The Green Dragon Inn #11 - The Last Chapter

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

The sudden chorus of small voices was a bit bewildering to the Bard, who was more used to hearing calls for another song than suggestions that he not sing again – or, worse, that his song had not been the right one for the occasion. He turned to the Boffin boys first. “I’m sure your Da would never punish you for simply singing a song, lads! He may make his living by harvesting the trees of the forest, but sure there are trees that he holds dear and would be loath to see felled. I have heard that there is one tree in the Shire of some magnificence, brought here by the Adventurers, and I am sure that none would dare lay their axe to it!”

Hanson’s eyes grew wide at the very idea. “Sure, there isn’t a hobbit anywhere who would cut down the Party Tree!”

Hearpwine grinned, believing he had scored a point. “Well, then, you see – your Da will understand the song.”

“Begging your pardon, sir,” Reggie said, “but your song wasn’t about the Party Tree, it was about an oak that you loved. I don’t think Mister Boffin and his brothers would care about that!”

Hearpwine opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by Willy. “Well who cares about any old tree! I still say as we should sing a song about food and drink. And hobbits!”

“Well,” Hearpwine began again, “as it happens, I don’t know any songs of the Shire. That is why I am here. You see, my King…” but once again he was interrupted, this time by all the boys at once. At first he tried calling for them to attend to him, but their excited voices drowned him out. He thought back rapidly to his own school days, trying to remember what his master would do when he did not attend to his lessons, but the memory of the switch was a painful one, and he could not imagine inflicting anything like that on a child – let alone a hobbit child, not one of whom was any higher than his knee. Not knowing what else to do, then, he played upon his harp: but it was no tune or melody that filled the room. Instead, it was a jarring and ugly sound that he drew from the strings, discordant and unordered. It pained him deeply to assault his instrument in such a fashion, but it worked for the children fell silent and gazed at him in awe of how terrible a sound he was making.

“Thank you,” he said when they had fallen silent once more. “I am sorry that some of you are not overly fond of the song, but I cannot think of a better!”

“Master Hearpwine, can I say something?” The Bard looked at the speaker and for the first time noticed that it was an Elven child. His face registered shock, for never had he beheld an Elf younger than himself. So surprised was he that he made no answer, so the little fellow continued on his own. “If it’s true that no-one in the Shire would object to a song telling the woodsman not to chop down the Party Tree, then maybe we could change your song a bit and make it about that. I know that I would be happy to sing such a song, for the new Party Tree is a mallyrn and much beloved of my people.”

Hearpwine smiled at the lad and then turned to the others. “Well, children? What do you think?” there was a general mood of assent in the room, with many bright hobbit faces nodding in agreement. “Very well then,” he continued, “let us work on altering the lyrics so that it is a song about the Party Tree!”

[Tevildo]

Camille glanced over at Neviel, her eyes glowing with surprise and approval. Elf or not, the lad had a good idea. Surely, none of the parents would complain about a ballad that spoke of protecting the marvellous mallorn tree. In the short time that she had been in the Shire, Camille had heard of the events that had led to the felling of the old tree and the planting of the new one. Still, she had questions still unanswered.

Raising her hand wildly in the air to get the Bard's attention, the hobbit lass blurted out, "Tis a good idea. But there's one thing I don't understand. Will you be writing the song for us? Or are you saying we should do it? And how could we ever write a song? None of us have ever done that before....or at least I don't think so."

Valin Stormfist had been roaming the lands for years. He stopped only for rest, as his explorers heart leapt at the chance to see distant lands. His explorations of the vast world he inhabited had brought him to joyous place. It seemed that there was some indeed a place known as the Green Dragon Inn.

He was in much need of some rest and a good drink, so he then decided to go to the inn even though it spoke against his life of solitude. As he opened the door he saw that there was much dancing and mirth. The sight actually made a grin come across his face, something that indeed did not happen often anymore.

He strode through the door, his long brown hair flowing down as he removed his helmet. It did not take too long for him to find the drink he so longed for, and with all the dancing a seat was easier to find. He sat down and stretched out his tired legs. As he drank he watched them dance and his heart did not seem as heavy as before.

The Shire it seemed, was not an unhappy place. It was good to see that not everything was as bleak as it sometimes seemed. Maybe there was something to being around others. Maybe solitude was not his answer. His thoughts soon left him as he finished his drink and closed his eyes. Relaxation was quick to call.

[Arry]

Woody’s features lightened at the suggestion that the class could rewrite the words to the song. He was sure his Da would not mind something that had to do with taking care of the Party Tree. As he thought, his chalk moved quickly over his slate, drawing the mallorn tree as it would be all flowered out at the Spring Faire. Drawing, he found, always helped him to concentrate.



He stood up once he was done and cleared his throat a bit. Before he could lose his nerve, he recited his reworking of the first verse:

Ruffian, spare our Party Tree!
Touch not a single bough!
In youth it sheltered me,
And I'll protect it now.
'Twas Samwise Gamgee’s able hand
That placed it near his cot:
There, ruffian, let it stand,
Thy axe shall harm it not!

He sat down quickly, the tips of his ears burning, hoping no one would laugh at his try.

[Kath]

As Woody began to recite his version of the poem, Astilwen grabbed a pencil and a piece of paper from the back of the classroom and scribbled down the words as he spoke them. Once he had finished she read over the words and was impressed at the young hobbits ability with the difficult words of the song.

"That was really good Woody!" she called out. "Do you have any more ideas? Or would someone else like to take a turn?"

[Azaelia of Willowbottom]

Suddenly, the door to the Inn opened again. A youngish hobbit girl stood in the entryway, and looked around. Her green eyes took in the crowded room, and looked with shy curiosity at the traveler with long brown hair who was seated with a drink at a table near the door.

Absentmindedly, she brushed a flyaway blond curl behind her ear. Her hair had never been particularly neat, so she had become so used to simple gestures such as that particular one, that she now did them without thinking.

[Fairleaf]

Daisy had a good memory for song and rhyme. She loved to listen to her mother singing as she spun the wool from their sheep.

She raised her hand tentatively, then stood at her table when Master Hearpwine and Astilwen glanced her way. In a clear, piping voice she sang out her idea for the second verse:

That graceful mallorn tree
Whose glory and renown
Are spread o’er land and sea,
And wouldst thou hew it down?
Ruffian, forbear thy stroke!
Cut not its earth-bound ties;
Oh spare it for us Hobbit folk
Heed our warning cries!

‘I wasn’t sure about that land and sea stuff, but I figured if Mister Frodo and Mister Bilbo had gone over the sea to visit the Elves, then they surely must have told them all about the Party Tree. Especially since it was right near Mister Bilbo’s place.’ She blushed as the string of words came to and end. ‘And I’ll bet they told them about both of the trees – the one that used to be here. Before I was born. And the pretty one Mayor Sam planted.’

[Tevildo]

"Ah, that's so wonderful, Woody and Daisy!" Camille blurted out, interrupting Astilwen before she could even answer. "I'm nowhere near as good with rhymes. But, if we're going to talk about the Party Tree, shouldn't we say something about the Party?" At the first mention of the Spring Faire and the Party Tree, Camille's mind had immediately conjured up an image of the vast spread of food she would likely find sitting on the tables directly underneath the tree. She wondered if the words were too commonplace for such a fine song.

"Would something like this do?" she tentatively queried.

Join me then dear friend,
Underneath its silvery bark.
Golden hours we shall spend
Till morn gives way to dark,
Sampling platters sure to delight
The hungriest in the Shire.
As hobbits marvel at the sight
Of a fat pig o'er an open fire.

[Larien Telemnar]

Larien looked up in surprise to see a man standing before her.
'Would you mind if I joined you, my Lady? It would be an honour'. He bowed, smiled, and waited for her answer. For a moment Larien was speachless. Aparently this stranger wished to sit with her. What was it about the Shire that people were so friendly to her, an Elven-raised Halfling who was running from her past? Why weren't people more suspiscious, even travelers like this man.

She realized that she couldn't leave this man standing before her all day, so she rose and curtseyed.

She smiled up at him. 'Yes please join me, Sir. I would be happy to share my table.' She indicated the chair oposite her and sat down once more.

She could tell from his attire that he was a traveller, and a man of Rohan. Curiosity drowned out her own cautious nature, so she decided to make conversation.

'From whence do you come, Sir, if you don't mind my asking. You are man of Rohan, if I am not mistaken, and that is a place far off from this.'

[Seth Cotton]

Éothen nodded and sat down in the opposite chair with his tea and bread. He started to eat a little of his bread, and he noticed the woman was looking at him. He looked up at her, smiling friendly, then she asked 'From whence do you come, Sir, if you don't mind my asking. You are man of Rohan, if I am not mistaken, and that is a place far off from this.'.

‘True.’ Éothen said shortly and cleaned his hands with the napkin. ‘Far indeed; it was a long journey here.’ He smiled and sipped some of his tea, the aroma was delightful and the heat from the tea sparkled and warmed hup his whole body. He had a recovering feeling that he got from the tea, he looked down in the cup, but as it appeared just normal he shrugged.

‘Oh, and yes, maybe I should introduce myself closer.’ He chuckled and put his plate of bread and napkin away. ‘I am Éothen, Captain of Rohan. I serve King Éomer.’ He paused, but then added. ‘I am not on duty now, of course, this is a small private journey off-duty made for pleasure and exploring.’

The woman appeared troubled to him, sort of uncomfortable. He glanced around from side to side, trying to see if there was something nearby that made her feel uncomfortable. ‘My Lady...’ He started again, but stopped. He didn’t want to question her right away, it wouldn’t be polite. Especially as they barely knew each other.

‘And what is your name, my Lady? Are you from around here?’ He forced a smile, just to ease up the situation a little and took another sip off his tea.

[Alcarillo]

Alcarillo swallowed his mouthful of bacon, dabbed at his mouth with a napkin, cleared his throat, and when the elderly hobbit woman seemed to be losing patience, spoke.

"I have not seen the innkeeper all morning, madam, but I'm sure that one of the servers could direct you to her," he answered. Remembering to be courteous, he said "Please, have a seat." Alcarillo gestured to an empty chair at his table. "My name is Alcarillo Nession, and I'm from Harlindon. Are you hungry?"

Alcarillo was finishing his breakfast, but still felt it was rude to be eating in front of her while she ate nothing. Alcarillo pushed his half-eaten plate of bread across the table towards her. "Here, have some bread."

[Nerindel]

Lúrëaelda's return

A low sun shone bright in the clear blue morning sky, as Lúrëaelda rounded a the hill that led to the Green Dragon inn. The road was dry and small dust clouds rose in his wake, leaving a thin covering on the deerskin boots that covered his feet and half way up his calf. As the familiar sounds and smells of the inn reached this ears and eyes he looked up, his unusual piercing yellow eyes glistening in silent recognition at the familiar sight of the green dragon hanging almost welcomingly over the door.

A single voice coming from the rear of the inn caused the Silvan Hunter to freeze, his dark grey skin paling as he recalled the admonishments of the inns Cook the last time he had arrived at the inn. As he remembered it he had been innocent in the whole incident, but still Ms Vinca Bunce was not one to upset especially when it came to food and the payment thereof.

“No, surely she will not remember,” he swallowed shaking his head and turning away from the busy kitchen sounds and facing again the welcoming entrance of the inn. It had been sometime since he had left and as well as being a little taller than before he was now more sure of himself. A lot had happened since his last visit some good and some not so, but in all that time one image had burned in his memory.

A wry grin reached his lips as he ran a nervous hand through his dark cropped hair, disturbing the thin silvery braid from his shoulder so it fell down his back over the dusty hide jacket that covered the garb of an elf of Eryn Lasgalen, would she even remember me he wondered fleetingly. Then adjusting the bow and pack on his shoulders he pushed open the green door and stepped inside, his eyes hopingly searching for the friendly warm smile of the Dragon’s innkeeper.

[Larien Telemnar]

Larien smiled when Eothen mentioned being one of the rohirrim. She recalled an adventure she had had a few years ago in Rohan. She had the privilage to meet the King and many of the soldiers and captains. She wondered if she had met this man before.

Her smile faded quickly when she remembered the consequences of that adventure, though. One of the very events that had led to her sitting at that table with this stranger in the Shire.

‘My Lady...’ She looked up quickly, remembering her manners, hoping he had not noticed her attentions wandering off. The Stranger's voice trailed off, a look of uncertainty crossing his face. I hope I haven't offended him in some way. She worried to herself.


‘And what is your name, my Lady? Are you from around here?’

Larien's face flushed with embarresment when she realized she had forgotten her manners and failed to introduce herself.

'Forgive me sir!' She cried. 'I am Larien Telemnar. I am a traveller, going from one place to another- but there was a time that I lived in Rivendell, as the adopted daughter of Lord Elrond.'

[Pivli]

Violet sat down on the offered chair; perched, that is, like some small green bird, on the seat’s edge. ‘The fellow is nice enough,’ she thought to herself, ‘but Violet you don’t really know him now, do you?’

His offer to share his bread with her, however, melted her reserve somewhat, and she smiled at him. ‘Well, now that would be quite nice,’ she said, scooting herself back in the chair.’

The elder hobbit loosened the ties on her black and beflowered bonnet and set it carefully to one side of the table. She patted her graying curls, hoping they had not got all wild and flyaway when she removed the hat.

‘My name is Miz Greengage. Violet Greengage. Live up by The Pool,’ she said, introducing herself. ‘Very nice to make your acquaintance Master Nession.’ Violet glanced about the room, hoping to see someone who looked as if they were in charge.

‘I wonder - might I have the pot of jam, there, too, if you don’t mind?’ she said as he pushed the basket of bread toward her. ‘And one other, small request, if you don’t mind. I haven’t been into town in a great number of years. Who is the Innkeeper these days?’

[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) - AWAy AT PRESENT

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

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

[piosenniel]

Time of Day

It's mid-morning in the Shire. Breakfast is still being served.

The weather is pleasant - sunny with a clear sky.

[Koobdooga]

Ibun Lodestone shifted the large, dark leather pack to his other shoulder as he turned up the dirt path to the Inn. The Dwarf paused for a moment, letting the morning’s breezes riffle through his long russet beard. He pushed back the hood of his yellow cape, letting the full heat of the sun warm his face. He grinned, his mustache curving up in a definite bow above his generous lips. Borne on the trails of those same morning breezes was the creak, creak of the Inn’s sign as it swayed on its iron chains.

‘Be needing a little oil, they do,’ he murmured to himself, hearing the protest of metal against metal.’

The Green Dragon was famous in the tales of his fathers, being the local watering hole nearest the hilly home of Master Bilbo Baggins, renowned thief. He chuckled to himself, delighted that he would at last see it.

A few steps brought him to the door, where he paused to knock the mud from his boots and shake the dust from his cloak. Leaving the bright morning light, he entered the darker interior of the common room, blinking a little as his eyes adjusted to the dimness. He felt at ease within the Inn’s walls – its cool, dark interior reminding him of the caves and mines of his home to the far east . Smells of food and drink assailed his nostrils, and he felt his stomach grumble in anticipation.

Taking a table near the wall, where his back would be protected and his view of those coming and going unobstructed, Ibun eased his pack off his shoulders. His cloak he laid neatly over the back of his chair. With a sigh of relief he sat down in the oaken chair. It had been a long morning’s walk and his feet had begun to protest it several miles back.

Servers were hurrying this way and that with platters of food and flagons of spirits. ‘I say, Miss!’ he called out to one who was passing on her way back toward the kitchen. ‘Do you think you might bring a hungry Dwarf some eggs and ham?’ His mouth watered at the thought of it. ‘And perhaps a pint of your fine ale to wet my whistle. My tongue’s fair parched from the dust kicked up from your farmers’ wagons!’

[brim]

Brim followed the dwarf's voice to where he sat. He seemed rater intruging. smiling to herself Brim set her book away. Even though the story was riveting she had enough fiction for on day. "Newalme, could you get me something to eat perferably warm?" she asked quickly.
The young man quickly got up from the table for a visit to one of the waitresses. he nodded to the lady and motioned over the nearest waitress to come.

[Witch_Queen]

Cariâthwen's return


The Green Dragon loomed on the horizon. Cariâthwen had returned to the inn hoping that she might find company for the long ride ahead of her. She sat on her horse staring down at the marvles of The Shire. The beast beneath her began to move from side to side, left to right. "So your ready then?" The animal moved it large white head up and down given his approval. "Well then shall we."

Before she could finish her sentence the horse began a dead run towards the Green Dragon Inn. Cariâthwen did her best to keep from falling of the back of her large white horse that she call Thorn. Out of the corner of her eye Cariâthwen thought she saw what was a bird of some sort but wasn't sure.

The outside of the inn hadn't changed a bit since she had last seen it. Cariâthwen saw a passing hobbit lad. "Excuse me...Yes you... If you would be so kind as to escort Thorn here to the stables I'll treat you to a pint or two." The face of the hobbit seemed to lighten up at the sound of a pint. "Thanks I'll be waiting inside by the bar." Cariâthwen stood up straight pulling the hood of her cloak over her head to try to hide her face. Now lets see what is going on inside the Inn. Hope its nothing to drastic.

Cariâthwen opened the door to the Inn and noticed that nothing about the place had changed. She walked over to the bar to wait for the hobbit so she could keep her promise. Cariâthwen seemed lost in thought when suddenly she was brought back to reality at the feel of a tug on her cloak. She looked down noticing a smiling hobbit standing beside her. "Oh yes I almost thought you wasn't going to join me." She turned to the maiden behind the bar. "Can I have two pints of the strongest ale for my friend here." The maiden smiled and went about getting the two pints of ale. Cariâthwen turned placing her back against the wooden bar. Her gray eyes scanned the inn not knowing what to be looking for.

The sound of the pints being sat on the dark wood of the bar caught her attention. Turning around Cariâthwen paid for the pints and handed them to the hobbit that helped her a few moments ago. "Here you go as I promised two pints for your service." Noticing an empty table in the darkest part of the inn Cariâthwen though it best to find herself a seat. Empty was no understatement. The lonely table in the corner was lacky chairs. Noticing a table that was surrounded by chairs Cariâthwen decided the obtain an empty chair so she was not having to stand up all day. "Excuse me...." Cariâthwen couldn't tell if the figure that sat at the table was friendly or not. "I'm sorry to bother you...Would you care if I took a chair.. All the others are currently occupied." The words seemed to spill out of her mouth despite her failed attempt of concealing her elven accent. Taking a closer look at the figure Cariâthwen noticed the figure was a he and he appeared to be looking at a piece of paper.

[Hookbill the Goomba]

Seleven examined the paper. It was defiantly the hand of Smilog who had written this, the evil looking bird had been enough of a clue, but the black ink and the jagged letters clinched it. Before he read any of it, he could guess what it said; he took a sip of ale. As he did so, a small shape appeared at the other end of the table.

"I'm sorry to bother you" it said with a pause, "Would you care if I took a chair. All the others are currently occupied." Seleven nodded and returned to his reading. The figure had not moved, Seleven raised an eyebrow and said, "Good morning," hoping that the figure would perhaps give him some privacy. But yet it moved not.

Seleven placed the paper on the table, it clunked as the wax seal hit the wood and fell to rest. The figure stood still, looking at him while he drank his ale. Eventually, Seleven felt he should break the silence; "I see curiosity in your face," he said, "you would pry into my business?" he laughed and opened his arm out to a chair as if to say 'do sit down'. He folded the paper up and placed it in his pack before continuing, "to whom do I have the pleasure?"

[Kitanna]

Kitanna came up the road and saw a familiar sight. Only once before had she been to The Green Dragon, but here she was again. She led her horse up the path and to the stables. When she was sure the animal was going to be taken care of properly, she undid her long black hair from it's braid and entered.

People bustled around the inn, chatting, eating, generally making merry. A soft smile passed over her lips. She decided to take a seat in a back corner and eat her breakfast alone.

Though food was the last thing on the young woman's mind. What Kitanna really wanted to do was rest her weary feet. She had slept on the roadside the night before and her body was aching. Then she had risen before dawn to gert an early start. It felt good to just sit. Kitanna stretched her long legs out under the table and sighed with relief.

Eadwyn came down from her room still groggy with sleep. Her aching stomach had awaken her, or else she would have slept the day away. She examined the main room with slow preciseness, making sure that there was no one who would know here before she would decide to committ to a seat.
Eadwyn noticed a person seated in the back all alone, stretched out. The woman had long black hair and was dressed in riding garb. She thought the figure looked familiar, and so a shot of fear ran up her spine. The hairs on her neck stood up as she frantically searched her mind, wondering if that person would know her. After a minute she was quite sure it was just a patron, and no one interested in who she was. Eadwyn made her way over to the patron anyway and stood next to her.

"Pardon me, but do you mind if I join you for breakfast? I have been here some time and have not yet met anyone to talk to. I should like to catch up on what's going on in the world."

[Hookbill the Goomba]

The small bird was squawking like crazy. Fáinu looked down for a moment and raised an eyebrow. How odd, he thought. Then a thought hit him, that bird was familiar, somehow. The elf cocked his head and then knelt down to see it more closely, it seemed to back away slightly. "Av-" he began, trying to remember the name, "Aval-" No that wasn't it... "Avalon!" he cried at last, and the bird seemed to nod.

"You're Cree's friend, no?" he said, and the bird nodded, "I see. You're probably wondering where she's got to." Avalon nodded, "Well, that is a long tale. It would take a while." The bird stayed intent. "Very well, I shall see what I can recall."

The Bird hopped on the window ledge and fluttered into the Inn, Fáinu sat down at a table and examined his mysteriously re-filled mug. There were several Hobbits looking at the Bird with curiosity and confusion, labelling Fáinu with their eyes as a madman. Or Elf.

[Glirdan]

“My goodness, yes. Or if I am not, there is nothing that can be done about it right now except hope to forget about my problems until something can be done. And you, Gróin, might do well to forget that there are problems at all. I think that you worry too much, though perhaps this is a habit you have gotten through long years of hardship. The night is fair and there is a party here. Enjoy yourself for once." Lily sat in thought and sighed. "It doesn’t really work that way, does it? For I am a worrier, too, and forgetting does not come easily. What I really need is someone with information… but someone who will not inform him that I am here. His traveling companion – or perhaps guardian – Marcho is sitting over there, but I believe that he would let promptly let him know I was here. And at this rate I will never find what I seek, because for it to work out I need help to fall into my lap. "Listen to me prattle on - all this worry to find out something that I have already found out. If what I have heard is true, then I have no business here. Perhaps I should not have come."

Gróin sat startled and looked at Lily kindly. "My dear, if you wouldn't have come, then we wouldn't have been able to have this, sad yes, but helpful talk. If know one else is happy that you are here, know this: I am. For I have made a friend. Thank you. So, do you want to dance?" and as he said this, he got up and held his hand out for Lily to take hold, totally forgetting his half eaten food. He looked around at the crowd of people dancing. Lily was right, it was time to put the past behind him...at least for now. It was time to enjoy himself while he might, forget the troubles of life while there was a party going. Who knows, he might even spend a little time at the Inn to meet more of the locals and visitors. "He looked at Lily again. "So, do you?"

[Hookbill the Goomba]

The memory of past things weighed heavy on the heart of Fáinu as he sat there in the Inn; drinking ale he thought he'd never taste again. Cree stared him in the eyes and all the more, the 'adventure' seemed closer than ever and full of the bitterness he could recall. The unusual beast had left its mark on the minds of all the travellers, Cree not the least.

Avalon seemed to dance upon the table, unnerved, sensing something more was to be said, almost impatient to hear the rest of the tale. "They were a terrible climb, the Grey Mountains," continued Fáinu, "Heartache awaited us, and we knew it well. Kili and Fundin talked endlessly of how they wished to see the Dragon's gold. They had always known the tales of Smaug the terrible and his horde, only hoping that they could have a share in what was in this Dragon's den.


"We girded ourselves and travelled along a stony path that wound around the mountain. The path was old and broken, we all had to take careful steps so not to risk tripping on lose rocks a paving. Kili had the most trouble in this area, as his feet were small and short, his beard got very dusty and he became irritated.
"Oh dash and blast it,” he cried throwing his pack on the floor, “can we not rest a little, we have been walking for nearly an hour.” I told him that we had to carry on, regardless of the terrible state of the path.
Soon we came to some nearly vertical steps. The wind howled around like a cruel bird, no offence Avalon, almost blowing us off at points. We dug into the stone with knives to stop from falling. Fundin and Kili were the only ones who had trouble climbing this; Elves can climb naturally, especially trees and mountains.

"Snow began to fall as we found ourselves higher than ever. At fist it was light and I at least found it bearable. Soon it became a blizzard; lumps of snow would crash into our faces and we would stumble around like blind mice in an earthquake. Cree, who took up the rear, often seemed to be wading in the snow as it got neck deep. I trudged through the snow covering my eyes with anything, my cloak proved the best for this. However this blocked my vision and I found myself on the edge of the path. So I moved inwards whenever I saw the edge, but still it was unnerving.

"We eventually came to a high peak that overlooked the lands north of the Grey Mountains. The Snow clouds were below us and we could not see anything, but there was a black cloud hovering, all too near to us. We found a cave and camped for the night, knowing that in the next few days, we would probably meet the Dragon and our fate. The cave was warm at least, but I not like that, the burns on the walls told us that the Dragon had been there. We found some bones on the floor.

"Kili looked and confirmed that they were Dwarves. He and Fundin buried the bones in the Dwarf manner, refusing to take any of the weapons that they had been found with. Even if they were made of Gold. 'A Dwarf will keep his treasure,' they said, 'even in death, we must honour that.'"

The mention of the bones had unnerved Cree, it was never pleasant to see death, but that had been the biggest reminder that they would very probably have died in the fight against the Dragon. Avalon seemed to have settled down and was sat eating some cram that Fáinu had given her. The cram the Dale men made was second to none.

"So we awoke the next morning," the Elf continued, "and found that they snow had cleared. But the cave entrance was blocked slightly by snow and fallen rock. It took us a while to move it, but Dwarves are hardy folk. We looked down, down into the Dragon Pit that lay before us. We could see a wide basin, black as cole, riddled with cracks and pits, all of which seemed to give out smog that melted the snow. We could see Orcs down there. There were even some Trolls." Avalon coughed and stood up again. "Yes, Trolls. But no Dragon. It was probably asleep, or pretending to be. We girded ourselves and made our way down towards it. The Dwarves said there would probably be a day’s march before we got there. That was little comfort.

"As we marched, a loud roar was heard, like a hurricane filled with fire. A Bright flame leaped up into the air. I flung myself on the ground, as the burn on m hand seemed to grow in agony. Then we saw it..."

[Hookbill the Goomba]

"As we marched," Fáinu said, "a loud roar was heard, like a hurricane filled with fire. A Bright flame leaped up into the air. I flung myself on the ground, as the burn on m hand seemed to grow in agony. Then we saw it..."

The elf closed his eyes and placed one hand over his face, the memory was too clear, the sound still rung in his ear. That creature had been his bane and his blessing, but the tale was still too painful for him to fully recall in its entirety. Cree sighed as she too recalled the painful call of the Dragon as it flew overhead, its black wings spread apart like thunderclouds.

"I-" stuttered Fáinu, "I remember little else of what happened after that. We saw it fly over and my hand burned like the fires of a Balrog, I could have sworn that I saw the bandage burst into flame. I threw myself to the ground and covered my ears. It was due to some quick thinking on the part of Killi that saved us, for seeing my anguish; he firmly placed a hand over my mouth, as I was about to cry out.

"Fundin, the older of the two, dragged us all into a small cave and watched as the beast flew over and over. I think it knew we were there, that creature must have brought news back to it." Fáinu thumped the table with his fist; "so much could have been achieved otherwise." he sighed and drained his mug. "We waited till the monster returned to its hiding place before we moved again and my wound hurt less. Cree seemed strangely calm about the situation, yet ever; her hand was at her sword hilt.

"The day passed without another sound from the Dragon, yet still forth from the pit came black smog. We saw that it was beginning to descend and would soon fill all the valleys in the area, Fundin and Killi were little worried, Dwarves, after all, like the dark: 'Dark, for dark business' as Kilo often said. The land was becoming more treacherous, where the Dragon had obviously had some battles, sword remnants were scattered around and blood stained much of the rock. As we walked under twilight, we heard movement in the rocks above us, Cree saw, with here keen eyes, two figures stooping from a ledge. 'Goblins', she whispered to me. As swift as we could, we all drew our weapons and stood back to back.

"After hearing some screeches and laughter, there appeared two Goblins coming up the stairs and three more coming down from the rocks above. They came onto the ledge and laughed in their horrible voices that seemed to make our bones shiver. Cree and I backed up against a wall that was to the right of them and pointed our swords towards the Goblins. Killi and Fundin stood before us, axes in hand.

"'What have we here?' snarled the largest one who seemed to be the chief, 'some elves, and beads.' He spat at the Dwarves and laughed.

"'Looks that way chief,' said one of the other Goblins, 'shall we cut ‘em up for the dogs?'

"'Not yet, Malgrot!' cried the chief, 'We’ll have a bit of fun with them first!'

"'What do you want?” asked Fundin, 'We have done you no harm!'

"'Shut up!' cried Malgrot, 'I’ll stick a hole in your belly, Beard!'

"'Shut your mouth Malgrot!' cried the chief, 'Gelrop, Mogrol, take them to the dungeons! The boss will fry 'em up nice.'

"'Aye chief!' said Mogrol as he advanced upon us followed by his companion with filthy blades pointed towards the Dwarves. I struck first, with my sword, disarming Mogrol with relative ease, and then Fundin leapt up into the air before landing behind Gelrop and cutting off his arm.

"The two Goblins looked dumbfounded at their chief and Gelrop began to cry out in pain. Mogrol backed away as he saw blood drip off my blade and Cree pointing her sharp sword towards his neck.

"'You filthy maggots!' cried the chief, 'Lipnot, Malgrot, kill them!' the next two Goblins tried their luck and failed in a similar manor, but I refrained from removing limbs this time. The chief growled and howled as he drew a long and dirty blade from its scabbard and advanced towards us.

"'Stay back!' commanded Cree, 'I do not wish to slay thee, but if you force us into combat we will not be held responsible for you being marred.'

"'I shall slay you,' bellowed the chief; you filthy rats! Bring your little face to my blade.' Killi and Fundin swung their axes with grace as they had long been trained to in the peace of the world. Without too much trouble they managed to bring the chief to his knees.

"'Flee if you value your foul skin!' cried Cree as she held her blade to the Goblin’s neck, 'take your men and never assail any again!' the Goblins took flight with limping steps. But before they got too far, they all fell with arrows in their backs."

[Nurumaiel]

Posco and Blanco sat rather uneasily together in the quiet Common Room. Blanco was pacing restlessly back and forth, while Posco watched him miserably from their table. It was obvious that Blanco was waiting for something... watching for something, that is, for he kept pausing at the window and peering out.

And suddenly Blanco gave a start. He saw Posco look up at him sharply, and he put on a casual smile that was very unconvincing. "I don't know why we're hanging about here doing nothing," he said. "I do believe I'll go out and dance. There are plenty of lovely hobbit lassies out there, Posco." There was a slight hesitation before he spoke again. "Why don't you come along with me?"

Because Blanco didn't want him to. That was one reason, but Posco didn't consider it a good one. What exactly had Blanco seen out there? He stood up and made his way to the window, but Blanco make a quick leap for the door. "I'll be out there if you want to come," he said quickly, and scampered outdoors.

Posco, watching from the window, could see him working his way through the merry crowds towards a table in the shadows. He lost him to view then, but he had no doubt of why Blanco had so suddenly left. It was to dance with the lassies, for hadn't he just passed them all by? No doubt he'd seen Lily. The eager look in his face could not be mistaken, despite his attempts to hide it. Posco sat down heavily by the window. He didn't have the courage to go chasing after Blanco and stop him from speaking with Lily. So he simply felt miserable.

Blanco basked in the lights as he worked his way slowly towards the table where Lily sat, doing his best not to jostle anyone but pausing to excuse himself when he did. Once or twice he looked over his shoulder, and saw to his satisfaction that Posco was not following him. The poor fellow was so distracted thinking about Lily that he hadn't realised why Blanco had left. Ah well, all the better for him.

There was a slight break in the dancers, and he took advantage of it, twisting and turning until he stood in the shadows. Yet he felt that all the lights were still upon him, for he felt a warmth spread all over them. There was Lily, looking up at him with her sweet little face, just as lovely as she had been the first time he met her. Though, was he only imagining it, but was she rather pale? He wondered briefly whether it was on account of Posco, and some of the warmth left. But he resolutely shoved that thought aside and approached the table. He was here, not Posco. He'd been given the first chance.

Smiling, he took her hand and shook it heartily. "Lily, how wonderful to see you!" he said, sitting down at her gesture, and observing nervously as he did so that her smile to him was slightly strained. "You gave me quite a start, appearing in that window like some phantom of the past. And..." He paused a moment, wondering if it was wise to bring up her worries, when they could very well be about Posco. But if that was what she wanted, it would come sooner or later.

"And I rather got the impression you wanted to talk to me," he said.

[Hookbill the Goomba]

"Ah, don't mind me," said Fáinu, lifting his head. He seemed to smile; yet Cree felt a foreboding, almost like a heavy weight that kept her in her seat. Fáinu's face was cheerful, almost, yet she saw behind his smile, deep fear and regret.

"I must go now," he said, "Dwaline's house is near by. I will go there. Then I need to rest." he sighed, "yes... to rest." he got up and drained his mug. Cree grabbed his arm, but said nothing. "Worry not," said Fáinu, "Things will look better in the morning." Avalon the crow cocked her head and squawked as the Elf walked out of the inn, singing a little song in old quenya.

[piosenniel]

Closing the doors on The Green Dragon Inn

The Green Dragon Inn opened in November of 2002, under the guidance of Dwarin Thunderhammer. Since then it has undergone eleven incarnations and boasts well over 7,000 posts. In April of 2003, The Green Dragon Inn Part 3, a new Innkeeper was introduced, Amanaduial the archer.

It has been an interesting and enjoyable four years, reading the posts of those who first cut their RPG-teeth, so to speak, in The Green Dragon. Hobbits, Elves, Dwarves, Men, Wargs, Orcs, and even a Balrog have passed through the Inn’s doors.

Now those doors are going to close on this last incarnation of The Green Dragon.

A new Innkeeper, Folwren, will offer the hospitality of a new inn – The Golden Perch in Stock, Eastfarthing, the Shire.

> - - - < ~*~ > - - - <

The Green Dragon will remain open until the end of this June. Please wrap up any storylines you have in progress (or perhaps think about working them into an independent RPG proposal along with your co-writers).

The Golden Perch Inn will be open on June 1st to take on players.

Its timeline will be much earlier than that of the present Green Dragon Inn. There will be a Discussion Thread to accompany the new inn. And each writer for the Golden Perch will need to submit a brief Character Description form to the Discussion Thread when they make their first post to the Inn thread

Please do give a look at the Discussion Thread for the new Inn. And think about designing a new character to come in and take part in the storyline when it opens.

[Celuien]

"...And at the close of day 'tis sweet
To drink sweet brew and rest our feet."

Robin's song came to an end. Scattered cheers and applause greeted his performance, and after a quick bow, the hobbit hopped off the stage. The song was one of his own invention, and he was abashed by the attention. In his usual mood, Robin would never have dared to sing in front of such a large crowd - much less with lyrics he composed. He was astonished at the combined effects of good cheer and Fordogrim's brew on his willingness to be the center of attention. Most pleasantly astonished. It seemed that his talents were appreciated, and he would never have known without the party.

But the hour grew late, and the best of parties could not change that Robin had work to do in the morning. There were weeds to pull, fields to tend, and he had planting to finish. With a sigh, he called his farewells to the lingering revelers and stepped out of the Inn yard. Whistling a little tune - the same he sang at the party - he strolled down the road and headed for home.

[JennyHallu]

Lossë sat back hard against the seat of the booth, an irritable expression on her dainty face. "Shameful?" What is it with all these prudes here? "It isn't shameful at all. It's skill and cunning makes me a good thief, and if foolishness and carelessness make a man a good mark, why should I pass up the opportunity to teach him his error!"

The man looked at her in surprise a moment, seeming to battle some inner amusement, which only further riled young Lossë. "And I'm no beggar, and shan't ask for anything I can get for myself," she said firmly, completely unaware of the oddities of her particular moral code.

[Dairym]

Heather frowned, thinking over Ravennar's words. She slipped her hand into her pocket and fingered her treasured stone. The crystal’s cool hardness, a solid testament to memories past, reassured her. It had stood the test of time and forgetfulness.

“But we have our songs and tales; surely they will not be forgotten. As long as mothers and fathers tell their children, and those children tell their children, it will be remembered again and again. As long as there is truth in the world it will be remembered.” She blushed a little at this long speech, adding, “It’s what my mother taught me, with all the stories of her people.”

[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) - AWAY AT PRESENT

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

Meri - Stablemaster

Tim Woodlock - Stableboy; Wren - his younger sister: humans, originally from Breeland (characters played by Folwren)

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

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


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TIME OF DAY

It is now a fair night in the Shire; the stars are out.

There is a large party in the Inn's front yard - tables are loaded with food, desserts, drinks. Several barrels of ale have been tapped, compliments of one of the Hobbit brewmasters.

There are tables and benches scattered over the front lawn. Twinkling little lanterns hang from the trees. To one side of the verandah there is a little stage set up for the musicians and a large area cleared for dancing.

[piosenniel]

Closing the doors on The Green Dragon Inn

The Green Dragon Inn opened in November of 2002, under the guidance of Dwarin Thunderhammer. Since then it has undergone eleven incarnations and boasts well over 7,000 posts. In April of 2003, The Green Dragon Inn Part 3, a new Innkeeper was introduced, Amanaduial the archer.

It has been an interesting and enjoyable four years, reading the posts of those who first cut their RPG-teeth, so to speak, in The Green Dragon. Hobbits, Elves, Dwarves, Men, Wargs, Orcs, and even a Balrog have passed through the Inn’s doors.

Now those doors are going to close on this last incarnation of The Green Dragon.

A new Innkeeper, Folwren, will offer the hospitality of a new inn – The Golden Perch in Stock, Eastfarthing, the Shire.

> - - - < ~*~ > - - - <

The Golden Perch Inn is now open for posting..

Its timeline will be much earlier than that of the present Green Dragon Inn. There will be a Discussion Thread to accompany the new inn. And each writer for the Golden Perch will need to submit a brief Character Description form to the Discussion Thread when they make their first post to the Inn thread

Please do give a look at the Discussion Thread for the new Inn. And think about designing a new character to come in and take part in the storyline when it opens.

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If everyone is done posting to the Inn, I would like to close it at the end of next week - Saturday, June 24.

~*~ Pio