving band of Orcs had swept through this area, destroying land, life, and dwelling as they passed under cover of darkness.’

‘My wife was slain, as was my daughter. Their bodies burnt. I found only the charred bones in the ashes of our house. I held the small skull of my son in my hands. I found it near the bones of Lothronien. He was not yet born, when I left. This was the first and only time that I held him.’

Derufin’s voice faltered and grew quiet again. ‘Three of us who returned stayed, to rebuild their lives there. The two others left, one to the arms of the wide sea, and the other to a life of rootless wandering.’ He stopped, and turned to look at her.

‘It was I who was the wanderer. Outrunning memories that shadowed each step.’

[Everdawn]

Umbria returned down the stairs, she placed her bag on the floor. Alaemas and Dolemar were waiting.

"Are you ready lady?" Alaemas said taking her bag. "Nearly, there is something I must do." she went over to the barperson and placed a bag full of gold coins down. "This is to cover all my fees, plus some. I want you to say goodbye to Pio for me next time you may see her, and to say this for me, may the Valar shine apon her new born children when they come."

She nodded and returned to the door of the Inn. Outside, there were three horses, one for each of the travellers. Dolenmar and Alaemas were mounted. Umbria mounted her horse. She looked back only once, and though of the memories the Shire had brought her. And with the flick of the horse's tails, they were on their way back to Dol Amroth.

[piosenniel]

‘It was I who was the wanderer. Outrunning memories that shadowed each step.’

Pio took his arm once again and turned back toward the Inn. They had come far from it, and she was growing weary. Derufin had grown silent once more, withdrawing deeper into his thoughts with each step. He almost missed her question as he probed at the soreness of these newly brought up memories.

‘M’lady,’ he said inclining his head toward her as they walked along. ‘Did you just say something?’

‘It was a selfish question, Derufin. Nothing worth repeating. I have grown fond of your company and am loth to lose it.’ A small night breeze had come up as they neared the Inn, and she leaned closer against his arm, seeking warmth.

‘Ask me, I will answer as I can.’

She shivered against the cool air, and the uncertainty of his answer. ‘Is the need still there to run from the memories . . . or, will you stay this time?’

[Annalaliath]

Annalaliath continued to listin to the stories as she tok out the battered book and This time she braught out ink. This ink was differnt from the plain black ink that was ued every where; this was colored inks. Green, blue, black, red, of course purpel, and black. This was the ink of artists and scribes. She was now stting at a tabke and felt comfortalbe setting up.

She started to draw a scene from her memory. This was the start of her realease. The portrate of a child started to take shape. And still she listened, bloting the paper no and again. Her pens scratcinh away as she sat there in silnce, listening.

Her blond hair did fall in the ususal manner as she bent over that papaer. it also was dipped ito wt ink now and agin, turingit black in these places, but still she worked and litend.

[ April 16, 2003: Message edited by: Annalaliath ]

[Novhloke]

Sleep came over Novhloke's eyes while listening to the stories, he began to image how it would be if he could tell a story.

Suddenly he fell asleep. He awoke after hearing a hoarse laughter from the circle of storytellers."Must have dosed off, i should stop ordering more ale" he thought.
"Mr. Novhloke, you really do snore while you sleep, why you scared us silly when you awoke with that loudsnort. Would you be needing more ale?" the keeper asked to change the subject.
"No thank you, i think i have had enough,i dont want to be dozing off and scareing you again."
He took out his pipe and some weed, and began to puff small smoke circles and listening to the stories again. "better get to sleep, im quite tired and it sure is as dark as the color black outside"

[piosenniel]

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*WANTED!*+*+*+*+*+*EVIL CREATURES*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*

CHARACTERS NEEDED FOR NEW RPG - to harass a group of Dwarves and Humans seeking to find a treasure; part time posters accepted.

If you are interested, please click HERE.

Read the storyline description and see the section on Characters Needed, then fill out the Character Description form found there, and post your character to the Discussion Thread.

In the Footsteps of the Grey Company, owned by Meoshi should be a fun game to try out an evil character in. Give it a try!

[piosenniel]

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*DWARVES NEEDED*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*

Try your character writing skills for Meoshi's exciting and dangerous hunt for mysterious treasure!

See the Discussion Thread for: In the Footsteps of the Grey Company

Click HERE.

[Rochelle]

The lady from Bree seemed hesitant to talk and so his eyes drifted once more to the bow and arrow that accompanied Aleia. "Who taught you to shoot that there thing?" His hand went to play with his chin.

Weapons were a very intriguing thing for Will, and he had not seen many of them. Not for a long time at least. Danger was not present much in the Shire, so use of protection wasn't necessary.

[ April 15, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Carrûn]

A small man, short and stocky in build approached the Inn from side door closest to the stables. He coughed several times and blinked rapidly. The dust from the road had left his throat and eyes incredibly dry. Fortunately it was cold outside and the latter half of his journey had not been under the blazing heat of the Sun. He stretched and everything cracked. He paused, as if surprised at how uncomfortable his joints were. Grinning to himself at the sounds coming from the Inn he opened the door and walked in.

It was a fairly pleasent sight that greeted his eyes. Many were stitting by the fire, others at tables or the stools near the bar. Choosing the last of the three locations for himself, he sat down with a somewhat exaggerated groan and ordered "the largest thing you've got." He sat back and attempted to relax. He was on his way to Bree, but hoped to deliver a message as well as get a good nights sleep in the process.

[Maegaladiel]

Nahai bowed her head to the elf woman.

"Forgive me for not answering you immediately, lady Annalalaith. How rude of me. My name is Nahai, of... of the Beornings." It was the first time she had ever introduced herself as such, and it felt rather strange. She rarely told anyone of her heratage, and here she was, blabbing it out to anyone who so much as looked in her general direction. But she felt she could trust Annalalaith. She had such an understanding face and a musical laughter that seemed to put everyone who heard it in a lighter mood.

"Thank you for your consolations, milady." she said. "you give me hope, even if it is a small hope, of ever seeing my beloved Celecu again." Then she turned to Morwyn. Nahai dearly wanted to comfort Morywn, but her people skills were somewhat lacking. She couldn't imagine how terrible it must have been to lose both husband and child, leaving nothing but her horse and her memories. Suddenly, she felt as though she knew what she should do. She removed a long, thin bag from her swordbelt, gingerly placing its precious contents on the bar. It was a wooden flute, beautifully carved with the images of leaves and vines, birds and deer, and scripted elvish runes. She held the instrument in her hands as though it was some priceless jewel.

"Music hath charms to sooth the savage beast in man and nature," she said. "When I feel that all hope is lost, I play this. It..It helps relieve the pain." She placed the flute in Morwyn's hand. "I'd like you to have it. I hope it will help you as it did me." she said. Red tinged the apples of her cheeks. That sounded very lame. Dear Valar, her gift of speech was about as great as an orc's gift of beauty. Averting her eyes, she hoped Morwyn didn't think her to be a complete idiot.

[Annalaliath]

Annalaliath looked up from the drawing and smiled, a sad smile, but still as comforting as a sad smile could be. But still this new drawing was done. It was a childs face but it looked as though it were looing from the surface a mirror.

She looked at the other lady at the table and said," the loss of a child is hard to beare. And equally the loss of a husband is almost as bad." The she straitened and narrowed her eyes, " But the halls of Mandos the spirits of the dead meet, although i donot know where the spirits of men and other go. But take heart."

SHe then looked at the both of them and a;ughed, " I have a story but, it is not lioke yours, " she looked away at them and then revealed the drawing, quetly.

[ April 16, 2003: Message edited by: Annalaliath ]

[Novhloke]

Novhloke's sweaty hands quickly ran to the hilt of his elvish sword, as if startled from a black dream. 'Hearing of Balrogs, The Nazgul and Black things from the land of shadow is not a bedtime story.' he told himself.
He looked up, and as he did the storyteller was seemingly finishing his story, a sad and black one, but non the less entertaining.'Quite entertaining for the orcs in Minas Ithil!' chuckled Novhloke
With that note he grasped for his pipe and some weed, he seached and searched for his matches. He found none.'Oy!' he said, and smacked himself 'were did my matches go? clumsy me!'
'ey, you have a match i can use, i seem to have forgotten mine.'
'Why sure Mr. Novhloke!' said a hobbit in the usual hobbit way.
'Thanks a bunch, you might not be needin' weed? would you, i got plenty'
'Why no tanks kind sir, we have a bunch, and we have more at home, sitting in the garden growing, growing, and growing, soon were going to smoke them in here, listening to wonderfull tales of these folk from all over the place!'
'Well nice seeing you, good-bye' Novhloke ended the discussion.
He lit the match and smoked the pipe.

Then a strange man walked in.

[Sophia the Thunder Mistress]

Morwyn took the wooden flute in her hand, running her fingers over the grain. She glanced up graefully at Nahai, through eyes that were red and beginning to puff.

"Thank you, my friend." She she said softly, "your gift means much to me." She shook her head ruefully, with a crooked smile, "I know not how to play..." her words trailed off. She didn't want to offend Nahai who offered her such a gift, it looked old.

Nahai reached a hand hesitantly across the table and pushed to flute back toward Morwyn, as she tried to give it back. "Keep it." she said gently, "you will learn to play in time. Mimic the birds..." Morwyn smiled at her friend's words and clutched the flute to her chest.

The elf girl, Annalaliath, had finished and was now drawing, a portrait of a child in colored inks. Morwyn had been crying too hard to notice when the girl rejoined the group, but she had heard her kind words to Nahai, and she turned to her. "Thank you, also." she said with a slight smile.

"Now," she continued, "the time for tears is ended!" She wiped her eyes clean with the heel of her hand, and called out to a server who was passing, "Another drink for me, and for my companions!" She knew that the others could see that her gaity was false, but there was a limit to how much of her grief Morwyn could expose to the world. It was threatening to overwhelm her.

The drinks were brought, and the three women sat and sipped them reflectively, despite Morwyn's call for mirth. After finishing her drink Morwyn excused herself from the table, in desperate need of solitude.

Leaving the inn she made for the stable, pressing her face into the warm neck of her horse. She drew strength from him, as she always did, going about the everyday tasks of caring for him. Even though the inn's staff fed Leofa while she stayed, she went through the motions of checking his water, running her hands over his legs, picking the knots from his glossy tail.

When she finished she remembered Nahai's flute. It was tucked down the the side of her skirt. She pulled it out and looked at it carefully. The delicate elven carvings all over were deeply shadowed in the dim light of the stable. She breathed in deeply, smiling at the kindness of the woman who had given it to her. Putting it to her lips she blew it softly. A clear note emerged. Shifting the position of her fingers she blew again. A different tone, piercing and lovely, greeted her. She smiled again, this time broadly. She would learn to play.

[Nerindel]

A Stranger enters the inn, the race and gender of this stranger is hidden by a very weather stained dark cloak. The stranger is holding his/her right hand over his/her left shoulder, in the left hand is a short bow with the string broken.

The stranger takes a quick glance around the room then walks straight up to the innkeeper and whispers "I am Fawian Nimsul, a ranger of the north and I require a room, some hot water and fresh bandages". The innkeeper nods and directs her to her room.

Fawian enters the room, she is suprised to see that the water and bandages are already there. She removes her cloak and taking some galenas leaf from her pouch and proceeded to bathe and dress her wound.

With this done she decides it's time for a drink and a hot meal, So she heads back down stairs.She orders a bottle of wine and a bowl of hot stew, then finds a table so she can listen to the many song and tales that are being told.

[Arawethiel]

Arawethiel yawned after listening to the tales the hobbits had told of themselves. She began to feel very weary and it seemed her journey had finally caught up with her. Arawethiel was so drowsy she missed Aleia's kind question to find out more about her past.

She blinked and found she could not keep her eyelids from drooping. Aleia was about to answer Wilmac's question about her bow and arrows when she noticed Arawethiel nodding off. "Arawethiel, it seems you are getting weary, perhaps you should go up to your room and get some sleep." Arawethiel could not help but agree and said "I thank you for your companionship. I regret not being able to continue our talk because I love hearing all of your tales. However, my body demands I retire. I hope I shall be able to speak to you all again before I depart."

Arawethiel tottered to her feet and gave a curtsy to the hobbits at the table. Celandine, Wilmac, and Aleia all bid her farewell and a good night's rest. She waved good-bye and then climbed up the stairs to her room. She barely shut the door behind her before she collapsed on the bed exhausted having a dreamless sleep.

[ April 14, 2003: Message edited by: Arawethiel ]

[Beruthiel]

Carnefeniel woke suddenly from deep sleep. She was lying on the ground in the stable with her horse."Oh gosh I fell asleep in a stable!" she mumbled to herself. She got up slowly rubbing her grey eyes and yawning. Her hair and clothes were covered with straw and hay. She stood up and dusted it all off, and adjusted her white dress.

She patted her horse again and walked back towards the inn. She pushed open the door and was surprised by all the newcomers inside."You must have slept for ages!" she thought to herself. It was lovely and warm and Carne walked over to the bar and ordered a drink. She sat down and watched and listened to the people talk while she waited.

[Annalaliath]

Annalaliath in a postion to see the door watches as Fawian Nimsul walks in. Annalaliath watches the epesode and looks over to Morwen as she left to the stables. " Well, what is there to speak about that won't brind tears?"

She got up and went out into the court yard and looked at the sky. Wondering at the beuty of it all, and thinking of the things lost, and found. She yearned above all else to be back in the safty of the trees and libraries of her home.

She was now wrapedin her mudd spattered cloak, now dark in the night. Her face still had the smudges of charcoal on them and her hair still had a few locks now black with ink. Her skin seemed lumanecent in the moon light and her eyes were still grey blue but full of memory and saddness. She could think of nothing that was light hearted at the moment, and it showed on her face. She looked up at the stars and moon, her brows knitt, and on silver tear rolled down her cheak.

She wiped it away furiusly and walked back into the inn and back to the bar. She sat with Nahi and was silent. She looked at her drink and just stared at it.

[ April 16, 2003: Message edited by: Annalaliath ]

[piosenniel]

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*DWARVES NEEDED*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*

Try your character writing skills for Meoshi's exciting and dangerous hunt for mysterious treasure!

See the Discussion Thread for: In the Footsteps of the Grey Company

Click HERE.

[piosenniel]

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*WANTED!*+*+*+*+*+*EVIL CREATURES*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*

CHARACTERS NEEDED FOR NEW RPG - to harass a group of Dwarves and Humans seeking to find a treasure; part time posters accepted.

If you are interested, please click HERE.

Read the storyline description and see the section on Characters Needed, then fill out the Character Description form found there, and post your character to the Discussion Thread.

In the Footsteps of the Grey Company, owned by Meoshi should be a fun game to try out an evil character in. Give it a try!

[Luinfang]

“Excuse me, ladies,” Faruom spoke to Morwyn en Nahai, “for overhearing your private conversation. But I think this is an important matter. First of all I wish to express my sympathy. Second comes the reason why I decided to barge in the conversation. You spoke of a man called Anborn, didn’t you? Living in the plains of Rohan? The reason why I ask this is rather simple: some months ago I departed from Minas Tirith, where I had lived the last ten years of my life. On my trip I slept in many places, and I passed through Rohan too. There it was an elder man accommodated me.”

“his name was Anrod. He didn’t tell me much, and I did not ask either. I don’t know if he had a daughter that left the country as soon as her husband died. But I know of a story about a certain Alric, that was told in the neighbourhood. It is strange to hear it again here, over five hundred miles to the north.”

Faruom made a clumsy gesture. “I am sorry if this offended you in any way,” he said. “anyways, can I take a seat?”

[Maegaladiel]

Nahai watched Morwyn leave, started to follow her, and then thought better of it. The woman needed solitude.

Instead Nahai turned to Annalalaith. She looked with great wonder at the drawing of the child she held.

"It's beautiful," she said. "You are very talented, milady." Then Nahai smiled, almost apologetically.

"Forgive me, you have been trying to tell us a story, and we've done nothing but talk of our own misfortunes. Please, tell us your tale." She leaned forwards in her seat, eager to hear the mysterious elf maiden's story.