The Forsaken Inn

[Nurvingiel]

OOC: Sorry for ignoring your character LCOU, I've been away for a while.

Nurvingiel was normally shy around strangers, but at the appearance of the energetic dwarf, she found herself tounge-tied. At her shy silence, the dwarf politely excused himself to arrange for a room.
Nurvingiel was shy, but she not unkind. She felt bad for being rude to the dwarf, so she decided to seek him out. Taking her ale with her, she got up to look for the dwarf. She wouldn't be much use to him though - she had just come from the South and had no news for him. It had been quite a while since she had been to Eriabor (where she had aquired a taste for ale).

[Last Child of Ungoliant]

ooc: i not been posting anyway on accounts of computer death!

ic: Galiforn the Dwarf suddenly aroused from his 2 month sleep, and walked down the hallway toward the common room, where he bumped into nurvingiel. "hello again nurvingiel, how are you today?" he enquired

[Nurvingiel]

OOC: lol Chrys!

"Oh, hi there. I was just looking for you," said Nurvingiel. "How did you know my name? I don't believe we were introduced."

[Last Child of Ungoliant]

"I know many things," he replied with a mischievous smile
"For I am old, old even as the elves reckon time, do not
look with your eyes only, for many things are lost to the sight!"
[narrator's voice!]this was the usual way that Galiforn spoke, talking without saying anything, and yet saying everything at the same time.[/narrator's voice]

[Nurvingiel]

Nurvingiel was puzzled by Galiforn's hints at his age. Dwarves led long lives for mortals, but even she, a young elf, was much older than any Dwarf. "But are you not a Dwarf master Galiforn? I did learn a delicious habit from Dwarves," she said, taking a sip of her ale, "But surely you did not learn immortality from Elves." Galiforn and Nurvingiel made their way back to the fire.

[Haradrim]

A man walked downstairs. He had come awake at the sounds of the guests downstairs. He was glad he had been woken up. He prefered the night. HE flet comfortable in it. He threw several coins onto the bar and asked for a round for everyone. He said in a loud booming voice, "Hello everyone I hope I havent missed much." He strode over to a table which ahd what seemed to be a dwarf and an elf. He walked over and sat down. "So who's turn is it?" he asked with a big grin on his face. "The name is Erestor Erkenband." He took a big gulp from his mug.

[-elfearz-]

Originally Posted by Haradrim

He strode over to a table which ahd what seemed to be a dwarf and an elf.

ooc - are you talking about us haradrim? coz mirilya is actually an elf as well, not a dwarf, but I just read back what i wrote, and, yeah, it's not all that clear *oops*

[Nurvingiel]

Originally Posted by -elfearz-

ooc - are you talking about us haradrim? coz mirilya is actually an elf as well, not a dwarf, but I just read back what i wrote, and, yeah, it's not all that clear *oops*

OOC: I knew you were an elf. As my character is also an elf, maybe we just felt a kinship. Yea! Activity in the thread again! Valandil would be proud... if he were here!

[Haradrim]

oops yeah sorry meant elf and elf. HEHEHE. Woops!

[Valandil]

Originally Posted by Nurvingiel

...Valandil would be proud... if he were here!

I am... and I AM!

Will try to work in some posties soon... but the rest of you are doing just fine!

[Last Child of Ungoliant]

"Am I not a dwarf, indeed!" replied Galiforn,
with a sly grin, "Come, let us adjourn to the common
room, where we will talk further! Perhaps your ale
glass needs refilling, I know mine does!"

[Meriadoc Brandybuck]

Character: Gilly
Race: Hobbit
Hair: Brown
Eyes: Green
Hieght: 3'2"
Age: 26
Discription: A resident of Bree, this hobbit often visits the Forsaken Inn.

[-elfearz-]

ooc: ooh! mind if i join? (ok..um..*has never done this before*, so please correct me if i do something wrong )

Mirilya slipped lithley from Tyelka's back and paused a moment as her feet remembered the touch of ground and her nose savoured the aroma of roasting potatoes. It had been a long ride, but the inn before her seemed homely and comfortable.

It will be good to lie in a bed again, she thought, a smile touching her lips fleetingly. Like all elves, she felt a close affinity with nature, but after countless nights under starlight, she yearned for a roof above her head, and feather pillows beneath it.

Urged by her gnawing stomach, she fastened Tyelka to a post and started toward the inn, but slowed to a halt as a thought clouded her mind. Hesitating, she drew a long, slender knife from its sheath at her hip, and raised the blade to her face.

A distorted, ghosted image of her face stared back at her, reflected in the moonlit steel. Her ebony curls, limp with perspiration framed her cheeks, covering her leaf-shaped ears, but thinking it best to be safe, Mirilya drew the hood of her grey travelling cloak over her head. It was not that elves were unwelcome generally, but murmurings of sorcery and 'elf-magic' made some mortal folk uneasy..

With the grey cloth shrouding her face, she looked human enough, if a little thin. Mirilya was slender, even by elven standards, and weeks of hard riding and living off the land had left her looking a little ghostly. Reflected in her knife, her high cheekbones were even more pronounced, the soft cheeks below them a little sunken. Her blue-green eyes, however, sparkled with life. Mirilya was extremely young - not yet old even by mortal standards, and in the twilight of elven childhood. Her features had not yet acquired the even, luminescent agelessness that characterised older elves. The thrill of life still sapped through her veins...

Mirilya's sharp ears heard the door of the inn creak open, and she quickly sheathed the knife as a well-fed stableboy trotted up to her.

'How may I help you miss?'

She smiled, instructed him to feed and stable Tyelka and tipped him generously, then remembering how famished she was, headed for the inn.

A thick cloud of ale and tobacco stung her eyes as she pushed open the door. Unnoticed, she surveyed the crowd. They were a mixed bunch, and seemed jovial. A chubby maid flitted smilingly amongst the patrons with a tray of ale, while the stocky bartender bustled around, barking orders. In a corner, a sturdy dwarf was engaged in deep conversation with a brown-haired woman. The woman was statuesque and obviously elven, and did not appear to be drawing any suspicious looks.

Pushing back her hood, Mirilya approached the bar, sinking into a stool. The bartender noticed her immediately, and bustled over, beaming at her.
'What can I do y'for lass?'
'Two hot dinners and a glass of wine, thank you', she replied, shaking her hair off of her face. 'And a room for the night, if you have one'.

*

um..ok..that was, long..oops

[-elfearz-]

Mirilya smiled charmingly as she greeted Erkenbrand, but fleetingly exchanged glances with Nurvingiel, wondering if the older elf knew any more about humans than she did. "From where do you hail, sir, and what brings you to these parts?", she asked, to make conversation.
The name Erkenbrand sounded Rohirric, Mirilya realised, her leaf-shaped ears suddenly feeling pointier and more exposed. She had had some dealings with the people of Rohan, and had found them homely, warm, earthy and hospitable, but somewhat suspicious of elves. She had never admitted her heritage whilst in those parts, having heard many murmurings in towns and taverns about the Lady in the Golden Wood and her webs of sorcery. Muttering a complaint about the cold, she hastily drew her hood over her face.

Through the corner of her eye, Mirilya noticed Galiforn draining a mug of ale and conversing with a cloaked figure in a shadowy corner of the room. "Funny, that", she thought. "I never saw him come back inside"...

[Last Child of Ungoliant]

Galiforn realised that he had sat down at the wrong table when he came back,
'sorry devak, is it?' he said
'i must depart!' and he then walked over to the table where nurvingiel
and another elf were sat talking to a man

[Nurvingiel]

Nurvingiel guessed why Mirilya put her hood on inside, and didn't blame the young elf. She personally made it a policy to never hide her elvishness, and this had gotten her into trouble more than once. However, despite the forbidding name, Nurvingiel suspected that patrons here didn't really care what race you were. Erkenbrand didn't seem unfriendly toward elves, but Nurvingiel had been wrong about people before. She noticed he had a different accent than other people in the pub, but couldn't place it.

[Haradrim]

"Well the names Erkenbrand, as I have just stated. I am of the Rohirrim. I am not an outcast persay but I never felt like I belonged with my people. They all just seemed like outsiders to me. SO I decided to move up this way. I heard there was a strange assortment of people. Dont worry my elf friends I dont care what race you are as long as your a good story teller." One elf, Mirilya he thought, looked taken aback. He had never had problem identifying them. THey were generally fairer of voice, and they walked with a light step. He never found it too hard. Except for that one elf. He chuckled. "So my friends. Where do we all hail from?"

[Nurvingiel]

"I'm from Mirkwood forest," said Nurvingiel. "That's on the east side of the Misty Mountains," she added, not knowing how much Erkenbrand knew about that part of the world.

[Telcontar_Dunedain]

OOC:

Originally Posted by Valandil

This is set at 'The Forsaken Inn' in Eriador - a day's travel east of Bree, starting in April of the year 2904 of the Third Age (and time will progress as in 'our' world - +1000 years and in the 3rd Age). To let you know what this means:

[The Dread Pirate Roberts]

The Dread Pirate Roberts walks in, ready to party like it's 2909!

"How's the ale in this place?" he asks.