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Old 04-10-2020, 11:58 PM   #55
Arry
Ghost Prince of Cardolan
 
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Join Date: Jan 2004
Posts: 704
Arry has just left Hobbiton.
Arry tugged on the Elf’s sleeve after only a few steps. “Wait, Miz Pio,” he said slowing his steps. ‘Let’s sit over there for just a bit,” he went on, pointing to a small empty table in the corner. He pulled out a chair for her when they had arrived. He freed himself from his rucksack, hanging it by its straps from the nearest back-post of his chair. His guitar he leaned up against table’s top where it butted against the wall. Arry sat himself down with a sigh.

A passing server, in the meantime, was waved over by Pio, and two small, thick glass tumblers of Dwarven whiskey placed on the table. Arry nodded slightly as he raised his glass and downed it in a single gulp. The Elf sipped at hers, quietly waiting for what he had to say.

Instead, Arry picked up his guitar and began the accustomed routine of putting it in tune. This familiar habit calmed his mind and as he strummed a series of sweet, clear chords, he found the words to tell her the news he’d brought of their friend. Straightforward, plain words.

“It’s Jack, Miz Pio,” he began, playing a short refrain from an old song they both knew. “Jack Pryne.” He smiled, remembering other times when the music had carried them all along. “The old minstrel. You remember. We sang together – him and me and you. That old clapboard shamble of a tavern, down by that harbor… What was its name?” Arry heard the scrape of the Elf’s chair legs as she scooted closer to him. He looked up, into her questioning face.

“He’s passed, Miz Pio. Old Jack. He’s gone on.”
__________________
If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world – J.R.R. Tolkien

Last edited by Arry; 04-11-2020 at 12:25 AM.
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