Legacy of Traitors RPG - The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum

Thengal · 02-01-2004, 09:12 AM

Carathir strode into the Hallowdale Swan and immediatly studuied his surroundings. If this inn was anything like the inn's back home he would have to find a good defensive position and a quick exit.

The atmosphere inside the Swan was in accord with the look of it on the outside. The tavern portion of the building was a single open room, with a long bar defensively positioned in the corner of the rear wall, directly across from the door. A staircase rose up from the side of the bar the the structure's second level, a staircase more often used by painted, over-perfumed women and their latest companions than by guests of the inn. Indeeed, travelers who stopped outside Minas Tirith usually came into the city only for breif periods of excitement and entertainment, returning to the safety of their camps if they could manage it before the inevitable drunken sleep left them vulnerable.

Carathir scanned the room in search of the this "Maen" he was to seek out. The aroma of alcohol, from strong ale and cheap wine to rarer and more powerful beverages, premeated every corner. A haze of smoke from exotic pipe-weeds, like the mist outside, blurred the reality of images into softer, dreamlike sensations. Finally, he caught sight of a girl who seemed to be very popular with the attention she was drawing. There was something about her that he was attracted to, some air about her... Dumb wench. She's just a tool for your ambitions. He remembered he had to appear friendly and good-natured if was going to pull this off. He put a dumb smile on his face, straightened up and strode up to her. "Good day maddam!" he said, hating every word of it. "I am Carathir, at your service!" he said as he bowed low. You'll never see me do that again. Bow to a Gondorian. Hah! He pulled the letter out of his breast pocket and as he handed it over to her he almost stopped as he noticed a man near her. He immediatly recognized him as a ranger. Blood enemy of his family. The ranger sat quietly in his chair, unconcerned with everything else going on around him and interested only, it seemed, in watching and measuring Carathir. This was going to make things more complicated....

02-01-2004, 09:12 AM	#11
Thengal Haunting Spirit Join Date: Jan 2004 Posts: 63	Carathir strode into the Hallowdale Swan and immediatly studuied his surroundings. If this inn was anything like the inn's back home he would have to find a good defensive position and a quick exit. The atmosphere inside the Swan was in accord with the look of it on the outside. The tavern portion of the building was a single open room, with a long bar defensively positioned in the corner of the rear wall, directly across from the door. A staircase rose up from the side of the bar the the structure's second level, a staircase more often used by painted, over-perfumed women and their latest companions than by guests of the inn. Indeeed, travelers who stopped outside Minas Tirith usually came into the city only for breif periods of excitement and entertainment, returning to the safety of their camps if they could manage it before the inevitable drunken sleep left them vulnerable. Carathir scanned the room in search of the this "Maen" he was to seek out. The aroma of alcohol, from strong ale and cheap wine to rarer and more powerful beverages, premeated every corner. A haze of smoke from exotic pipe-weeds, like the mist outside, blurred the reality of images into softer, dreamlike sensations. Finally, he caught sight of a girl who seemed to be very popular with the attention she was drawing. There was something about her that he was attracted to, some air about her... Dumb wench. She's just a tool for your ambitions. He remembered he had to appear friendly and good-natured if was going to pull this off. He put a dumb smile on his face, straightened up and strode up to her. "Good day maddam!" he said, hating every word of it. "I am Carathir, at your service!" he said as he bowed low. You'll never see me do that again. Bow to a Gondorian. Hah! He pulled the letter out of his breast pocket and as he handed it over to her he almost stopped as he noticed a man near her. He immediatly recognized him as a ranger. Blood enemy of his family. The ranger sat quietly in his chair, unconcerned with everything else going on around him and interested only, it seemed, in watching and measuring Carathir. This was going to make things more complicated....