The Green Dragon Inn #11 - The Last Chapter

[Valier]

Penn raised her mug,and slowly drained,she noticed the blurry image of the two dwarves and couldn't help from giggling and giving a little hiccup.Placing the mug down on the table with a slight jolt,Penn examined the beings in front of her more closely.

Penn had never personally met a Dwarf,she had espied some on trips to Edoras with her father,but sitting infront of two now she was quite impressed,what with their stout stature and their long beards.She thought them a hardy people and was glad to be conversing with them over good ale.

Penn's thoughts were conveyed on her face with a smile,she quickly blushed and took another long draught of ale.Penn pushed her blond hair from out her eyes,her cheeks slightly flushed, she cleared her throat..That's two for me"...She said with a grin."Are you gentle-men headed for the Ered Luin?"

[Undómë]

‘. . . perhaps after getting to know each other a little better you will not be so upset that your sister and I,' Farael looked at the flower on his tunic, 'were having a little conversation!’

I highly doubt that! thought Tindomion to himself. He kept his expression neutral as the man finished speaking. ‘Yes, no doubt, we will be safer with weapons at hand,’ he said, nodding his head at Farael. ‘The High King’s Peace aside, I have no trust of Sauron’s minions, especially his Orcs. I’ve seen too often the death they bring. Cruel death. And for the most part, solely for the sport of it.’

Telu spoke up, saying that perhaps they should go back to the Inn, to fetch their bows and quivers. ‘I’ll bring mine, too,’ she said, taking her brother’s arm as they started back toward the Dragon. Tindo raised his brow at her suggestion, then laughed.

‘You think to beat me this time, little sister?’ he chuckled. ‘Don’t deny it! I can see it written in your eyes.’ He peered around Telu to where Farael walked along beside her. ‘She never forgave our father or Thranduil for forbidding her to join our ranks. She really is quite good, you know.’

[Captain Grishnahk]

Grishnahk watched as the people before him walked away. The orc beside him jumped to his feet once they were a good deal away.
"Aye now!" he sneered, "a nice lil' place 'ere, eh? Safe and sound from the world about ye."
"What do you want," Grishnahk said, towering about the greasy goblin.
"You knows good and wells why we's 'ere." the orc said stooping close to the ground and backing up a few feet. One could tell that this orc was terrified of the Captain, but the orc kept his head as well as he could.
"We," Grishnahk said in thought, "I see now, it's not just Them looking for me, is it? He's got the whole lot of ya searchin'."
"Aye!" shouted the orc, he seamed pleased, and smiled revealing his teethless mouth, "He are!"
Grishnahk drew his dagger, he had left his better weapons inside, but this foul maggot would be easy to dispose of.

A shreik was heard from afar off.

[Koobdooga]

Ibun looked at Fror and then back to Penn. The young woman was giggling! And here she was only on her second mug of ale, her cheeks a little flushed. He thought perhaps she might be only a mug away from regretting she had made a wager with them.

He chuckled as she asked about Ered Luin. ‘ “Gentlemen” . . . now there is a compliment I don’t often hear! About the Blue Mountains - yes, we two just met here at the Inn and found out we are both headed in that direction. I’m hoping to find some of my kin and give them an invitation from my King to return to Khazad-dum.’

‘You haven’t by any chance come from that way, have you, Penn? This is the farthest west I’ve traveled. It would be nice to know what lies ahead.’

He leaned forward and took her empty mug from in front of her, wondering if she would indeed drink another. From a pocket in his vest he fished out a short pipe and filled the bowl with pipeweed from a much handled leather pouch. He offered it to Penn and Fror.

[piosenniel]

Cook was just coming up the stairs to the cellar beneath the kitchen when the two lads burst through the door. ‘What’s this about the smokehouse?’ she demanded, putting the small bag of dried beans down on the counter.

Fallan and Ferrin began talking at once, their words tumbling all over one another. Cook cleared her throat at a brief pause in their dialog and fixed them with a look of impatience. Ferrin hissed at his brother to shut up for a moment, then proceeded to tell Cook, in a clearer manner what they had discovered. ‘And Gil and Tomlin shut the door back up and are keeping guard in case the culprit comes back!’ he said at last, looking pleased that they had made such a good plan.

‘Get right back out there and tell those two brave fools to get themselves in here! The culprit come back, indeed!’ she snorted. ‘And what if he does come back and it’s some big old bear or some thoroughly nasty critter of the two legged variety. What are they planning on doing, then?’ Fallon and Ferrin shrugged their shoulders at her question and hurried back out the door to fetch their friends.

‘Ruby!’ said Cook, arming herself with the heavy, iron fireplace poker. ‘You run and fetch the Shiriff. And tell Halfred to bring along his deputies. I’m going out to see what’s been taken. I’ll be back directly.’

[Farael]

The group made it back into the Inn and the elves and man went into their rooms. Farael told the brothers he might take an extra few minutes, yet fifteen minutes turned into half an hour and the man had not yet come back from his room. Tindomion was already thinking Farael had changed his mind and gone for a nap when he walked into the room. He was wearing a light mail and a black surcoat over it, with the image of the white tree on his chest. On his belt hung a short sword in its scabbard and slung over his shoulder were his bow and quiver. All this equipment was for showmanship rather than protection, but he had earned the privilege of wearing those clothes and he did so on every occasion that called for it. He also wore them on occasions that did not call for it, such as this one.

“I hope you forgive me if I am late, Master Elf, but I had not had time to wash these garments since I walked in after about a week in the jungle. They were not presentable enough for Telu…yaviel” he finished, after a glare from her brother. “Still, m’lady I have not been able to get this beautiful flower back in my clothes. Perhaps you’d care to help me?” he offered her the flower and she secured it again, this time on his mail, over his shoulder.

The trio went back out on the Inn’s grounds and Farael excused himself for a minute, running into the nearby trees. He came back shortly after carrying a piece of bark –which he found on the ground- he explained before the elves could complain. There was enough dirt on it to argue in favour of Farael and so the siblings did not complain when he carved a target on the wood. He laid it against a tree and counted twenty long steps from it. Then he explained what the contest would be like. Each would have five arrows, one point would be given for a shot on the centre of the target, half a point would be given for a shot right outside the centre and no points would be given for a miss. He offered going first to illustrate his own game. The arrows would have to be retrieved after each shot so that the target would not be too clogged and so Tindomion stood half-way to the target, hoping the man would be accurate enough not to hit him.

Farael nocked an arrow, pulled the string and released it in one soft motion. His aim was true and he hit the target almost dead centre. Tindomion retrieved the arrow, placed the makeshift target back on its spot and Farael tried again. This time he was not as accurate, gaining only half a point. Same thing happened on his following attempt. With two arrows left, he hoped he would not embarrass himself by missing yet he managed to hit centre on both tries. Having a score of four out of a possible five was quite a feat for any human archer, but the smug look in Tindomion’s face told him it might not be so for an elf.

The next to try was Teluyaviel. Her first try was slightly to the left of centre, but she corrected her aim and her following four attempts were right on the mark. With four and a half points she was on the lead, but judging by her brother’s smile, it would not be for too long.

Tindomion’s first attempt was right on the centre of the target. The following three were all but a carbon-copy of the first. Farael could see Teluyaviel’s disappointment as she was about to be bested by her older brother yet again, but that was not on Farael’s plans. As Tindomion was winding up to release his last arrow, Farael coughed rather noisily and grabbed his throat as if he were choking. Tindomion’s arrow went wild and far off the mark, while the man seemed to recover quite quickly. “My grand mother always said, keep your mouth shut else a fly finds its way in.” he explained, “ I guess she was right for I felt something go down my throat rather unexpectedly. I am fine now, let’s see how you did with that last arrow.” Farael walked over to the target rather dramatically and retrieved an arrow from the tree behind it. “Well, who could have known!! It seems the winner has been Teluyaviel!!” he bowed to her and to Tindomion’s dismay he even offered her his arm for the walk back into the Inn. “I will buy the best archer among us an ale, and her brother as well so that maybe after a little talk we will actually know each other better.” Tindomion’s frown was enough to tell that Farael’s little archery contest had not been enough to appease the elf.

[Valier]

Penn looked longingly at the weed,but Pip had long since stolen and hidden her pipe."Why thank you fine sir,but I seem to have misplaced mine,thanks to Pip.If you have one to spare,that would be greatly appreciated."Penn smiled and reached for another ale and downed half the mug before she answered."No I have not come from that way.I hail from the outskirts of Rohan,this is the farthest West I have been as well."

What Fror and Ibun had no inkling of, was Penn grew up around men and men who liked to drink at that.She was giggly and flush,yes but far from inebriation.The flush was more from the thought of the Dwarves then the ale.She placed her mug roughly on the table and reached for another.Taking a long puff of the pipe they lent her,she proceeded to blow smoke rings at the ceiling."Khazadum,now that would be a sight to see!Are you both going there?" Penn asked as she looked from Fror to Ibun."I would love to see the great works of the Dwarves!" Her eyes lit up At the thought of the great halls."I have never seen such things in my short life."

Penn could count,but twenty years and what had she achieved? nothing,no glory,no valor,no love even,nothing.Penn frowned slightly at the thought,but quickly recovered and drank the last of the mug she held in her hand."That's three for me,I believe."At the moment she placed her mug on the table and taking a puff,reaching for another ale,Pip decided to make himself seen.

He climbed out the bag,up her arm and proceeded to try and pry the still smoking pipe from her fingers."Well my dear friends,I do say this is Pip."Penn lightly picked Pip up by his white scruff,much to his dismay."Be nice!" Penn said to the ball of fur."Would you care to touch him? I would show you Merr as well,if you would like. he is for lack of better words fat and quite lazy,but I will retreive him." Penn reached down and produced a VERY large ball of fur which seemed to be still asleep.

Placing him in her lap,she held out Pip to the two Dwarves."Go ahead he won't bite,he might like your beards though."Penn took another long draught of her ale.