The Forsaken Inn

[Acalewia]

OOC: Is this rp still going or did it die?

[Valandil]

OOC reply: this is just a place - and can support any number of stories. It's a 'come-and-go-as-you-please' arrangement - and is now 2911, Third Age.

Whoever from then is here - is here.

[Voronwen]

I'd like to do this. But first, if everyone would suffer another crazy post on the Yule thread, there's something i need to do....

[Torongil]

I really think this is awesome... It MUST continue!

[Snowdog]

OOC: I tried to get it going again but nobody took the que, or I'm just a crappy writer. After several weeks I quit checking. I see it still hasn't gone anywhere. Hopefully it will again.

[Snowdog]

It had been years since Durian had ridden up the great road toward Bree. He had been watching from Amon Sul for months and hoped to find other Dunedain in Bree as he ventured toward that town to rest and re-supply.

The old Inn looked deserted as he rode up to the door. The rain fell steadily, and the wind made the weather-worn sign swing awkwardly from one of its two hooks. The other had rusted and broke. Durian dismounted and gave his horse a pat as he stepped on the porch. He reached up and stopped the sign from moving as he tried to read the weather-worn words. The Inn was all he could make out of it. He turned to the large oak doors. One was ajar just enough to be able to squeeze inside. The hinges were rusty, but with a bit of a push, the door squeaked closed.

Inside was dusty, as if it was simply abandoned by the proprietor. He walked over to the bar and looked at the dust. He could hear the water dripping onto the old well-worn wood floor near the fireplace, and so he pulled his flint out and used his knife to kindle some old shavings that were left in a kindling box, then once a flame was had, he lit a candle that was laying there on his side. The dim light flickered to life and he considered lighting some of the other candles that either stood or were knocked over on the tables. He used the now-burning kindling box to light a fire in the hearth to take the damp chill away from the place. There was still wood piled nearby, and even though some was dry rotted, it worked to get the flames to grow. Yes, he would stay here, at least until the rain passed.

Once the fire was burning hard, he set few small logs to cover it before he went outside to tend to his horse. He led her around back to the decrepit stable. Checking the beams, Durian deemed it safe enough for her to shelter in, for the rain was not going to let up any time soon. She settled into the old hay and he gave her a brush to allow the water to wash her some.

”I will be back soon missy.”

He said as he gave her some oats from his satchel. He checked his meagre supplies and knew he needed to get to Bree and re-supply. Maybe tomorrow, after the rain stops. Durian walked back into the inn by the back door to the kitchen and went in where the fire he had made was working on warming the place. He sat down by it and stared the flickering flames.

The constant drip of the rain leaking in echoed through the otherwise quiet empty inn and Durian moved a chair so he could put his feet on the hearth and he leaned back against the beam by the wall. The old oak whispered to him, hinting at many stories the inn had to tell … a table of Arnorian soldiers arguing over the impending division of Arnor, to rowdy drinking and quiet gatherings of Dunedain Rangers… couple talking as relationships were made and couples arguing as relationships were broken… whispers of plans and plots of good and ill, to death and blood, to intense love and deep feelings.

Durian could hear the whispers in his head, and he turned and slowly reached for the oak beam. A vision flashed in his mind when he set his hand on it. A fair maiden moving about the wood, her long raven hair swaying and wrapping about her shoulders. She turned and looked at him and smiled... Durian let go of the beam and blinked his eyes. He had a hard time gaining his breath and he set back up in the chair, putting his feet back on the floor. He felt strange, and though it was only a moment, it seared itself into him. He again stood and stepped over to the beam where he saw a slight glow. There on the beam was carved finely as if an Elven craftsman had worked it, a heart with the names Halrohir and Lonannuniel. His fingers came up to it but hesitated. He touched the name Halrohir and saw a brief vision of a handsome Dunedain ranger. When he moved his finger to the name Lonannuniel, a beautiful Elf maiden flashed in his mind. But she was not the same as the elf maiden he had seen earlier. When he placed his finger on the heart, he saw the two people very much in love and getting married. He retreated his hand from it and could see the glow where he had touched it had faded some.

He stared at it for a time until a loud pop from one of the logs on the fire broke his thoughts. An orange ember shot out and it bounced across the floor. Durian quickly stepped over and ground it out with his boot, kicking the hot remains into the puddle of water from the leaking roof. With his movement away from the beam, the visions faded in intensity in his mind and only became a vague memory. He decided to rummage around behind the bar to see if there was anything drinkable. There were a few bottles of wine still sealed, and a firkin of ale that seemed to have not leaked. He pounded the tap into it and tried some of it. A heavy black stout! It was smooth and very well aged. Happy that it hadn’t gone rancid from seepage, he looked for a tankard to fill. Durian found a clay one that was not broken, still sitting upside down on the shelf at the back of the bar. He opened the tap he had used on the firkin and filled the mug.

"This will do nicely."

he said to himself before walking back over by the fire. He sat on the hearth and leaned his back against the stones to the side of the fire. Sipping his ale, he sat and watched the steam rise from the leg of his wet breeches and listened to the rain on the roof as it intensified. Along with the heavier rain, the leaks in the roof dripped harder and faster and Durian lost himself as he sipped his ale, listening to the sounds of the rain and fire. He was aware that the smoke from the chimney would draw any others who happened to be passing by, so he stayed aware of the sounds as he daydreamed…