The Vineyard Tavern

[Bêthberry]

OOC

Open a new keg! We have some new members of Rohan to celebrate.

Congratulations are due to Nuranar for founding and running the very successful game Wilderness, Weathertop, and Wild Things with the always-able Envinyatar. Welcome to full status in Rohan as Game Player and Game Founder, Nuranar!

From the same game we welcome Primrose Bolger and Saurreg as Game Players to Rohan. Good characterisations, cooperative work, and good ability to move the action forward, both you!

I also ought to commend current Rohan Gamers Envinyatar, Esgalhugwen, Fordim, Kransha, and Meneltarmacil for good work in this game as well.

I particularly enjoyed the very creative naming of characters in this game. Names can sometimes be difficult to create, but every one of the characters in this game was superbly named.

Come join some festivities at either of Rohan's glorious Inns!

Bêthberry,
Moderator for Rohan

[Ealasaide]

The stablemaster watched with dire misgivings as his old friend Bragorn climbed the ladder up to the roof - presumably - to rescue Ærosylle, or at least to convince her to come down. He had meant to go himself, but Bragorn had insisted that with five sisters at home, he would be well-qualified to talk to the girl. But, Rochadan thought to himself, that was precisely the problem with sending him: Bragorn, among other things, liked to hear himself talk and could go on forever if you let him. Rochadan watched as Bragorn reached the top of the ladder, waved at them all on the ground, then flopped over on to his back on the warm thatch of the barn roof. He could hear the rumble of Bragorn’s voice, talking away, as Ærosylle remained perched near the roof’s peak. As Bragorn’s dangling foot landed on the top rung of the ladder and began moving the entire ladder idly back and forth, Rochadan exchanged a glance with Kannah, who still held the poker he had given her earlier.

“Well, do something,” she said crossly, placing her hands on her hips. “If you leave it up to your friend, we’ll be out here all day.”

Rochadan laughed. “Between him and Ærosylle, we could be, at that.” He stepped closer to the base of the ladder and put out a hand to stop its restless sway.

“Ho, Bragorn!” he called up to his friend. “What’s happening up there? Are you planning to come down?”

In response, Bragorn pulled up his feet. Presently, his face appeared over the edge of the roof. “Well, yes, I am, but there’s a wee problem. You see, the ladder doesn’t like me and we haven’t figured out just yet what to do about it.”

Behind Rochadan, Kannah called out, “The ladder’s not the only one who doesn’t like you, you know!” She brandished the poker.

Bragorn laughed loudly and kissed his hand at the serving girl. “Later, my love! You may abuse me to you heart’s content, but right now it’s the ladder’s turn.”

The ladder? That sounds like a bit of Ærosylle’s nonsense, thought Rochadan to himself. He groaned inwardly. She was always telling people things like that, that the stair didn’t like you, or the door was a grump. Leave it to Bragorn to believe her.

“What do you mean the ladder doesn’t like you?” he asked. “It’s just some wood and nails.”

“Well, that’s what Ærosylle tells me.” Bragorn withdrew his face for a moment to say something to the girl at the peak of the roof. Rochadan could have sworn he heard the words: See? I told you it was Rochadan that the ladder’s angry with. Such an attitude!

Behind him, Kannah threw up her hands as Bragorn’s face reappeared at the edge of the roof. “We can’t come down until we figure out what to do about the ladder,” Bragorn said pleasantly. “Have you got another one?”

At that, Rochadan felt a flare of temper. “No, we haven’t got another one!” he shouted. “There’s nothing wrong with this one. In fact, I just mended it this afternoon.” He was just putting his foot on the lowest rung of the disputed ladder to climb up himself when a shadow passed over him. Looking up quickly, he saw the dark brown body of a large hawk with a brilliant red tail sail over the roof of the stable, barely missing Bragorn before rising upward on a fresh thermal. Out of sight of Rochadan, Ærosylle shrieked. Rochadan shot up the ladder as quickly as he could go.

[Imladris]

"The ladder is a most aggravating fellow," said Ærosylle pleasantly as she cuddled herself into the straw. "He's very straight you know -- he makes sure you know that he is upset with you. But sometimes he's a bit narrowminded too...and he doesn't forgive all at once." She nodded her head solemnly.

Oustide Rochadan was shouting words outside and she listened with interest. Silly man who didn't believe that the ladder was upset.

"It's not just wood and nails," she informed Bragorn. "It's a ladder and if Rochadan cannot see when it is upset then...." her voice trailed off delicately and she shook her head.

She heard the stablemaster shout, "No, we haven’t got another one!” he shouted. “There’s nothing wrong with this one. In fact, I just mended it this afternoon."

Sighing Ærosylle explained, "The reason we don't have another one is because this one is insanely jealous, aren't you?" she asked, patting the ladder as if it was a dog.

At that moment a monstrous bird with a crimson tail soared above, diving straight for Bragorn. Ærosylle shrieked with delight screaming, "She wants to take you with you, Bragorn!" But the bird went away, flying away into the clouds. Ærosylle sighed and said, "If I were a bird I would have taken you with me."

Below, she could here Rochadan climbing up the ladder. As his head appeared over the ladder she said, "It's a good thing the ladder has forgiven you. I would like some tea, and to see if my friend the elf has come back."

Standing, she waited for Rochadan to descend.

[Bêthberry]

Another bird appeared in the sky, not as large as the one with the crimson tail which had so intrigued Ærosylle but still a swift and mighty flyer. He flew unerrantly and directly towards the tavern, his wide wing span marking a rhythmic swoop and lift which brought him closer and closer. Yet there was no glee or joy inspired by his appearance. Rather, an aura of doom.

As the bird--bird of prey it could now be seen, a falcon--come closer there also could be seen in his beak a roll of something. It was not meat or carrion, for the bird held it without biting or chewing. And as the creature came near the Vineyard, it swooped long and low by the stablemaster, surprising him but not upsetting him from the ladder. And then swiftly the bird flew into the Tavern, depositing the scroll at the feet of Andhun. The lad picked it up, read it with dismay and melancoly sorrow and looked around for the Innkeeper. Not seeing Finian, he tacked the scrll to the large door of the Vineyard Tavern and stepped back to reread the sombre words.

Bring our your guests! Bring out your guests! The Vineyard is being sold.

By decree of the Mayor and Treasurer of this fair city, it is herebye decreed that in forfeit of taxes and other debts owing, ownership of the Vineyard Tavern has been assumed by the City, which has auctioned it off to the highest bidder. Patrons are encouraged to complete their business as soon as possible or within the next seven business days, upon which time deed of ownership will be turned over to Master Harsten, who will turn the property into a manufacturing enterprise.

Gasps of outrage and shock marked every reading of the scroll, yet none could deny that poor young master Finian and his sister had fallen indeed upon hard times.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

OOC

Sadly, Imladris has had to withdraw from most gaming enterprises on the BarrowDowns and with her departure the Vineyard Tavern will be closed. It has attracted a splendid crew of gamers with a fascinating mix of characters. Any who wish to provide some closure for their characters can write concluding posts. I will leave the thread up and open for a week to allow for imagination to percolate. And I then invite everyone to join the The White Horse Inn.

Bêthberry
Moderator for Rohan

[Nurumaiel]

Cynan came skipping up the lane, whistling cheerfully. Ah, and there was the Vineyard Tavern! He had decided to come and see how Andhun was getting along. True, it hadn't been so very long since he had left the first time, but Andhun was such a frail little fellow, and no doubt needed looking after. Up the walkway he tripped... and paused in dismay.

What was this milling about of the guests, this shock, dismay, and even despair upon their faces? What was the awful thing that had occurred? Cynan's eyes roved desperately for Andhun. There he was! He was sitting upon the grass with his head bowed and tears, which he valiantly fought against, shining in his eyes. Cynan hurried forward, knelt down beside him and awkwardly patted his shoulder. "There, there, Andhun," he said. "Whatever is bothering you, don't let it. I'll take care of you." He paused, and looked again at all the unhappy faces. "What is bothering you?" he questioned.

"The Tavern is being sold," said Andhun, gesturing despairingly towards the notice, "and now I have nowhere to go... except... except... except to my old master." He could not fight the tears any longer. They streamed down his cheeks and he tried desperately to stop the shaking of his shoulders.

"Now, that can't happen!" said Cynan, his eyes flashing. "We'll never send you back to that evil man, Andhun, never. I'll die first."

"I have nowhere to go except to him," said Andhun.

"We'll find somewhere for you to go," said Cynan. He stood, went to the notice, and glanced over it. "Why," he said, "if I were a wealthy boy I would pay of all those debts of the Innkeeper, and then you could stay here, Andhun. But that's no help at all, because I'm not wealthy." He sat down wearily. "We'll think of something," he said. "You're not going back to your master, even if I have to become wealthy in one day."

"You're so good," said Andhun, brushing at the flowing tears and attempting to smile. "I'll try to be cheerful, really I will. I know you won't let me go back there."

"You're wholly right," said Cynan. "I won't. Now smile even wider, Andhun, because you don't have anything to worry about."

So Andhun smiled wider. But whether he would allow Andhun to worry or not, Cynan could not deny that that very emotion, worry, pervaded his own heart.

[Ealasaide]

Rochadan ducked as the falcon flew low over his head and dropped the scroll at Andhun's feet. Seeing the boy pick it up and tack it to the front door of the inn, Rochadan felt a strong sinking sensation in his stomach. He exchanged a somber glance with Bragorn, then lowered his head and climbed quickly down the ladder. Forgetting the alleged crankiness of the ladder, Bragorn and Ærosylle followed. For once, Bragorn was quiet.

By the time Rochadan reached the door and the scroll, Andhun had already been joined by Cynan, Andhun’s friend of earlier in the day. Both boys seemed to be trying very hard to put a brave face on what was very bad news. Rochadan gave them each a nervous smile, then leaned forward to read the notice. As his dark eyes reached the end, the part about the property being bought out by Harsten of all people, Rochadan’s face flushed with rage. It was such an insult that this place that he and Finian had rebuilt from the ashes with their own hands should go to such a monster... and to be used as a place for manufacturing.

Behind him, Bragorn blew out a long breath. “Harsten... oy, that’s an ugly thing for sure. And the inn seemed so prosperous, too.” He shook his head.

The first flash of rage passed, Rochadan just nodded, speechless. He had known that Finian was struggling, but he had had no idea that things had come to such a point. Finian had said nothing about it, shouldering all of the worry on his own. Rochadan shook his head. “If only Finian had said something...” he said at last. “I have a bit of money saved up. I might have been able to, if not prevent this, put it off long enough for us to find a decent buyer for the place. Someone who might preserve the place and keep it open as an inn. But this!” He threw up his hand.

Bragorn again shook his head. “What will you do?” he asked quietly.

Rochadan shrugged. “Go back to riding, I suppose.” Pausing, he looked around the crowded yard. As his gaze happened upon Andhun, whom he had briefly forgotten in the wake of reading the terrible news, he forced a smile back on to his face. Walking over to the two boys, he nodded to Cynan and placed a hand on Andhun’s shoulder.

“You mustn’t be afraid, Andhun,” he said kindly. “You will always have a home with me and with Sallie. Before I took care of the stables here at the Vineyard, I was a rider and a long distance messenger, like Bragorn here. I can always go back to it.” His face softened. “In fact, the pay is much better. With the money I make, I can easily afford a little cottage here in Esgaroth for us to live in. If you would come along, it would be of tremendous help to me, too. You see, if I return to the road, I shall need someone around to play with Sallie. She is very fond of you already.”

“But, sir,” Andhun began to object softly.

Rochadan gave the boy’s shoulder a squeeze. “Of course, you would not be left alone. I shall have to find a housekeeper, too, but I have friends about town. Here at the inn, even. And your friend Cynan, here, would always be welcome to come about. It will work out. So, what do you say? Can I count on you?”

[Nurumaiel]

Andhun studied the ground, his heart throbbing with the surge of emotions that had swept over him in the space of a few minutes. Sorrow... fear... despair... relief... joy... gratefulness. He could see himself sitting with Sallie when she was lonely and singing songs to her. He saw himself helping Rochadan with those little jobs it didn't hurt him to do. He would be free to look for his sister. He looked up, his eyes shining with tears of thankfulness. "Yes, sir," he said, lifting his burned and scarred little chin. "You can count on me."

"Hurrah!" said Cynan, and he danced a little jig. Then he caught Rochadan's hand and shook it heartily. "You're a good man, such a very good man," he said. "If I had thought of it, I would have offered to take Andhun, too, you know... but since I'm already working my heart out to take care of my mother, it's a wonderful thing of you to take Andhun. I'll visit whenever I can and if I have a spare day I'll help Andhun watch over Sallie. And we'll look for your sister, Andhun, we surely will. And we'll play as long and happily as ever we want. And - " here his eyes twinkled with mischief " - we'll come here often and throw pebbles through the windows at Harsten's guests." He raised his chin in aloof dignity. "I will never come here as a guest. No really good person would ever stoop so low as to go to the Tavern when Harsten was in charge."

Andhun said nothing, but his eyes still shone, and the tears still spilled down his cheeks.... tears of happiness.