[Child of the 7th Age]

Linnahiril Tinnufinwen's post:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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