The Green Dragon Inn - Part 4 - The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum

06-23-2003, 09:30 PM

As Dûrvagor walked back into the inn, along with Eladain, he sat down at the closest open table towards the fire. While he looked at the catechism of flame and wood, he thought to himself. He thought of nothing of importance, just something to pass time in this fine inn. While straying away from his thoughts, he saw a moth. It wasn’t a moth of majesty or a moth of beauty, just a plain, old moth. It was heading into the fire; not knowing the flames would engulf him. But, it still was on its journey towards death, slowly fluttering. Snap! The moth was no more, just another addition to the collecting ashes.

While looking at the flames, the fireplace, the mantle, he remembered his fireplace that he would sit in front of when he was a child.

It was in the late Third Age, living in his small house outside of Osgiliath, with his parents sitting in their designated chairs. His father was a retired ranger, mother was tailor, and he was just a young boy, pretending to be fighting orcs, slaying giant oliphaunts, and reenacting the defeat against Sauron himself! Of course these all being trees and twigs he had stuck into the ground in order for them to stand-up. Then Dûrvagor would slash at them with his wooden sword—

“Dûrvagor,” yelled Eladain, thinking he was in a trance and trying to get him out of it.

“Yes,” Dûrvagor responded in a normal fashion.

“Okay, I was just making sure you were okay,” Eladain explained.

“Don’t worry, I’m alright,” he concluded, smiling at his fond memories of his childhood. But little did he know then, that those 'games', would soon become real.

[ June 24, 2003: Message edited by: Dûrvagor Cormyr ]

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06-23-2003, 09:30 PM	#11
Dûrvagor Cormyr Guest Posts: n/a	As Dûrvagor walked back into the inn, along with Eladain, he sat down at the closest open table towards the fire. While he looked at the catechism of flame and wood, he thought to himself. He thought of nothing of importance, just something to pass time in this fine inn. While straying away from his thoughts, he saw a moth. It wasn’t a moth of majesty or a moth of beauty, just a plain, old moth. It was heading into the fire; not knowing the flames would engulf him. But, it still was on its journey towards death, slowly fluttering. Snap! The moth was no more, just another addition to the collecting ashes. While looking at the flames, the fireplace, the mantle, he remembered his fireplace that he would sit in front of when he was a child. It was in the late Third Age, living in his small house outside of Osgiliath, with his parents sitting in their designated chairs. His father was a retired ranger, mother was tailor, and he was just a young boy, pretending to be fighting orcs, slaying giant oliphaunts, and reenacting the defeat against Sauron himself! Of course these all being trees and twigs he had stuck into the ground in order for them to stand-up. Then Dûrvagor would slash at them with his wooden sword— “Dûrvagor,” yelled Eladain, thinking he was in a trance and trying to get him out of it. “Yes,” Dûrvagor responded in a normal fashion. “Okay, I was just making sure you were okay,” Eladain explained. “Don’t worry, I’m alright,” he concluded, smiling at his fond memories of his childhood. But little did he know then, that those 'games', would soon become real. [ June 24, 2003: Message edited by: Dûrvagor Cormyr ]