The Seventh Star Inn - The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum

Nurumaiel · 06-07-2004, 03:23 PM

Ceolwyn seemed a bit confused at the volley of questions but nevertheless good-natured as she smiled, and as the two questioners introduced themselves the Gondorian man stood and bowed. "I am pleased to make your acquaintance," he said. "My name is Nardon and this is Ceolwyn, my wife." She continued to smile at them and said nothing, but gave them a nod in greeting. Nardon paused and then gestured for the two newcomers to sit. They smiled and accepted his offer politely.

"I will not beseech you repeat your former questions," he said. "I recall them perfectly and I will merely answer them now. I come from this fair land of Gondor, and not far from where this inn stands now. I was born here and raised here but have not lived here all my life. My wife is of Rohan though she has lived in Gondor these past two years."

"And are you weary?" asked Calentathar

Nardon shook his head but glanced at his wife, who made no move to either say 'yes' or 'no' but merely smiled in an expectant way at her husband, as if she wanted him to speak for her. He sighed as he returned his gaze to Calentathar. He had hoped his wife would answer the question for she was skilled at phrasing delicate manners in a way that was not improper. Despite the many cries of praise of his way with words he had heard in his life, he felt clumsy with words, the sly little things. Often he knew in mind and heart what to say but the words would slip away from him so he could not say it.

"She is a little weary," he said, feeling more than a little odd that he must speak for her, but then he had grown accustomed to it, "though we have not travelled very far. However it is to be expected..... in her condition."

mark12_30 · 06-07-2004, 03:49 PM

Calentathar's eyes grew wide. "Allow me to congratulate you, lady, and wish you continued good health." He exchanged uneasy glances with Gaerbrethil, and carefully studied Ceolwyn. "The wait-staff here is very perceptive, my lady, and will meet your needs. But if you would prefer something mild, such as salted oat-cake, I would be happy to find you some."

Gaerbrethil nodded in agreement, and waited breathlessly for Ceolwyn's answer.

At another table, Hîriest chuckled quietly for quite some time. "Well told, friend."

Oak frowned. "What is an avocado?"

Hîriest let a sinister light into his eyes, and raised one eyebrow just a little. "It has knobbly dark skin," he said. "Inside it is pale oily green... with a great slimy stone inside."

Oak shuddered, and gazed at the elf with a new respect.

Nurumaiel · 06-07-2004, 04:11 PM

Ceolwyn glanced at her husband but he smiled teasingly, shaking his head. He would let her answer for herself this time. The light in her eyes faded; she gazed imploringly at him and he almost gave in, but steeled himself and again shook his head. She looked to Calentathar and blushed slightly when she realized her reluctance to speak might have been regarded as impolite. "I thank you," she said, her voice quiet, "but I am not hungry at the moment." She stopped and seemed relieved that she need not speak more, but became decidedly uneasy when she realize courtesy prompted her to continue. "And I thank you for your congratulations," she said. "I... I am glad you have guessed what my condition is, for it is a difficult subject to speak of... being... being with child, I mean." The color in her cheeks mounted. "One doesn't like to speak of it merely because it might not be considered proper, though the joy is great."

Nardon smiled at her before addressing their 'guests.' "Consider yourselves flattered, my friends," he said. "It is not often my wife will speak in such length to those she just barely knows. Indeed, it is not often she will speak, not even to me, her husband." He could not say why. She had always been so quiet and there had never been too much need for her to talk. He had always understood the little gestures of her hands, the way she smiled, the expression in her eyes. She spoke through those things and rarely through her words. When she did speak to him she would say beautiful things, and he had little doubt that that was way she hardly ever did speak. Her thoughts were beautiful and to speak interrupted them. He knew what she dreamed of every day. The child. She had wept for days with joy when she had learned she was to bear a child, though she had spoken hardly at all. What tender smiles had lingered on her face as she had sewn the little clothes the child would wear, and what fondness was in her voice when he heard her murmuring the names she liked best for the child. 'The joy was great.' She had spoken her heart in those simple words.

"Ah, friends," he said, pulling himself from his reverie, "I lose myself to you in my thoughts. You have graciously offered my wife something to eat and she has denied. Perhaps I might offer to buy you a meal, or at least a drink. I would not lack in the generosity that you possess. It is my delight to give something to you. What would you have?"

Rimbaud · 07-13-2004, 04:44 AM

And the season turned into another one, and he healed slowly. The Inn took much of his time as he was prevented from thought of adventure by mundane details. Yet still he conversed with his allies, still they kept watch.

He strengthened his eyes and ears in the City gradually, and certain people who may have forgotten his touch became aware again that games were afoot.

The Innkeeper was restless, yet his friends bade him steady. Estelyn allowed him some brief practise with the sword, yet they were of too high a skill to spar for long, and he abhorred the use of the thing in any case. He busied himself cleaning out the stables and pestering Olaf.

Still, when the summer came, a glint in the Innkeepers eye told his closest that business would soon have to be attended.

**************

Stories unfolded and flowered in the Inn, and Rimbaud was pleased that his convalescence allowed him some time to listen to the tales. But the call had gone out, and he had only to wait for the allies to come, before action would take place.

mark12_30 · 07-13-2004, 08:05 PM

In the shadows by the fireplace, a nose twitched and wiskers quivered. Many crumbs had fallen, and the mouse was sleek, though restless at times. Shadows flickered on the walls, and memories flickered in the old room even as the grey-clad servants went noiselessly about their business.

The common room would empty soon, and the mouse planned his evening's trek; the old sea-captain had dropped plenty of crumbs and spilled some beer.

mark12_30 · 09-22-2004, 10:08 AM

The door opened, and a very small figure entered. He looked around at the dark room, quiet and rather dusty, and noted the movements of the nearly-invisible wait-staff.

He climbed into a chair, and one of the waiters approached him, sparing a puzzled glance that a halfling would have strayed into the land of Gondor.

"Wine, please," said the hobbit.

The wine appeared quietly, and the hobbit took the glass and raised it.

"Dear Mister Frodo, and old Mister Bilbo-- both mighty in deed, skilful with pen and song. Happy birthday."

He slowly sipped the wine.

Bêthberry · 11-10-2004, 01:01 PM

OOC

Hail Gondorians! Please check out Fordim Hedgethistle's new game, Shadow of the West.

It is a game of intrigue set in the Second Age and exploring the creation of the Nazgul. Now, how did Rohan come to be the forum where the dark side is explored?

I've got dibs on the Queen.

Bethberry

06-07-2004, 03:49 PM	#2
mark12_30 Stormdancer of Doom Join Date: Jan 2002 Location: Elvish singing is not a thing to miss, in June under the stars Posts: 4,349	Calentathar's eyes grew wide. "Allow me to congratulate you, lady, and wish you continued good health." He exchanged uneasy glances with Gaerbrethil, and carefully studied Ceolwyn. "The wait-staff here is very perceptive, my lady, and will meet your needs. But if you would prefer something mild, such as salted oat-cake, I would be happy to find you some." Gaerbrethil nodded in agreement, and waited breathlessly for Ceolwyn's answer. At another table, Hîriest chuckled quietly for quite some time. "Well told, friend." Oak frowned. "What is an avocado?" Hîriest let a sinister light into his eyes, and raised one eyebrow just a little. "It has knobbly dark skin," he said. "Inside it is pale oily green... with a great slimy stone inside." Oak shuddered, and gazed at the elf with a new respect. Last edited by mark12_30; 06-07-2004 at 04:12 PM.

07-13-2004, 04:44 AM	#4
Rimbaud The Perilous Poet Join Date: Apr 2002 Location: Heart of the matter Posts: 1,062	Turnings And the season turned into another one, and he healed slowly. The Inn took much of his time as he was prevented from thought of adventure by mundane details. Yet still he conversed with his allies, still they kept watch. He strengthened his eyes and ears in the City gradually, and certain people who may have forgotten his touch became aware again that games were afoot. The Innkeeper was restless, yet his friends bade him steady. Estelyn allowed him some brief practise with the sword, yet they were of too high a skill to spar for long, and he abhorred the use of the thing in any case. He busied himself cleaning out the stables and pestering Olaf. Still, when the summer came, a glint in the Innkeepers eye told his closest that business would soon have to be attended. ************** Stories unfolded and flowered in the Inn, and Rimbaud was pleased that his convalescence allowed him some time to listen to the tales. But the call had gone out, and he had only to wait for the allies to come, before action would take place. __________________ And all the rest is literature

07-13-2004, 08:05 PM	#5
mark12_30 Stormdancer of Doom Join Date: Jan 2002 Location: Elvish singing is not a thing to miss, in June under the stars Posts: 4,349	In the shadows by the fireplace, a nose twitched and wiskers quivered. Many crumbs had fallen, and the mouse was sleek, though restless at times. Shadows flickered on the walls, and memories flickered in the old room even as the grey-clad servants went noiselessly about their business. The common room would empty soon, and the mouse planned his evening's trek; the old sea-captain had dropped plenty of crumbs and spilled some beer. __________________ ...down to the water to see the elves dance and sing upon the midsummer's eve.

11-10-2004, 01:01 PM	#7
Bêthberry Cryptic Aura Join Date: May 2002 Posts: 6,003	A New Game In Rohan OOC Hail Gondorians! Please check out Fordim Hedgethistle's new game, Shadow of the West. It is a game of intrigue set in the Second Age and exploring the creation of the Nazgul. Now, how did Rohan come to be the forum where the dark side is explored? I've got dibs on the Queen. Bethberry __________________ I’ll sing his roots off. I’ll sing a wind up and blow leaf and branch away.

06-07-2004, 03:23 PM	#1
Nurumaiel Vice of Twilight Join Date: Nov 2002 Location: on a mountain Posts: 1,121	Ceolwyn seemed a bit confused at the volley of questions but nevertheless good-natured as she smiled, and as the two questioners introduced themselves the Gondorian man stood and bowed. "I am pleased to make your acquaintance," he said. "My name is Nardon and this is Ceolwyn, my wife." She continued to smile at them and said nothing, but gave them a nod in greeting. Nardon paused and then gestured for the two newcomers to sit. They smiled and accepted his offer politely. "I will not beseech you repeat your former questions," he said. "I recall them perfectly and I will merely answer them now. I come from this fair land of Gondor, and not far from where this inn stands now. I was born here and raised here but have not lived here all my life. My wife is of Rohan though she has lived in Gondor these past two years." "And are you weary?" asked Calentathar Nardon shook his head but glanced at his wife, who made no move to either say 'yes' or 'no' but merely smiled in an expectant way at her husband, as if she wanted him to speak for her. He sighed as he returned his gaze to Calentathar. He had hoped his wife would answer the question for she was skilled at phrasing delicate manners in a way that was not improper. Despite the many cries of praise of his way with words he had heard in his life, he felt clumsy with words, the sly little things. Often he knew in mind and heart what to say but the words would slip away from him so he could not say it. "She is a little weary," he said, feeling more than a little odd that he must speak for her, but then he had grown accustomed to it, "though we have not travelled very far. However it is to be expected..... in her condition."

06-07-2004, 04:11 PM	#3
Nurumaiel Vice of Twilight Join Date: Nov 2002 Location: on a mountain Posts: 1,121	Ceolwyn glanced at her husband but he smiled teasingly, shaking his head. He would let her answer for herself this time. The light in her eyes faded; she gazed imploringly at him and he almost gave in, but steeled himself and again shook his head. She looked to Calentathar and blushed slightly when she realized her reluctance to speak might have been regarded as impolite. "I thank you," she said, her voice quiet, "but I am not hungry at the moment." She stopped and seemed relieved that she need not speak more, but became decidedly uneasy when she realize courtesy prompted her to continue. "And I thank you for your congratulations," she said. "I... I am glad you have guessed what my condition is, for it is a difficult subject to speak of... being... being with child, I mean." The color in her cheeks mounted. "One doesn't like to speak of it merely because it might not be considered proper, though the joy is great." Nardon smiled at her before addressing their 'guests.' "Consider yourselves flattered, my friends," he said. "It is not often my wife will speak in such length to those she just barely knows. Indeed, it is not often she will speak, not even to me, her husband." He could not say why. She had always been so quiet and there had never been too much need for her to talk. He had always understood the little gestures of her hands, the way she smiled, the expression in her eyes. She spoke through those things and rarely through her words. When she did speak to him she would say beautiful things, and he had little doubt that that was way she hardly ever did speak. Her thoughts were beautiful and to speak interrupted them. He knew what she dreamed of every day. The child. She had wept for days with joy when she had learned she was to bear a child, though she had spoken hardly at all. What tender smiles had lingered on her face as she had sewn the little clothes the child would wear, and what fondness was in her voice when he heard her murmuring the names she liked best for the child. 'The joy was great.' She had spoken her heart in those simple words. "Ah, friends," he said, pulling himself from his reverie, "I lose myself to you in my thoughts. You have graciously offered my wife something to eat and she has denied. Perhaps I might offer to buy you a meal, or at least a drink. I would not lack in the generosity that you possess. It is my delight to give something to you. What would you have?"

09-22-2004, 10:08 AM	#6
mark12_30 Stormdancer of Doom Join Date: Jan 2002 Location: Elvish singing is not a thing to miss, in June under the stars Posts: 4,349	The door opened, and a very small figure entered. He looked around at the dark room, quiet and rather dusty, and noted the movements of the nearly-invisible wait-staff. He climbed into a chair, and one of the waiters approached him, sparing a puzzled glance that a halfling would have strayed into the land of Gondor. "Wine, please," said the hobbit. The wine appeared quietly, and the hobbit took the glass and raised it. "Dear Mister Frodo, and old Mister Bilbo-- both mighty in deed, skilful with pen and song. Happy birthday." He slowly sipped the wine.