The Green Dragon Inn #11 - The Last Chapter

[Milord Aldagrim]

It had been along day for Aldagrim Proudfoot. First, his dog got out again and he had to chase it down all through the town with everyone laughing at him. Then he was late to the brewery and was yelled at by Milo Bolger. He always wanted to get Milo, and now would be a perfect time. He just didn't know what he would do. Then one of the caskets of ale burst all over him and there they were again, laughing at him.

He had gone home for supper, but since he still wasn't married, he had to cook for himself, and even he admitted he was a bad cook. So, he came to the inn every night. He walked up to the inn. The hobbit was rather short for hobbits, and somewhat chunky.

He saw the woman sitting by the door of the inn crying and walked up to her. "Excuse me miss, are you alright?"


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Please check your PM's ~*~ Pio, Shire Moderator

[samsmyhero]

Denegal stood, ready to go with Falowik in search of Uien in the stables. Just at that moment though, Ruby brushed past heading for another table with a tray of soup bowls. With a guilty start, Denegal remembered the generous bargain Cook had offered, and that he had been shirking his part of it. True, they probably didn't expect him to chop wood in this downpour. But there might be some other work which he could lend a hand in. He had better check or they might think him lazy or a welcher, sipping ale at his leisure and then waltzing off to the stables.

"I don't know where my head has been, Falowik. But I must attend to something before I can take you up on your generous offer. You see, I'm practically penniless. The cook here made me a kind offer of food and a bed in the stable loft in exchange for some work which needed doing around the inn. I was distracted by my fellow countrymen and now that it's raining, I'm unsure what I should be doing. If you'll wait but a moment, I'll ask and see if they've a need for my services right this instant."

"Aye, that only seems right." was Falowik's affable reply. "I'll bide here a bit while you go see."

"Much thanks." Denegal said, as he hurried off after Ruby.

She was just in the process of hanging up a long, green travelling cloak on a peg by the door. Denegal took the cloak from her and hung it up, fanning it out slightly so that it might dry faster. "Why, thank you, Denegal! I'dalmost forgotten you were still about." Ruby gave him her friendly smile.

"Yes, I've been remiss in helping you out. The rain started before I could get to that tree that needs cutting up. (Well, that wasn't quite the truth, but it would suffice) Can I lend you a hand with anything else? You see, I've met someone, Falowik by name, you may know him." Here Denegal gestured back to the table where Falowik sat. "He's offered to help me find some more . . . " Denegal searched for a word that wouldn't offend the little hobbit's earlier magnanimous gesture. "Some more sturdy footwear, and . . . " His voice trailed off. Ruby looked with compassion and some amusement on the young man.

"That's alright! Me and the other girls can handle this crowd just fine. Off with you now, and see if you can't find some nice boots or such!" Ruby winked at him and hurried back towards the kitchen.

Denegal grinned. Well, that was taken care of. He promised himself that when the rain let up he would attack the fallen tree with a fury.

He quickly returned to Falowik, conjuring up a mental image of flinging the abhorent red slippers into the nearest river and slipping his feet instead into a new pair of boots. He was sure the slippers would never be missed.

"I'm ready - they've no need of me at the moment!"Denegal smiled and rubbed his hands together with glee, whether in anticipation of meeting an elf, or the thought of getting rid of the slippers, Falowik could not guess.

[piosenniel]

Cook and Benat

Cook padded after Ginger, wondering what could have gotten into the girl. A giant? A dog the size of a pony? And asking after Mister Bilbo, himself? But she had only to walk into the common room, and there he was. She couldn’t help but stare. He was the largest man she’d ever seen. Taller than any of the Fair Folk, too. And big . . . his chest was nearly the size of one of the huge barrels used for brewing. And those legs of his . . . the breeches could not hide the fact that they were as thick as a small oak’s trunk. Her eyes made their way to his face, and she breathed a sigh of relief as he smiled her way and nodded in greeting.

‘What was his name?’ Cook whispered to Ginger. ‘Benat,’ came the reply from the girl who passed by her and drew near the man’s table.

Cook could hear a loud THUMP . . . THUMP . . . that came in a steady and quickening rhythm. Ginger held out a hand and made some beckoning noises. And there, indeed, was the largest dog that Cook had ever seen. The creature came walking up to Ginger, his tail wagging so hard, it fair shook the tables it brushed against as it passed by them. ‘This is Cullen,’ laughed Ginger as the dog gave her a welcoming slurp on her cheek.

‘Oh my!’ said Cook, her right hand held against her wildly beating heart. She took a deep breath to recover herself, then stepped up near to Benat. She kept a wary eye on the dog; she was never one to take a shine to creatures of the canine persuaion, especially since they always seemed bent on bedeviling her beloved cats.

‘Master Benat,’ she said, giving the man a small bow. ‘I’m Vinca Bunce, the long-time cook here at the Inn. Ginger, here, tells me you’re asking after Mister Bilbo. Can I answer any questions for you?’

[Hookbill the Goomba]

Hobbling into the inn, Dwaline the Dwarf leant heavily on his staff. He had spent a long time at his home some way up the road from the inn, sending letters off to his friends in distant parts, that he had decided to stay in the shire for his "Retirement". Which he saw as long overdue. His long, green cloak had been soaked in the rain and he hung it up on a peg.

He had invited some young Dwarves to help in the cleaning up of his small cottage like house, they had done a remarkable job and Dwaline had paid them, much to their delight, in pearls as well as gold. Dwaline had just watched them ride away in a now unlade cart, all chatting about what they were going to do with what Dwaline had given them.

Shuffling to the bar, Dwaline looked the bar maid in the eye with a wide and satisfied grin on his face. He placed a small bag of gold coins on the bar and said in a content and moderately quiet voice,

"A pint of your finest ale, if you would be so kind." The bar maid smiled back at him and soon placed the mug before him. He drank deep and studied his surroundings. Many Hobbits were drinking and singing and being generally merry. Although he noticed a little commotion in the common room, peeking with a curious eye, he thought better of intervening. Besides, his axe may have been Sharpe, but his arm was not as strong as it had once been.

[Encaitare]

What an interesting lot of people! Caity thought as she entered the Common Room.

On her way in from her gardening, she had passed a party of several Men, and had cast an amused glance at one of them because of his flamboyant footwear. She had then gone up to her room and washed her grimy fingernails and toenails to the best of her ability. When she was satisfied, she had gone down to the Common Room once more with her whistle in her hand and an ocarina carefully stashed in her pocket, and it seemed that the room had become packed to the brim with unusual characters.

She warily eyed a huge man and his equally huge dog. Its master did not seem dangerous, but the hound was disconcerting in its great size, so she did her best to avoid it. Finding herself a table and sitting down, she idly played a few notes on her whistle as she people-watched. She then began to play a few simple songs, including one tune that she had made up herself. When she looked up again, it seemed that there was some kind of commotion going on across the room. It looked as though Mr. Snaveling and Mr. Headstrong were arguing; then Mithalwen spoke and calmed the eldery hobbit down. The Elf bent over something, or someone; Snaveling exited at a word from her.

Curious, Caity rose and went to see what was happening. She was alarmed to see a young hobbit girl -- Marigold, she believed her name was -- lying on a couch, all scraped up.

"Excuse me, Mithalwen," she said, "I don't mean to be nosy, but what's happened to her? Is she alright?"

Falco grumbled a little but stopped at a glance from the Elf. "She took a spill is all," she responded. "She will be fine in a little while." Mithalwen turned to the lass. "Look, Marigold, you've a visitor already." The girl looked up tiredly.

"Hello," Caity greeted her. "My name's Caity Brandybuck. I hear you're not feeling so well?"

Marigold shook her head a little, but then stopped, wincing as it hurt her.

Caity had an idea; she knelt down beside the couch and drew the ocarina from her pocket. "Have you ever seen one of these before?"

"No," Marigold said with interest. "What is it?"

"It's called an ocarina. It's a musical instrument -- I'll play something for you if you like. What's your favorite song?"

[Nurumaiel]

"I... don't know," said Marigold, after a little pause for reflection. "I like every song my papa used to sing to me. But you could play me Mairi's Wedding. They played that song at the hand-fasting yesterday, and I liked it very much. My papa used to sing it to me, you know."

"Did your father know many songs?" Falco inquired, his tone less gruff than before. Marigold, of course, had some small ability to make him cheerier, and Caity also possessed that talent. He had been much delighted with her playing of the tin whistle on the previous evening, and couldn't help but feel a bit better when she was about.

"Oh, yes, he knew every so many songs," said Marigold earnestly. "He knew more songs than any other hobbit in Bywater, I'm sure of it. He had a wonderful voice, but not just in one way. He could make you cry or laugh or scowl when he sang, depending on what he was singing. He could make a song have feeling instead of just words."

"Ah, I know how that is," said Falco, with a little smile. "I had a friend who could sing much like that. But, here now, we should let Miss Caity play her song." The both of them fell silent and Caity, with a little bit of a blush, began to play. Like Marigold, Falco had never hear of this 'orcina' before, and at the name he had wondered if it had anything to do with those 'orcs' some of the travellers in the Shire would mention. He was not prepared for the sweet, melodious sound that came forth, and by that surprise his pleasure of her playing was greatly increased.

When she finished, Marigold clapped her hands together with all enthusiasm, and smiled brightly. "That was very lovely, Miss Brandybuck," she said. "I saw you playing with Mr. Headstrong yesterday, with your tin whistle, you know. You're very good at music."

As Caity blushed and thanked the little girl, Snaveling re-entered the Common Room, an assortment of dresses slung over his arm. Falco was in front of him in an instant, taking the clothes and inspecting them carefully to make sure they had not been soiled (weren't Big Folk fellows always dirty?). But, his mood somewhat improved by Caity's music, he gave a nod and a few words of thanks, and then went to Marigold.

She squealed with delight when she saw the dresses, and piled them all on her lap, going through them again and again, and marvelling over their pretty patterns and fabrics. Falco watched her with a contented smile.

"Have you never had such fine dresses before?" he asked.

"Oh, I've had such lovely dresses," said Marigold. "My papa used to buy the prettiest fabrics, and my mamma would sew them together wonderfully. But Mrs. Hilldweller dressed me in plain, dark colours, like her own children, so it's been awhile since I've had such lovely clothes." She turned her shining eyes up to Falco's face. "Oh, thank you, Mr. Heastrong!" she cried.

Falco coughed and the colour mounted slightly on his cheeks, but he merely said indifferently. "My pleasure, Marigold."

[Sett]

Galither spent many the hour slumped on his horse as he trot around the shire in agony. He was holding onto the horse hard clutching it in his arms width as it slowly carried him up and down the hills. Aching from the bitter weather hitting him like sheaves of glass. Each raindrop falling from the unforgiving sky in a violent fashion as it whisks down fast. Constricting his lungs were becoming unbearable for Galither as he tried to escape his jaded state of mind among the muddy paths that dragged the horse down causing Galither to feel unwary and confused as to what had happened.

Moments later he saw the green dragon inn over the hillside and used his last grain of strength to pull the horse into galloping towards the inn but it too was fatigued and not available to such commands. The horse fell to its knees as it skids down the now muddy path leading towards the safe haven from the malevolent weather.

He made it to the courtyard when both him and horse fell to the ground.
Galither was now dreaming of his love Esmerelda. He could see her radiant beauty gushing in the flower filled meadows with the light of the heavens shining down on his soul. He felt her touch on his heart as she knelt by him under the ever-growing purity of the sun. She was so elegant as she lied next to him with a gentle smile of great happiness. He closed his eyes and sighed in joy.

He opened his eyes again but did not find any white horses or golden angels but the stable master at his side as Galither lied in the thick puddle drowning. He was too stressed out at this point to realise what was going on around him. He felt his body being dragged along the hard floor but it felt relaxing for some strange reason perhaps this was because he was out of the weather. He was now full unaware of anything going on around him until he woken up in the pre-booked room the men rented out a while ago. There was a women standing in the corner with hot soup for him but he was too blind of sight to make out any features. He fell back down in frustration that there was nothing he could do. He tried to feel his chest, which had a bandage over it, but he did not know how it got there so for now discarded it so that he could again be with his love Esmerelda.

[piosenniel]

~*~ GREEN DRAGON INN FACTS ~*~

It is the 4th Age, year 12. By the Shire Calendar it is year 1433 S.R. (Shire Reckoning).

King Elessar is on the throne of the Reunited Kingdom of Arnor and Gondor.

Mirkwood has been reclaimed by the Elves and is now called Eryn Lasgalen.

Paladdin Took, Pippin’s father, is Thain of the Shire. (Thain is an honorary title for the military leader of the Shire. The title has been held in the Took Family since the position was first established in 3rd Age 1979 with Bucca of the Marish as First Thain.) Paladdin Took dies in year 13, and will be succeeded by his son, Peregrin, ‘Pippin’, Took.

Samwise Gamgee is Mayor of the Shire, having succeeded Will Whitfoot in 1427 S.R.

The Innkeeper, in the Green Dragon Inn of this forum, is: Aman – a young woman from Rohan.

Before her, the Innkeeper was Piosenniel, and before her it was Dwarin, the Dwarf.

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Other ongoing characters in the Inn:

Ruby Brown, Hobbit – not married – server and maid

Buttercup Brownlock, Hobbit – not married – kitchen assistant and maid

Vinca Bunce, widowed, Inn Cook (character played by Piosenniel)

Derufin, General handyman/jack-of-all-trades round the Inn (played by Envinyatar)

Zimzi (Zimziran), wife to Derufin; a skilled potter from Lindon(played by Pio)

Meriadoc - Stablemaster

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Ongoing characters from outside the Inn:

Halfred Whitfoot – local Shiriff from Bywater and Postmaster for this area of the Shire; his pony’s name is Dumpling.

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Please Note:

No 'SAVES' are allowed in the Inn (except for modifications needed to be made by the Moderators or Innkeeper).

With the exception of the Innkeeper and the Moderators, no OOC (Out Of Character) comments are allowed in the Inn.

Only the Innkeeper, Amanaduial, or the Moderators move the timeline for the Inn forward.

Visitors to the Inn will need to read the posts that come before theirs to get an idea of what time it is in the Shire, what the weather is like, and what is happening.

No violence is allowed in the Inn or on Inn grounds.

Please be familiar with the rules for the Inn and Games in The Red Book of Westmarch, the first topic in the Shire.

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About Elves in Shire RPG's:

Please use this description from Tolkien when crafting an Elf:

Return of the King – Appendix F: Tolkien’s description for the Quendi (The Speakers) – the name given to the Elves by themselves after they first awoke in Middle-earth.

“They were a race high and beautiful, the older Children of the world, and among them the Eldar were as Kings, who now are gone: the People of the Great Journey, the People of the Stars. They were tall, fair of skin and grey-eyed, though their locks were dark, save in the golden house of Finrod; and their voices had more melodies than any mortal voice that is now heard . . .”

Please use this as a guideline for describing your Elven character’s appearance.

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EVERYONE

Please be familiar with The Red Book of Westmarch which gives the rules for posting in the Shire RPG's and in The Green Dragon Inn.

Thanks!

Piosenniel, Shire Moderator

[Primrose Bolger]

Ginger examines the 'gift' from Cullen

Everyone had stopped what they were doing at the child’s squeal. Several of the servers’ eyes went wide at the sight of the rather large dog carrying what appeared to be a disheveled Hobbit boy. Ginger went right up to the dog, who sat as she approached him. Cullen had dropped the little Hobbit at her feet, and sat looking happily at her, his tail swishing back and forth on the kitchen floor.

‘Well, now what’s this?’ Ginger said, crouching down to see better the rag tag bundle the dog had dropped near her. Cullen leaned down and nudged the child with his wet black nose toward Ginger. She stood the child up and turned him round about so that he faced her. He was pale beneath his layer of grime, possibly with fright and was determinedly holding onto his bag.

Buttercup bent down and brushed the tangled curls back from the child’s face. ‘What’s your name, laddie?’ she asked with an encouraging smile

[Noinkling]

Benat listened with great curiosity as Anyopâ spoke. Precious metals . . . and jewels . . . I wonder if the men of Lond Daer trade with the Dwarves . . . and if they do, where do they go . . . to the Misty Mountains . . . he wondered, beetling his brow. Or were there still Dwarves who dwelt in those mountains far to the west . . . the Blue Mountains . . . yes, that was what they were named.

Cullen stirred at the Beorning’s feet, and Benat put down a hand to scratch his ears and quiet him. Reaching for his mug, he found it empty. Zimzi smiled across the table at him and filled his mug from the pitcher near her. She fell back then to talking with Anyopâ.

The Blue Mountains were not a far distance from the Shire, or so he had heard from the various travelers he had met on his way to Bywater. Often as he could, he would ask about what lay beyond wherever he had camped or stayed for the night. And some were more than willing, for a hot meal and drink, to tell him of places far off they had seen. Benat narrowed his eyes over his mug as he drank and wondered about this new tablemate.

Was he on a buying trip now? he wondered. And if so, would he mind a companion to travel with him . . .

Benat’s eye caught sight of one of the drawings that Derufin was looking at. A pretty little thing . . . a pin . . . gold, in the shape of a bee . . . and set with some many faceted gems for the eyes . . . He has some skill in his hands, this Anyopâ . . .

‘Tell me,’ he spoke aloud, his great voice rumbling into the conversation. The others look up at him expectantly. ‘Do you have any of your finished work with you, Master Anyopâ? And might we see it?’

Others about the table nodded their heads at his request . . .