The Green Dragon Inn #11 - The Last Chapter

[piosenniel]

TIME IN THE SHIRE

It is now moving toward mid-afternoon.

The sky is beginning to clear, with patches of blue showing through. The sun is burning through the clouds and drying up the wet ground.

[Nurumaiel]

Falco sat for some time in silence, watching the young Camille eat, and reflecting on her words. She spoke in a polite, respectful manner, and he suspected that, however ragged she might be now, she had not always been so poor. Her speech was refined, unlike the speech of most poor hobbits. He wondered how willing she would be to tell him of herself and her family. How odd it was! Marigold seemed to be in a fairly well-to-do family in her earlier days, though now she was orphaned and homeless.

"Tell me, Miss Camille," he said, speaking at length. "You say you can't take the dress because it's much to fine for you, and it wouldn't fit in with your surroundings."

"Yes, Mister Falco, and my mother..."

"Yes, yes, well... harumph!" He paused a moment for thought. Camille had mentioned that her mother would not let her take it, and he was rather unsure of how to make his approach. "Well, my dear, I wonder if your mother would have any real objections... that is to say, I am a fairly well-to-do hobbit, and can afford to spend money to help others, and... would your mother object much if I took you into town and bought you some nice, fresh, but simpler dresses?"

Camille hesitated, and looked doubtful.

"I understand she might not want to accept a gift," said Falco hastily. "Many are opposed to taking charity, but... I could speak to Cook and arrange the dresses as a little bit of a reward for whatever small tasks you might do about her." He paused once again, wondering if he should go a little bit farther. He did not want to overwhelm the girl and make her think she couldn't possibly accept his offer, but neither did he care to leave anything out. So he went on.

"I should also like to send a basket of food to your mother, if you think she would not take it amiss. Understand me, I do not look upon you as lower than I and in need of my condescending kindness, but I would like to present some small gift..." He fumbled off into silence.

[piosenniel]

Cook and Derufin

‘Sour milk, is it?’ Cook opened the pantry and took out a crockery pitcher she’d set out earlier in the day, covered with a tea towel. ‘Miz Zimzi making some sour milk raisin cake for you,’ she asked, casting a glance up at Derufin. ‘I just got in some plump raisins from the Bree merchant. I can give you a cup of those, too, if you need them.’

Derufin grinned and shook his head. ‘She’s doing curtains, Cook. Bleaching them.’ He bent down and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek along with his most charming look. ‘However, if you wanted to try your hand at that cake you mentioned, I would be more than happy to see it didn’t dry out or mold from neglect.’ Cook raised her brows at him, though truth be told, her cheeks were quite rosy from the kiss and the banter. She poured him a small pitcher of soured milk and shooed him from the pantry. Before Derufin reached the kitchen door, Cook called him back.

‘I doubt Miz Zimzi will be needing you to help with the curtains,’ she said, motioning him to come sit with her for a moment at the kitchen table. ‘I’ve a job for you. Keep you out of her hair for a good bit.’ Now it was Derufin’s turn to look questioningly at Cook. ‘Oh, it’s just a bit of wood chopping and such,’ she said. ‘And I’ve found a couple of helpers for you. Nice strong lads, if I say so myself.’ Cook went on to tell him a bit about Benat and Denegal and how they had volunteered to help clear the downed trees, and get them into the woodpile. ‘You take the milk over to Miz Zimzi and I’ll send the two fellows over.’ She glanced out the kitchen window. ‘Sun’s out. Good time to get started, I’d say.’

Cook stood up, as did Derufin. She walked him to the kitchen door and saw him off. ‘You and the Missus stop by after dinner,’ she called out after him. Just might there’ll be a piece of raisin cake for you to sink your fork into.’

[peral]

Seeing Tulip fully and totally engrossed in her food, Sharya excused herself.

"Seeing as it's clearing up now, if you would be so kind as to let me go and see if I can get some other things done?"

Tulip nodded, though looked slightly morose at being left alone at the table. Sharya touched her hand gently.

"Don't worry, I'll be back for dinner," she laughed.

But once she got to her room, her supposedly happy demeanour quickly faded. She needed money, that was for sure. Checking in her purse, she saw but a few coins left. Hardly enough for a whole week's stay in the inn. Not to mention all the other supplies she was going to have to need to buy. Sighing quietly to herself, she took a look in the mirror and ran her fingers through her hair. Perhaps she could offer the innkeeper her help. She was willing to do anything, just as long as she could get a little money for it. Sighing to herself, she headed back down the stairs in search of the innkeeper.

[Tevildo]

Camille watched in hungry anticipation as platters overflowing with biscuits and eggs were brought out from the kitchen and set down on the table. She immediately began to eat but was careful to slip two or three biscuits from the pile when she though Falco wasn't looking and stash them away in her now empty bag. Her brother loved biscuits, and she wasn't about to disappoint him.

Although most of Camille's attention was centered on the biscuits, she made sure to get a close look at Falco and listen to what he was saying. She already liked him a great deal. There was something so quaint and earnest about his manner that Camille couldn't help but smile. She wondered if the gentleman was married but somehow didn't think so. In a strange way, he reminded her of the old tales she'd heard of Bilbo Baggins. Her mother liked those stories very much and had told her and Rory about Bilbo many times. A little bird flitted in a corner of Camille's mind as she wondered if her mother would like to meet Falco. Ma got out so very little since it was difficult with her brother. Camille thought it might do her a great deal of good.

Falco was talking about the dress and trying to figure out a way that Camille could be persuaded to take it. or another one. She answered his questions as politely as she could. Then he asked her about sending the basket of food. Camille suddenly had an idea in her head, but she didn't know if she dared ask it. Still, it was better to open her mouth and try." Master Falco, you are too kind. Unfortunately, mother is stubborn and smart. Once she hears your offer, she'll guess you are giving me something for nothing. It wouldn't make any sense that you were paying me for doing work for someone else. But I do have an idea."

Camille took a deep breath and then plunged ahead. "Perhaps, you could bundle up your laundry for Mum. She could come to the Inn every morning to get it, and return it the next morning all nicely folded and clean. I would offer to do this myself but I'll be busy working here. Anyways, Mum is a much better laundress. You could pay her with a basket of food and one clean frock for me. No more than one, mind you, or Mum would be suspicious. Perhaps later, if things worked out, you might include a new breeches and shirt for my brother. " The image of her brother in his too-tight pants and raggedy shirt popped into Camille's mind. She stared down at her plate and nervously rearranged the eggs with her fork. Then she glanced over at Falco, who seemed to be deep in thought as if weighing the meaning behind her words.

"Oh, yes," Camille added, pressing her argument to its logical concludion, "there's one other thing. I know Mum would want to speak with you first about all this. Otherwise she'd never agree. If you wanted, you could ask her and Rory up to the Inn for dinner tonight and we could talk this all out"

Camille wondered if she'd pushed the kindly gentleman too far. She had no idea how he felt about poor hobbit lads or middle-aged widows. She hoped what she had said was alright, but she dared not stop now. "One other thing," she continued, "Mum will need a bit of help getting Rory up to the Inn. You see, he can't walk well. He's a thin slip of a hobbit, much smaller than I am. And he's just ten-years old. Perhaps if you could carry him or bring a small cart down by The Water where we are living now. I know he would love to get out."

[elf-girl-63]

Aranel stamped her feet at the door of the inn and slowly pushed it open. She shook her long dark hair out of her face and stepped inside. The rain had just about stopped as she reached her destination- The Green Dragon. The inn had been recommended by a mysterious traveller who was on their way home. She couldn't remember his name but he'd been very brooding and very reluctant to share any information during the night that they'd camped out together, but she was pleased with the recommendation. The inn looked to be very comforting.

It was decorated in a typically hobbit fashion, yet with enough space even for the tallest of travellers. Aranel smiled to herself and made her way over to the bar. A stout hobbit was stood there, eyeing up the woman although with no hint of surprise on her face. She was obviously used to new and unusual visitors- even those dressed in plain clothes but with... certain airs. Aranel was somewhat glad, she did not wish to be talked about.

Nodding her head, she smiled again and stuck out her hand 'Good afternoon, I am Aranel. I wondered if I could possibly have a room for a few days?'

The woman turned to a get a guestbook and Aranel suddenly felt a terrible huner pang. 'Excuse me. But I would I be able to get some food as well?'

[Nurumaiel]

Falco was slightly taken aback by young Camille's proposal, but charmed by her frank, intelligent manner of speaking. She had a way of thinking and talking like an older hobbit, but she still retained the simplicity and sweetness of a child. Oh, yes, he was indeed charmed. All remnants of his former ill mood were vanquished, and he smiled at her.

"A very admirable proposal," he said. "As it happens I am very fussy about the cleanliness of my clothes, and I was worried of how I was to keep them fresh and bright. The rain has dirtied one of my outfits already, and... why, I did not notice it before, but the rain of this day has slightly dirtied this coat as well!" He looked at it in genuine surprise, and wondered why he had not noticed it sooner. Perhaps his worry for Marigold and his suspicion of that Big Folk fellow kept him blind to it until now.

But the Big Folk fellow? Where had he gone? And, come to think of it, where was Marigold? Ah, yes, that young woman stranger had carried her up to her room. But... Falco was not nearly as suspicious of the young woman stranger as he was of the Big Folk fellow, but still he did not like to leave Marigold alone with one he did not know very well.

Camille was looking at him, as if expecting him to go on. He coughed and regained his previous train of thought.

"I have no cart, I fear... all I had was a pony, which kicked me off and ran away. But I wouldn't be opposed to carrying your brother here... as long as he wouldn't mind if I stopped and rested a bit every now and then. Regrettably I am not as young and strong as I used to be." He glanced towards the door, and thought about Marigold again.

"Now, my dear Miss Camille, when you've finished your lunch, perhaps you'd like to come meet Marigold. There have been no other hobbit lasses her age around the Inn, and though she seems happy enough in the company of elderly hobbits like me, I'm sure she would very much enjoy the company of one her own age."

[Annalaliath]

Annalalaith stepped into the inn; she had had a long journey behind her. Her mud spattered cloths were hanging limply about her for the rain and her cloak had not done much for keeping her dry. She shook off the cloak, as it stuck to her other layers of clothing as she waked to the bar. Her long dirty blond hair hung limply about her obvious Elvin features. But her keen steal blue eyes were bright as ever, and always attentive to the smallest action, or beauty that could be found.

Although this place was small, being made for Hobbits, she liked it. She noticed the other patrons sitting at their drinks and food and wondered what they were thinking. After ordering what ever the nightly meal was and some ale she sat in a corner by herself. Took out an old battered book, pages covered in drawings and sketches, which she started to flip through, taking a sip from her mug now and again, she pondered the events of the last time she had come.

[Noinkling]

Benat makes his way to Derufin's

Benat picked up his walking stick where it leaned against the window frame and walked to the pegs near the front door where his cloak hung. ‘Come, Cullen!’ he called to his canine companion. ‘Cook’s told a fellow named Derufin we’ll come help clear the downed trees from the edge of the Inn’s yard.’ Benat drew his cloak over his shoulders and shrugged it into place.

Opening the Inn door, he ducked down a bit and stepped onto the porch. Two strides brought him down the steps. Cullen bounded out behind Benat and circled him, wagging his tail. ‘This way, fellah,’ called the man, walking briskly toward the groundskeeper’s cottage.

[Mithalwen]

It had taken Mithalwen longer than she expected to get Marigold ready. It had been quite a task to persuade her she should have a bath since Marigold claimed she had had a good wash that morning, and only the addition of what Mithalwen told her were "special elf herbs as used by the queen herself (who everyone knew was the fairest lady in the world)" had convinced her. They would ensure she would wake with few aches from her fall.

Then while the hobbit maid bathed, Mithalwen had realised one of the dresses was missing. She did not want to be away from Marigold for time it took to find it and so attempted to conceal it's absence a while by telling her she should wear the red dress " for it is the most cheerful colour for a grey day". As Marigold's hair dried she managed to persuade it into ringlets rather than wild curls and scavenged a piece of ribbon to keep them off her face. All in all, the elf was proud of her handiwork as she helped Marigold back down stairs. Her clear voice could be heard before they turned the corner and came back into the view of those in the common room.

"Now Marigold, you can show Mr Headstrong, Miss Aman and Mr Snaveling .. " cursing herself for mentioning them in the same breath and hoping it wouldn't prompt Marigold to develop her earlier theory, " how pretty you look.... oh they seem to have gone.. well you can show Mr Headstrong anyway ..that is most important since he gave you the dress" she added wondering where the Dunadan and the innkeeper were.

Marigold walked selfconsciously towards her benefactor who now seemed to have the company of another hobbit girl. While Marigold was distracted she whispered to Falco "I seem to be missing one of Miss Marigold's dresses ....... I must have left it behind .... I am sure I had them all ... anyway the other things are safely in the press in her room".

Really the child did look sweet in the red frock and it set off the single pearl necklace nicely.... she wondered if she should offer to shorten it.. but then that was another issue she was avoiding... how had Marigold come into possession of her wedding gift?

[samsmyhero]

Falowik had traced the outline of both of Denegal's feet onto a rough piece of parchment procured from the inn, and was now busy cutting out the leather. They had certainly received some odd looks as they had passed through Bywater looking for the tanner. The old hobbit had grinned, seeing Denegal's red slippers, and seemed somewhat disappointed that his friends were intent on reshodding the young soldier. But he was happy enough at the coin jingling in his hand as the three left his shop.

Upon returning to the inn, Denegal had stood just long enough to let Falowik trace his feet, then went in search of an axe. Now that the rain had stopped, he was duty bound to get onto the dismembering of those trees. Falowik and Uien had settled themselves comfortably in one of the empty stalls of the stable. Though the day was still chilly, the warmth of the horse' bodies were enough to keep the place warm and snug. Denegal felt the sharp caress of the wind as he turned the corner of the inn. But he knew the work ahead would certainly keep him warm enough. Ths sun was making a brave attempt to ward off the clouds that still flitted across the sky, and its rays felt good on his face.

The Cook had said the trees were near the groundskeepers' cottage and had pointed the way to him earlier that morning. Making his way along the path, Denegal became aware of a loud panting and bold footsteps behind him. Turning, his eyes widened in alarm at the sight of a huge man and an equally huge dog trotting at his side. The giant also stared at Denegal, but his surprise was a source of amusement – the curly toed red slippers, of course!

"Good day to you . . . friend." Denegal offered, hopefully. "I'm in search of the groundskeeper's cottage. Do you know if this is the way?"

[Nurumaiel]

Why Falco leaned over to whisper in Mithalwen's ear he couldn't say. He was supposed to be suspicious of her, but he was murmuring low to her, as if confident of her. Perhaps Camille had put him in an excellent put, or perhaps he had been slightly warmed by Mithalwen's own whispering. But whatever the reason, he did indeed lean over to her, with a reassuring smile, and whispered a reply.

"Don't fret about Marigold's dress, Miss Mithalwen," he said. "It's safe and sound, and I believe it is in the kitchen." He paused for a moment, and made a move as if to straighten up, but lingered in his leaning position a little longer to say, in the same low tones: "I'm going to be gone briefly this evening to help a young boy get to the Inn... I wonder if you would mind watching out for Marigold while I'm away."

Ah, so he was suspicious of her, and he asked her to watch Marigold again... and he wouldn't be in the Inn. Last time Marigold had been left alone with this young woman, she (that is, Marigold) had fallen from a horse. What madness possessed him to ask again? Why did he suddenly feel as if he ought to trust this young woman? He was quite irritated with himself, and gave her no time to voice either assent or dissent, for he immediately turned to face Camille and Marigold, who had been gazing curiously and rather shyly at each other.

"Miss Camille, I should like you to meet Miss Marigold Baker. And, Marigold, my dear, this is Miss Camille." He had been determined to ignore the young woman in the introductions as his penance for trusting her to watch Marigold again, but he felt it would be rude, and so added, in a rather grudging tone: "And, Camille, this is Miss Mithalwen."

[Witch_Queen]

Jon looked at Dwaline. He knew why the dwarf would ask about his curiousity for the crow. "Along my journeys I've seen many white crows just wondered if she has anything to do with them." Jon looked up when he heard the sound of Aman's voice. Ah so they were right she is here. "She seems pretty content around people. Its just wrong that she's been hurt. Oh and as for my type... thats a very long story. I'm not like the type you compare me to. Now I must find Aman. Have you seen her?"

Jon looked around the inn searching for Aman. He hadn't seen Aman in years and thought now would be an excellant time to see her. Jon hadn't been in the shire for a long time. The last time he left he was running from the future he didn't wish to embrace. "Oh well I guess I'll see her sometime."

[Noinkling]

Benat speaks to Denegal

Cullen was fascinated by the red things on the man’s feet. He inched forward, his tail wagging, and began to sniff at them. They were animal hide, their scent quite intriguing, for they did not smell like other footwear he had encountered on his travels with his master. Had he the vocabulary he would have thought them ‘exotic’; but, instead, he merely took a long whiff of them, then looked up hopefully at their wearer, wondering if he would share them.

‘Excuse my dog . . . Cullen’s his name, by the way. He seems fascinated by your curious footwear. And to be honest,’ Benat blurted out without thinking, ‘I’ve never seen the like in my short travels.’ The trio walked on together. There was really nothing to be said about the shoes save that they were borrowed and that soon Denegal would have a proper pair of boots.

‘My name is Benat,’ the Beorning said, following up on Denegal’s offer of his own name. ‘And yes, I think I do know where the cottage is you speak of. Seems a certain one of the Small Folk has enlisted us both in the pursuit of firewood!’ Benat reached down to scratch Cullen between the ears. ‘I must confess I’ve not had the acquaintance of many of the Small Folk, but I find them quite engaging. Don’t you? And generous, in their own way.’

[Envinyatar]

Derufin and Zimzi watch as Benat and Denegal approach . . .

‘Quickly, Zimzi! Come out here!’

Derufin stood on the porch of the cottage, stringing up a thin rope line frome one of the nearby trees to one of the porch’s posts. Zimzi had stirred up her bleaching brew, adding in the soured milk that Cook had given her, and was now wringing out the sodden tangle of curtains in preparation for hanging them in the sun.

‘I’m on my way. Last one’s in the basket,’ she called. She picked up the pouch of cleverly carved wooden pins for hanging clothes on a line she’d gotten as a present from one of the Shire ladies and placed it in the basket. ‘Well, here I am,’ she said, plunking the basket at Derufin’s feet, and reaching in to hand him one of the damp curtains. ‘Here! Help me get these hung, won’t you.’ She handed him several of the clothes-pins and began shaking out a curtain of her own to hang. ‘Now what was so urgent that you called to me in the first place,’ she asked, showing him how to use the pins.

‘Look there,’ Derufin said, pointing toward where the back door to the Inn’s kitchen was. ‘Look at those two fellows. I’ll bet they’re the ones Cook said she’d send.’

Zimzi’s mouth formed a small ‘O’ of surprise. ‘My! That is a very big “helper”! And his dog . . . he’s as big as a Shire pony.’ She broke into a small chuckle. ‘And the other fellow . . . the one that’s our size. What on earth has he got on his feet?’ Zimzi laughed aloud. ‘Trust Cook to send us her more interesting strays!’

[samsmyhero]

Denegal smiled broadly as the three approached the groundskeeper's cottage. He felt well at ease with his new companions, both man and dog. Although Benat loomed far above him, and Denegal was no tiny hobbit himself, the big man's plain and forthright manner bespoke a fair and honest character. After his months of travel, Denegal had encountered more than enough of the type who smile prettily while stealing your purse. It seemed the Shire attracted more of the good kind than the bad.

‘I must confess I’ve not had the acquaintance of many of the Small Folk, but I find them quite engaging. Don’t you? And generous, in their own way.’ Denegal considered Benat's question before answering.

"I've not been in the Shire long myself, and must confess that I never layed eyes on a halfling, or hobbit as they seem to call themselves, before this very day." Denegal replied. "But from all I've observed today, they are indeed a most jolly, kindly, and friendly lot. Indeed, 'tis the good will of the Inn cook which sets me on the same path as yourself and Cullen here. I'm afraid the three coppers in my purse would not have stretched very far at all. But now I have the means to eat and stay warm, and dry, for a while yet."

They had now reached a cleared area wherein lay the small, neat cottage. A man was standing close by the door, watching their approach. His wife, presumably, had just appeared in the doorway, and was just making a comment to her husband, which made him laugh, along with her. It caused Denegal's sore heart to twinge to see such an obviously happy couple, but he was glad that some at least could be so, such as Falowik and Uien. What luck!

"Hail to thee, good sir! My name is Denegal and this is Benat, and Cullen. We're sent by Mistress Bunce to move some dead wood and split it for firewood. Can you show us it and perhaps point us in the direction of two sharp axes?"

[Tevildo]

First, Camille looked over at Marigold and smiled. "I'm so very pleased to meet you. I heard you took a bad tumble and I hope you feel better. I'll be working here at the Inn. I'm not sure what Cook will have me do. I'll just have to wait and see. But I hope we have some time together." Camille felt very uncomfortable being introduced when she was wearing her dirty and ragged clothes. She also hoped that Marigold didn't know about the dress. However, Marigold was polite and, even if she'd heard, she never menioned anything at all.

Once the two young lasses had exchanged a few friendly words, Camille looked at Mithalwen more closely. Her eyes opened wide in alarm and anticipation. She was so surprised that she could barely blurt out a few words of introduction. "You....you're an Elf! Very pleased to meet you." She looked over shyly at Mithalwen and continued, "I don't mean to pry, ma'am, but Mum once said Elves could do magic. You just wave a wand and make people well. If you don't mind, I'd like to know if that is true."

Inside Camille's head was the image of her younger brother as he struggled to get up to his feet and, with the aid of a crutch, barely made it down the lane more than two or three paces.

[Envinyatar]

Readying the equipment

Zimzi returned to hanging up the cottage curtains on the clothesline. She had made some small greeting to the two men who’d come to help with the downed trees, then left Derufin to get down to the business of clearing away the wood. ‘T’wil be thirsty work for them,’ she thought seeing how the sun had now come out fully. ‘I’ll just fetch them a couple of buckets of water from the well, and perhaps a few little sweet-cakes to tide them over until supper.’ She pinned the last of the curtains to the line and stowed her basket on the cottage porch. Taking one of her smaller handbaskets, she went to the Inn kitchen.

Derufin had taken the men to the Inn’s large tool shed to pick out the equipment they might need. Axes, saws, splitting mauls, tarps, ropes, and some large saw-horses. The trio piled these into a small handwagon and made off for the work site, along with Sweet William one of the Inn’s large workhorses.

‘I’m glad you’ve come to lend a hand, good sirs,’ Derufin said as they walked along. He looked them both over and chuckled. ‘But tell me, how did Cook manage to get you to volunteer?’

[Noinkling]

Benat smiled widely at Derufin’s question. ‘I can’t speak for Denegal, but Cook is arranging a meeting for me tomorrow . . . with someone who knows something of one the Hobbits who used to live around here. He visited us once; Mr. Baggins, did . . . or rather my grandfather. And I wished to pay him a return visit. Or at least find out what happened to him once he left my Grandda’s house.’

He whistled to Cullen who was ranging far afield, his nose following some trail. Cullen looked up, his great head swiveling about to catch sight of his master, his tail wagging furiously. Benat laughed at the dog’s delight and waved him on about his business. Cullen bent once more to his task and was soon lost among the trees that edged this side of the Inn property.

[Arry]

Aranel is waited upon

‘Ferdy!’ Ruby’s voice rang out across the Common Room, cutting easily through the buzz of conversation at the tables.

‘Oh, now you’re for it!’ laughed Gil as Ferdy’s head swung around, finding the source of the call. Gil nudged his friend, as the rest of the companions at the table shook their heads in a knowing manner. ‘She’s got your number now. You don’t go over and see what she wants and she’ll tell Ginger how rude you were to her.’

Ferdy raised his hand reluctantly to Ruby and waved, indicating he was coming. Those seated at the tables he passed quieted as he passed and eyed him, wondering why he had been called. He shrugged at their questioning looks, hands in his pockets, as he ambled toward the bar where Ruby stood.

‘Oh goodness!’ she said, looking at room. ‘Didn’t mean to put you on the spot.’ She lowered her voice to a whisper. ‘Been taking too many lessons from Cook, haven’t I? But Miz Aman’s gone missing again – that horrid Snaveling has poked his nose in her business again somehow. We’re a bit short-handed . . . and well, you looked available.’

Ruby introduced a newcomer to the Inn – Aranel. ‘I’ve got her signed in for a room,’ Ruby said, ‘but she’s a mind to have something to eat. Be a good lad, and get her seated while I get someone to ready the room. Then fetch what she’d like from the kitchen.’ Ruby winked at Ferdy, mouthing, ‘Ginger’s in there!’ Quick as she had winked, she was away, seeing to another customer.

‘Well, Miz . . . Aranel, is it. Sorry for all the shouting. But here’s a nice table, near the fire,’ Ferdy said, leading the way to a small table and pulling out the chair for the woman. ‘Now what would you have in mind for a meal?’

He waited patiently as she made up her mind.

[Huan]

A sketch of Annalaliath . . .

Anyopâ noted the Elf as she came through the door. Despite her wet and much travel stained clothing, still she held that certain air of grace the common to the First Born. She did not seem shy in her manner and he wondered why she had chosen a table tucked away in the corner.

He watched longer as she made herself comfortable in her seat; then, he smiled, nodding knowingly as she pulled a battered journal from her pack. He noted how her steely eyes paid great attention to all that was happening in the room. Another ‘watcher’, he thought to himself.

Pulling out his own chapbook, he opened it to a fresh page. His quill scratched over the page, setting the Elf’s fine features on the paper. The image he drew had a look of studied intensity as her features unfolded beneath his hand. One strand of lank, damp hair trailed across the inked Elf’s cheek. And poised lightly on her lower lip, as she considered what she had sketched, was the much nibbled tip of her own quill’s handle.

[samsmyhero]

Denegal answered Derufin as he walked along beside Sweet William. ”Well, I’m afraid to admit that I didn’t exactly “volunteer” to help out. It’s Mistress Bunce that’s doing me the favor. I’ve almost run out of money, and, truth be told, I’ve been living off watercress and sleeping under the stars these past few days. She and Ruby were kind enough to offer meals and a bed in the hayloft in exchange for some labor. Ruby even gave me the loan of these.” He stuck one foot forward, grinning.

“I’m not sure I’d call that a favor!” Derufin chuckled. “Where on earth are your own shoes?”

“That’s rather a long story.” Denegal sighed. “Suffice it to say, when I arrived at the Inn this morning, I was short one boot, and Ruby took pity on me. And it would seem my luck may be taking a turn for the better, for already I’ve made the acquaintance of Falowik and Uien, who have offered to make a new pair of boots for me and are even now working on them in the stable. I certainly owe a great debt to many here, and especially to the traveler on the rod who advised me to make my way to the Green Dragon.”

The three walked on a short ways in companionable silence, enjoying the afternoon sun, as Cullen gamboled in the undergrowth. When they reached the fallen trees, Derufin advised what needed to be done, and, taking up their tools, Denegal and Benat set to work

[Sett]

Galither was now getting to the stage where he was rather drunk slumped at the bar. However he was greeted with some company this fine hour. The two hobbits that he met earlier had entered the inn and they swiftly moved over to him. They were eager to hear move of his story but they looked around and noticed that the other men that were with Galither were now missing.

“Before you ask it’s a long story one I do not wish to speak of this day.”

Galither then turned to the two hobbits.

“Good Afternoon Hobbit-men.” Galither spoke

He then called over to the bar waitress and requested that three ales be made for them. She pulled the threes jugs of ale into their pint sized mugs and placed them in front of them all. Galither handed Ruby some coins and the two hobbits sat down.

“Been working hard gentlemen?” said Galither

“OH yes we been slaving away in the fields all days. Even broke a sweat in the last hour. That’s why we chose to take a break”

“Then you wants to hear more tales to bring you away from the burden of the days hardship?”

The two hobbits replied with eager faces, as they were rather excitable from the first tale.

“Okay where shall I begin” replied Galither

It was a day of light. No darkness crept up on it. So much light was being produced from the sun that nothing but beauty polluted the freshly coated air. Each wave of air truly felt like the angels touching our bones. It was our finest hour. We felt like the kings of the world. The braches and thicket, which we laid, felt like a royal palace. You would not believe that this day would be tainted, as it felt so pure.

However when we readied ourselves to continue into the northern lands we came across a skirmish between goblins and humans. It was a rare sight to see. The weirdest part was that a trolls emerged from the darkness of the mountain. This was an inconvenience to us as we were hoping to pass this area without trouble.
We charged down hoping to help our fellow kinsmen. Falmir and me pulled out our swords and shield and ran with great speed to fight. Sherman grasped his axe handle and yanked out the great battle-axe from his back. Thenergol also pulled out his spear and launched it though the air. We reached the battle and fended off the goblins with great force. Sherman took some blows to his chest but nothing pierced through. An arrow went through my leg but I continued to fight. Once enough goblins were dead they began to retreat. However the troll was very persistent and refused to move.

So Thenergol fired his spear straight through the chest of the troll and as he did this falmir jumped onto the back of the trolls and started striking the troll with his sword. Sherman and me were fending off the remaining goblins until they were all gone. Then the trolls began to get reckless and started throwing his hard body around attempting to shake off falmir.

Moments later men shouted to get falmir off the troll and arrows were fired into the belly of the troll, which taken him down with ease.
We stood on the man and accepted the spoils of war from the goblins. Mainly just gold and silver. This was not the end of our task but after meeting the trolls that attacked us earlier that week and now this we knew that we would face more in our journey.

Stalevor finished his story and left the two hobbits wanting to hear more. However they again needed to get back to work. This time Galither offered to lend his services for he had nothing else to do and wanted to take his mind off things. So he downed the rest of the ale and they made there way out of the inn, into the sun filled air.

[elf-girl-63]

Aranel looked up at the smiling, friendly face and swept some hair out of her bright, shining eyes. He was waiting patiently but she didn't know what to choose. The stranger who had recommended it hadn't mentioned food and she didn't have much clue what Hobbits preferred to eat.

"What would you suggest? I really can't decide," she sighed with relief. As few awkward situations as possible was her aim.

"Well Miss... Aranel. We've cold meat, hot soup, chicken, vegetables, broth, bread, cheese, pies and so on," he rattled the list off with an air of experience and waited once again for her choice.

"Some cheese, meat, soup and bred would be wonderful thank you. And could I possibly have an ale to drink? Thank you..."

"Ferdy it is. And I'm happy to help. But, if you don't mind me saying, you don't seem to be the type of lady to be drinking ale."

"I don't mind at all. I've been travelling a long time and when you do so you tend to get used to certain things. Like sleeping in the same clothes, not washing too often and of course- drinking ale!" She laughed, clear and bright and Ferdy nodded.

She could tell by the look on his face, that Ferdy was trying to work out from whence she came. Many a person had done so and few had any luck. Most didn't ask but those who did impressed her immensely- she did not want to be intimidating but friendly and sociable. Travelling had left Aranel weary and longing for human or hobbit company.

Sighing, she watched as Ferdy disappeared into the kitchen to pass on her order and once he had disappeared, the young lady turned to the fire to warm her hands.

[Annalaliath]

Annalalaith sat in the corner, now having been there for a few hours. She sat just watching the people mill about. There was a reason she liked it here, it was simple. Nothing too complicated. She leaned back in here chair, putting her head back to the wall, taking in the sounds and smells of the Inn. Relaxing, she began to doze, the sounds echoing around her, Annalalaith just listened.

In what place had she ever been so comfortable, she did not know. She sat in silence, the book on her lap lying open. She suddenly realized she needed a bath, and clean cloths. But why move now?

[Sett]

Galither was a swift worker and managed to till the two hobbits field far quicker than they ever could. The hobbits spent the morning ripped the resistant weeds from there bounds with the earth. It took great strength but these hobbits were middle-age folk and had enough of this to see them through. The ale gave them that extra piece of malice required to finish off their work so that their ale tasted that much sweeter when they drunk tonight.

Galither made there field very fine and it was fertile to such lengths that new born plants would grow to a similar level of height as Galither himself. The ground was free from its poison. The land was now free to breed the newborn plants.

Galither had promised the two hobbits another tale once the job was done. The two of them were now eager than ever especially with the rise in Galither’s mood. No longer was his contemplating this life he led but appreciated the life he now lived. The tranquil lie that was being upheld here was such a lure that Galither had taken the bait. The shire was like pipe weed once the taste pulled you in it was like a whirl of pleasure. It was so peaceful that he felt at ease inside. Telling tales of past adventures now seemed like a valiant adventure rather than an abysmal mess like he had been before.

They had finished the work and headed back to the inn. The two hobbits sat down outside as Galither offered to buy them ale each. He was feeling generous because that is the mood the place had left on him. He felt no need to keep his wealth to himself. He was paid generously for his work at Gondor and pockets were lined with gold and silver. However a lot of his money was left back at Gondor with his dear Esmerelda. He only just thought about her condition. He spent the day worrying about her but never wondered how she was. This set a dark cloud in his thoughts. She had in fact been bedridden for some time and was not on the mend. He loved her deeply but could not bare the images of seeing his love in pain so like a cowered took another mission to keep his mind off things. An idea had come to him as he missed his love so dearly but it seemed like a rather selfish proposition especially after the way he had mistreated her. She was probably not even aware that he was not around she was that sick.

He shook the dark thoughts from his head for the battle was over. His mind again lost the battle of wits being played deep in his conscience. He continued to the bar and asked ruby for three ales. She poured them gently into the mug and turned to look at Galither.

“Are you alright, sir?” She asked while missing some of the ale and pouring it on his lap. “Oh dear I am so sorry”

“Its okay I am fine” Galither replied now laughing with ruby at this most unfortunate incident.

“I will get you a rag to wipe it off” Ruby said. “No, no please I am fine. The sun shall clear this stain” She looked rather red as the man looked at her with a smile.

Galither then picked up his ales and carried them out of the inn. It felt like a long walk of shame as everyone turned down and looked at his pants and noticed the wet patch now very clear to the naked eye. Sniggers were heard as Galither took each step. He felt relaxed about the whole thing and did not take it to heart. This was the first bit of fun he had in a long time and did not want to spoil it so he continued to walk though the crowds of tables until reaching the door. The sunlight shuns on him and filled Galither with hope that this day was getting better than the morning. He placed the mugs onto the table where the three sat down and they shared looks of pity until Hamfast and Kristin, the hobbit men burst into laughter. Even Galither could not help but laugh at his predicament after a few shared moments of laugher they changed their moods to fit their current context. Galither then replied “Where shall I begin?”

[Mithalwen]

"Magic, Camille?" said Mithalwen, "I am not sure if that is the word - certainly I have no wand ... but we have within our powers skills and knowledge not known to others perhaps and some elves are mighty in healing - though even Lord Elrond needed to do more than wave a wand. " Mithalwen realised she was perhaps talking too theoretically for the child ..."Who needs healing Camille? I have but a little skill - good enough for Marigold's bumps and scrapes - for I am an artisan not a healer by training, but if it is beyond me, there is another elf lady here, Uien, who is ... unless she has already gone?"

Camille explained about Rory. "You say that he can walk but only a little? That at least is hopeful -but we must see him before we decide.. Do you need any assistance in fetching him here, he may be too great a burden for Mr Headstrong? "

[Arry]

Ferdy delivers Aranel’s meal

‘Cheese, meat, soup and bread . . . cheese, meat, soup and bread . . .’

Ferdy was mumbling the litany of items to himself as he entered the kitchen; trying not to forget what the woman had wanted to eat. He stopped short once he was a fair way into the room realizing that though he’d been in here often, he didn’t know where the utensils, bowls, trays, and other such things needed to put her food on were located. He sighed and started at the nearest cupboard, opening the doors methodically, one after the other, looking for what he needed. He’d found the bowls and plates and was on a quest for the spoons, knives, and a tray to put it all on when he heard a gasp behind him.

‘Cook will have your hide!’ said Ginger, looking at all the cupboard doors that stood open in Ferdy’s wake. She closed them as she drew nearer, asking what he thought he was doing.

It was Ruby, he’d told her, who’d sent him in to fetch a meal for one of the customers. Ruby’d been busy with another who wanted a room. ‘I really didn’t think it would be that difficult,’ Ferdy admitted.

Ginger soon found him a tray and filled the bowl with a generous helping of savory vegetable soup. She set him to slicing some ham and cheese while she got out a loaf of bread and sliced some thick pieces for the little basket she’d got out. Everything was arranged neatly on the tray, along with a small crock of butter, one of mustard, and one of blackberry jam.

She showed him how to hold the tray so it wouldn’t spill. Then reaching up to the left side of his face, she slicked back a stray curl, anchoring it behind his ear. He smiled and reddened a little as she did so. Ginger held open the door for him and he passed through into the common room, trying not to stumble.

Soon, he had negotiated his way to the woman’s table. And setting down the tray, placed the food and utensils before her. ‘Enjoy your meal, Miss,’ he said. ‘Will there be anything else you’ll be needing?’

[Noinkling]

Clearing the downed trees

‘Whoa up, Sweet William!’ Benat could hear Derufin talking softly to the horse. ‘There’s a good lad,’ Derufin went on, urging the horse forward now. Thick ropes had been tied about the branches of one of the trees and secured to Sweet William’s great padded collar. The horse put his muscle into it, and pulled the tree into the clearing. It was the last of the three Benat, Denegal, and Derufin needed to get bucked into more manageable logs.

Benat set to work with his log saw, taking the branches from the trunk and heaving them in a pile to be cut later. At the far end of the trunk, where no branches were, Derufin and Denegal set to work with the two-man crosscut saw. Several hours of work and they had a last pile of logs needing to be split with the mauls into logs small enough for the Inn’s stove and the fireplaces.

Mistress Zimzi, with the help of several lads from the Inn, had brought a cask of sweet cider, several buckets of cool water from the well, and a large basket of sweet-cakes to the work site. The three men now sat about the food and drink, pondering the work still to be done.

Benat dipped a ladle into one of the water buckets and took a long drink. Munching thoughtfully on two of the sweet-cakes, he looked over the pile of logs. ‘There’s a couple of hours or so of sunlight left before evening is upon us,’ he said, nodding toward the west. The shadows of the nearby trees had begun to lengthen, their leafy edges reaching further into the clearing. ‘Perhaps we should work on a few of the logs, and leave the rest for tomorrow morning.’ He looked at his two companions. ‘What say you?’

Cullen padded up on silent paws and plumped himself down next to Benat. He had had an interesting foray into the trees, snuffling out the tracks of rabbits, and foxes, and other little creatures that moved secretly on their own little journeys along the Inn’s boundaries. Now he was hungry . . . looking up quite expectantly at the remainder of the sweet-cake Benat held in his hand.

[elf-girl-63]

Aranel stared down at the tray and her eyes widened at the sight of so much food. To her family, she knew it would've seemed plain, simple fare, but to her it was beyond any feast that had ever been set before her. To dug into the bread and ham, occasionally dipping it into the warm soup. Eventually, after a couple of minutes, she realised that Ferdy was still stood infront of her and immediately felt impolite at having left him so.

He had a kind, friendly face and Aranel felt that she wasn't entirely alone. Feeling she should repay his efficiency she indicated to the seat opposite.

"Please, stay and help yourself. I shall never manage all this by myself, hungry though I am, and you look like you've been running around all day!"

Whether this was true or not, Aranel didn't know. Too be honest, she had merely said it in the hope of getting some company. However, she seemed ot have been correct as Ferdy looked around him, and quickly ducked into a chair as far in the corner as possible. She laughed and handed him some bread.

" So Ferdy, please call my Aranel by the way. How long have you been working at the Green Dragon?"

[Envinyatar]

Derufin chuckled at the dog’s antics. Hopeful looks had given way to a low pitched whine accompanied by the occasional thump of Cullen’s tail against Benat’s leg. ‘May I?’ he said, holding up one of the sweet-cakes. Benat nodded. Derufin stood and arced the cake up high into the sky. Cullen’s eyes had been on the cake, and he leapt up as it fell earthward, snapping it up in his large maw. A single gulp with barely a chew and the cake was gone.

‘Tis all there is, Master Dog!’ Derufin said as the hopeful canine wagged his tail.

Sitting back down, Derufin took a long drink from his cup of cider. ‘I think you’re right, Benat. A few more hours will leave us half done, I think, with this last pile of logs. I propose we do what we can then, please join Zimzi and me for supper at the Inn.’ He laughed, thinking of their bare cupboards. ‘Soon I’ll be able to invite you to my own kitchen . . . but, well, we’ve just moved in.’ He was thinking, too, of the raising cake Cook had promised to make for him.

‘What do you say, Denegal?’

[piosenniel]

Notice of Time Change in the Inn

In about 24 hours from now, I'm going to move us along to early evening.

So everyone please get in the daytime posts you need to.

Thanks, Pio

[Sett]

The sky was so clear that it felt right to discuss the end of that tale to the two hobbits now eager to hear what happened next. Galither however was not in a hurry as the day was still bright and there was no need to rush after this day. He pulled out a rug from his pocket filled with crushed up pipe weed. It had been crushed from all the adventures since Bree where he bought a whole new sachet. As he put his hand in the pocket he also felt a crisp note in the bottom of the deep hole.

Meet me under the oak tree
Love Esmerelda

It had been there for many months but Galither rarely emptied his pocket. There was so much junk and useless items that he couldn’t be bothered to empty it. He let out a tear upon reading the note but swiftly wiped his eyes as the two hobbits were sipping their ales.

“You call that pipe-weed?” Hamfast laughed
“I that I do, all they sold in Bree, of course it looked better back there” Galither replied

Hamfast then pulled out his very neatly tied rag. He unhooked the string that was binding the edges of his sachet. It rolled our like a parchment and out fell fresh pipe weed. It has so much colour compared to the weed found in Galither’s pocket. Hamfast then offered the other two to share in his very rich and luxurious pipe weed. Galither pulled out from his other pocket a shiny silver pipe that had been gently wrapped in a little case. He obviously has taken great care of this item, as he had kept this in the pocket near his heart.

“This was a present from my love Esmerelda for my birthday” said Galither

Galither then poured the fresh pipe weed into the pipes opening and lit up the pipe. It tasted rather sweet for pipe weed. It has a musky and rough texture in his lungs yet still filled them with the sense of fulfilment he had come to expect from the pipe weed. He was not addicted but did enjoy the taste very much, especially from his own pipe.

“Ah yes that tastes good. I forgot the taste of such things after what happened this morning. Thank you Hamfast for this rare treat. Now the story let me begin…”

[Arry]

A Hobbit never declines a bite to eat. And Ferdy was no exception. He took the bread and borrowed her knife, spreading a thick layer of blackberry jam on the chewy, whole-grained surface. From a passing server, he obtained a mug, while from another he got a small pitcher of cider. Around his mouthful of food, he smiled and tried to answer her question.

‘Well, actually, Miz Aranel,’ he began, taking a big gulp of cider to wash down the bread and jam. ‘Actually, I don’t work here at all. I was sitting with my friends . . . we were planning something we were going to do, when Ruby, one of the servers here, pressed me into service.’ He took another swallow of cider. ‘I’ve been here often enough to know what they have in the larder, so I though I’d give it a try. How hard could it be, after all, I thought.’ He chuckled at his misapprehension. ‘Luckily one of the serving lasses in the kitchen helped me out a bit and your food was got to you before it was stone cold.’

He’d finished his bread and jam and now looked covertly toward the basket of bread. ‘My goodness!’ he thought to himself she eats just like a little bird. ‘If I’d known, I would have made the helpings much smaller.’ He reached for another slice of bread, and seeing as how she did not object, he took a nice slice of ham. Wiping the knife off carefully on the bread, he plunged it into the crock of mustard and slathered the bread with it, placing the ham neatly atop it when he was done.

‘My Da and I and a few of my friends just finished helping out at the groundskeeper’s cottage. Added a new room, and redid the cupboards and windows,’ he said conversationally. ‘The new couple that live there just got married a few days ago . . . right here in the Inn yard.’ He smiled, remembering the dancing and drinking and food and fun. ‘Too bad you couldn’t have shown up earlier. I think you would have enjoyed it.’

‘What about you?' he asked, not wanting to seem as if he were talking too much. 'If you don’t mind my asking - what brings you here to Bywater?

[Hookbill the Goomba]

Dwaline eyed John with a lessened suspicion. John seemed nervous and jumpy and looked to be avoiding Dwaline's gaze. The dwarf folded his arms and stared directly at John sternly. John shifted his weight uneasily and looked everywhere but at the dwarf.

"I do not know where Aman is." said the dwarf at last, "Nor do I know who she is. I have not been here long enough to know everyone." he chuckled to himself and stroked his beard. John looked nervously towards Dwaline and seemed defensive as if trying to hide his eyes, lest the dwarf some how read his thoughts. Dwaline had no such powers, but John was suspicious all the same.

Avalon, who was now sat on the table, seemed more and more disturbed by John. She seemed uncomfortable as if she had a foreboding about him, but did not know what it was. Dwaline noticed this and was worried.

"Tell me, John, if that is you're true name, whence did you come from, and what business brings you to the shire."

[elf-girl-63]

The young hobbit eagerly helped himself to the food but Aranel didn't mind at all. He had given her hobbit-sized portions which were a contradiction in terms. To a new traveller, it was amazing to watch. She had thought that she was eating a lot and very greedily, as her family would've happily pointed out but compared to this Ferdy... Well, she was simply glad they weren't there.

Aranel listened as he talked easily and confidently about his life. When he mentioned the wedding the few days before, his eyes lit up. Ferdy clearly remembering the enjoyment he'd had.

"Oh, well I'm sure you don't really wish to know. Afterall, you hardly know me."

"But you don't me either Miz Aranel. And besides, I long to hear of far off places. Someday I hope... I hope to travel," Ferdy blushed at the admittance of such a secret longing. The young lady simply nodded but behind her bright eyes, he saw something darker. As Pa always said "the eyes are the window to the soul".

"Well, if you insist," she put the spoon of soup down and stared into the fire, recalling the memories that she had tried to forget. "I was born in Minas Tirith, in Gondor, 23 years ago. The first half of my life was mixed. My family was wealthy, we enjoyed company with Denethor and his sons, but we (well I) knew that this life could soon disappear. I suppose we lived in fear, but my father ignored that aspect of our life and continued to have us believe that Sauron was legend, a distant fear, nothign to worry about. Then Gandalf came to the city.

I saw him arrive, in secret, and watch him being lead to the libraries of all our writings. When he had gone, I slipped down (for our family had great power and influence) and read what he had. Somehow I knew that the end was coming, whether for Middle-Earth or Sauron. Anyway, time passed. Sauron grew stronger, Osgiliath was taken and then came the end. Denethor died, King Elessar was crowned and we lived in peace once again. My family remained prosperous, in good humour with the royality but I was not satisfied.

I am the middle child of my family. The lost one as they say. I was expected to marry but I didn't wish to. As you, yourself have admitted, I wished to travel, to see the world. My fmaily often criticised me. I do not know why, but perhaps it was inevitable. My older brother is a strong fighter and very loyal, my younger sister a great beauty and sociable, pleasant, open. I preferred knowledge, to open my mind, but in my parents' views that isn't the right path for a young lady of respectable class.

Eventually, I was ignored. Left to myself. I became bored with the city, wonderful though it is. One day I told my parents I was leaving. Honestly, they weren't surprised... but neither supportive. They gave my some money, a horse and off I set. I have been travelling many months since that day. Stopping in villages to work and increase my funds. I have travelled over fields and mountians and met many folk along the way. And now, I have arrived here. But I feel i have said too much."

She looked up and saw understanding, not judgement. Blinking back several tears, Aranel continued eating.

[Witch_Queen]

Jon chuckled a bit before turning his total existance into a very serious matter. He bent forward so the dwarf could him a bit better."Jon is my real name and as for where I come from...." Jon reached up and pulled the hood off his head revealing the look of a very young man. "I come from Rohan seeking counsel with the one named Aman. She's the innkeeper of this place. As for my business in the Shire... well I seek counsel with Aman. The details are not important and neither is anything else dealing with my existance.

Jon decided it best not tell the dwarf the entire story. The mystery behind his journey, Jon like to keep a mystery. He didn't need to tell the dwarf everything. "Master Dwarf, you seem a bit too curious for your kind. You should watch where you stick your nose cause you never know when someone will come along and cut it off." Jon set back in his set with a smile across his face. "I mean no harm to either of you. As for Avalon.." Jon looked at the white crow. "As for you my child, I have seen your kind in my dreams. I'm haunted by the elf crow bearer." The look on the crow's face told Jon everything he wanted to know. "So you are the crow that was with her? Weird how in my dreams you look so different. Master Dwarf where is her old friend? What has become of the female cursed elf."

Avalon looked at the man. She didn't know what else to think. He knew about Cree and Avalon thought some how something bad had happened to her. No all is good. Cree is still alive. I know he wouldn't hurt her. He promised me that she would be safe. Avalon turned her head to gaze at Dwaline. "Go ahead and tell the human what he wishes. After all I feel as if he may know something about our elf friends. Perhaps Cree someday will come back to me."

[Hookbill the Goomba]

Dwaline nodded at Avalon and cleared his thought. Taking a deep drink of ale he turned his attention to John again.

"Cree, the elf who once was Avalons accomplice, has gone off to far off lands." He cracked his neck and leant forwards, "She went with an old friend of mine, Fáinu, who is cursed by a dragon. Or so he thinks. They are going to the grey mountains to seek a Dragon. Rumours have grown there of a fiery death that has swept the land. Fáinu in the hotness of his heart made it his business to go off in search of it, thinking it a dragon.

"Cree, who apparently had known Fáinu from a long time back, insisted on going with him. She knew it a dangerous mission and so did not let Avalon get caught up in it. That is how I read into it." Avalon nodded slightly. "And as for sticking my nose in places," sniggered Dwaline, "I have been doing that since childhood. Call it a hobby, or more an addiction now. Collecting news has always been my joy. But now I am old and rambling."

The Dwarf peered into John's eyes and smiled, "You wish to keep you’re history and identity secret? That is fare enough; many do the same for their own reasons. But this dream of yours..." John turned sharply towards Dwaline detecting some thing in his voice, "It interreges me. I may not claim to know the minds of men, or elves or even Dwarves. But I know one who does. Tell me of it and I shall tell him. Perhaps you shall know the meaning of it."

[piosenniel]

Notice of Time Change in the Inn

It is now early evening; the skies are clear.

~*~ Pio

[piosenniel]

~*~ GREEN DRAGON INN FACTS ~*~

The Green Dragon Inn is located in Bywater, just off the Great East-West Road.

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.

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+

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; Man from southwestern Gondor (played by Envinyatar)

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

Meriadoc - Stablemaster

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+

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.

_____________________________________________

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