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Old 01-18-2003, 11:37 PM   #99
Bęthberry
Cryptic Aura
 
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Join Date: May 2002
Posts: 6,159
Bęthberry is wading through snowdrifts on Redhorn.Bęthberry is wading through snowdrifts on Redhorn.Bęthberry is wading through snowdrifts on Redhorn.Bęthberry is wading through snowdrifts on Redhorn.
Boots

Not even the iron-cold blast of gale-like winds as the doors creaked opened was enough to disturb the raucous laughter in the Seventh Star.

It seemed as if everyone was mesmerised by the tale Estelyn was weaving, something to do with a plucky bow and much stringing. Her hands told the story as much as her voice, as they seemed to measure, in their rapid extensions and contractions, some sort of rising and falling action. Whatever the true nature of the story, giddy titters and snickers and hearty chortles rose to echo in the ceiling's rafters.

Bethberry was able to pass into the room unnoticed, hang her cloak on the wall hooks near the Innkeeper's desk, and stand before the hearth, seemingly to warm her chilled bones and blanched flesh while she waited to converse unobtrusively with the Innkeeper. She observed Rimbaud, who to all and sundry appeared the very model of proper Innkeeper deportment. He looked towards her once, and her trenchant gaze saw through his pose, but he would give nothing away--and yet, gave all, with that one glance.

From somewhere outside the Inn, her ears picked up the wavering howl of a stray wolf, a strange sound for the White City, and she knew that matters remained unresolved. She watched Rimbaud until he could feel her eyes upon his secret and then she quietly apprised him of her news; he barely acknowledged her whispered confidence and then she passed on towards the large group of patrons laughing around the storytellers.

Warmed now as much by the rousing, spirited comraderie as by the fire, Bethberry sought out those with whom she might share a plan or two. Conversation had moved on towards the other main story currently making the rounds in Gondor, Gandalf's story of castle curses and lost treasures, of dangerous travel and daring odds. Bethberry looked around for Gamba, but couldn't see the hobbit for all the patrons there that night. Nor could she see Pio, who she knew was hard pressed by the long night watches she had been keeping at the House of Healing. Bethberry sighed as she remembered that Birdie was called away by other demands; she missed the woman's ready humour. Bethberry decided to listen to the discussion of how to approach the castle...

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OOC: In honour of our storytelling, I make here my 1001st post.

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[ January 19, 2003: Message edited by: Bethberry ]
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