At The Forsaken Inn...

Pull out your pack and head on down to the Prancing Pony for some great Role Playing (try to stay in character)!

Postby Snowdog » Tue Jul 16, 2002 9:14 pm

Snowdog got another ale for undumiel and also one for himself.<BR>He watched her sip it, and silently they enjoyed the beverage. Finally he said to her,<BR><BR><i>'Maybe we should see the tradesman and gain a balde for the wilds?'</i><BR><BR>He sipped his ale, watching the lady.
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Postby Oliphaunt » Wed Jul 17, 2002 7:05 pm

(ooc: Sorry- two vacations, work, and a bad case of lethargy have held me back. My most abject apologies. BTW Elora...which woman are you referring to here "and nodded pleasantly at the woman that had accompanied him."?)<BR><BR>The smith and his customer dove into another ten minutes of intense technical discussion, weighing, remeasuring, heating, tapping, and twisting the blade until it met her exacting specifications. Once it had been tempererd several ties and sharpened to a fine edge, the smith wiped it with a fine sheen of oil, resheathed it gently placed it on the table inbetween them. "There you are, Ms....erm...there you are, miss. And the best work I've done im a while, I might add." Catching the hooded stranger eyeing him, he turned and gave a wild grin.
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Postby elora » Wed Jul 17, 2002 7:51 pm

<BR><i>Elora remained silent on the "Miss", smiling to cover her hesitation, and took up the newly worked dagger. Turning it about, watching how the light of the day flickered over the steel, sensing it's weight in her hand, the feel and presence of the weapon, she began to smile in appreciation that grew the longer she held the dagger. She set it down, and retrieved 10 silver pieces from the pouch at her belt, warm smile still curving her lips as she placed the silver in front of the smith. There was the faintest of hint of colour turning beind Elora's masked violet gaze, but it faded in a shimmering glimpse.</i><BR><BR>Well done indeed, good smith. I've not seen work like this for quite some time. <BR><BR>There is a sad lack of mastery of such arts in recent times, or so it seems to me. Naiore, I am named and I shall be sure to send others to you such as I find them.<BR><BR>Do you have a particular route or location you base yourself in, or do you wander aimlessly like I do?<BR><BR><i>Kevin had worked hard and true, and Elora waved another two beers over, pausing to survey again the woman and her companion. No hint of recognition in his face for her, which was encouraging indeed. Her departure from her normal manner seemed to foil identification. She was pleased to have been able to understand enough of Children to know what it was that symbolised Guardian to them. Leather danceskin, fierce swords, a heavy braid and swirling multi-hued eyes. None of those were present in her appearance now. The tankards delivered, Elora pushed one towards the smith.</i><BR><BR>For a job well done. Your blades will prove trustworthy and true, I deem Master Smith, and my life may well rest upon them if adventure continues to find me as I hope it will. That is surely worth an ale, and likely more.<BR><BR><i>She arched one brow in amusement at him, a finger falling to trace the symmetry of the dagger haft and blade as her other hand wrapped around the tankard.</i><BR><BR>May you enjoy both ale and silver. Perhaps I should leave you free to deal with other customers.<BR><BR><i>Upon her words, the daggers were stowed where she thought best. One went down her bodice and the other was tucked into a boot top. She could adjust them later. She looked at Kevin in askance once more, inquiring,</i><BR><BR>Where would others be able to find you, should I find others also in need of your fine work?<BR><BR><i>Her reasons for asking were twofold. Firstly, master smiths were rare and valuable craftspeople. She had allies that would dearly need his assistance. Secondly, Elora found few smiths seemed to appreciate the complexity of the relationship between weapon and user. Such smiths were prized beyond any value by Weapons Dancers. She would call again, for there would always be another time she would need his expertise to aid her. It had taken her months to find the correct daggers, and last time she had replaced a long-sword it had taken her years to find a replacement. And besides all that, Kevin had an affable charm that Elora found endearing. She was keen to see the smith do as well as he deserved.</i><BR><BR>
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Postby Oliphaunt » Thu Jul 18, 2002 9:17 am

With a rapid sweep of the hand the smith gathered the coins and they disappeared from sight. Raising his tankard in salute of her, he let loose a wry smile that was half-wince at the southerner's typical garbling of his name...gods, how he desired to be home! Home, where they knew how to make a proper mug of bitter, where the pipes of the Sentries could be heard in every valley during Sunset, and where the snows made these pitiful winters seem like balmy spring eventides. <BR> <BR>"Your effusive praise is most generous, milady Naiore. I travel where I will." He punctuated this with a sweeping gesture of the mug, then took a swig and continued. "I hold to no schedule or itinerary. I am afraid I cannot tell you where either of my homes lie, as one who is absent for so long must trust to secrecy as his main guard. My apologies...perhaps, however, you might give me the names of those you have in mind; I move much more rapidly than you might think."<BR>Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the ranger's compatriot unhood him..no, herself! He began to turn for a better view until he caught himself, reestablishing eye contact with his wealthy purchaser.
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Postby Oliphaunt » Thu Jul 18, 2002 9:24 am

(OOC: I don't really know what the nature of our RP is going to be, but as my character has somewhat of a strong self-first mentality, it would be easiest for him to join if he was caught up in an attack on one of you three- sort of a personal affront in need of vengeance if Ceilhim is wounded, you see? The culture from which he comes has a rigorous social system of personal honor and coup, so maybe at some point in the near future we could determine where we wanna take this, so as to give my char a vested interest in helping you? Wow, this is much longer and bossy than I was hoping it to be<img src="http://www.tolkienonline.com/mb/i/expressions/face-icon-small-tongue.gif"border=0>...my apologies)
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Postby elora » Thu Jul 18, 2002 5:34 pm

(OOC: A pox upon me for being a clumsy oaf! Perhaps the insult could be Elora's grave mishandling of Ceilhim's name? My sincere apologies. I too have no idea of the nature of the RP , and am in fact barely involved. Your idea though to my uninformed opinion seems sound Oliphant concerning your character. Elora, being neither elven nor mortal, has a propensity to insult Illuvator's Children through misunderstanding. <BR><BR>But I do not know if she could come up with one grave enough to prompt an attack by Ceilhim in restitution of his besmirched honour. Perhaps, if there is a point that he is prickly about I could target that. If you like, feel free to drop me a line on elora_starsong@hotmail.com to discuss it further. Oh, and I was referring to Undomiel in my earlier post. <img src="http://www.tolkienonline.com/mb/i/expressions/face-icon-small-smile.gif"border=0>)<BR><BR><i>Elora smiled to herself at the smith's reaction to the uncloaking of Snowdog's companion. She was a beautiful woman indeed, and naturally would draw the eye of those men fortunate enough to glimpse her. Likely the thread of any conversation was lost now, but Elora persisted for what it was worth.</i><BR><BR>Ah, names I cannot give at this time, Master Smith, though I would dearly like to. My allies tend to value their names highly. But I shall speak of you, describe you as best I can and perhaps they can search you out.<BR><BR>Now, I really have taken up much more of your time than is warranted. May your stay at this inn prove as prosperous as you hope for.<BR><BR>I bid you good day, Master Smith.<BR><BR><i>She had not missed the wince at her last attempts at his name and so she instead relied upon propriety in order to avoid adding further insult. She rose from her chair, unfolding her considerable height, smiled down at Ceilhim once more before turning away to return her tankard to the bar. There she remained, negotiating accommodation further. She had left her current arrangements rather tenuous when first she arrived at the inn. Once she knew that it would be possible to remain another night should she wish, Elora decided that it was more than time to see what the sky and clouds were doing. She was still very much at a loss as to what she was supposed to be doing here. She had shown up, as requested, leaving husband and daughter behind. Curious things were afoot, such as a master craftsman, Snowdog and his beautiful companion all showing up at such a remote place.<BR><BR>But still none of that explained where her role lay as Guardian of Arda. Noone seemed to be in trouble. Perhaps trouble was brewing. A little unsettled, more by the lack of foreboding than anything untowards, Elora headed outside. She occupied herself with a check of the perimeter of the inn, and found nothing of particular note. A quick look over each shoulder told her that she was alone, and so Elora stood at the back at the inn and gazed heavenwards. There was no word waiting for her, and a look of exasperated impatience flew over her features. To noone in particular, she muttered,</i><BR><BR>Fine, I'll just sit around then. Not even a dicing game on the go. Not as if I have anything better I could be doing with my time.<BR><BR><i>No response even to that came, and she sighed before looking back at the inn. Racing up the back stairs to her room, she brought forth one of her hidden longswords and returned outside. Soon, Elora was lost in smooth forms and sequences, occupying muscles and limbs as she weapons danced her sword about the empty space as her mind leapt through the information, scarce as it was, that she had to hand. Perhaps the night would prove more informative. She wondered, then, if the smith was fond of dicing at all and a strategy started to evolve in the Guardian's mind.</i><BR>
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Postby Oliphaunt » Fri Jul 19, 2002 9:50 am

(ooc: No insult, as such, is being taken by my char; just one more little annoying thing about being in the southlands. What would give him cause to join you is if he accidentally got in between one of the three of you and someone who would be attacking said person (take your pick- I suppose you'll each have quite a few enemies...) and then he was forced to fight on his (and maybe some innocent's) behalf....? Tell me what you think- and I'm gonna make an ooc thread and cut and paste all our comments into it)
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Postby Oliphaunt » Fri Jul 19, 2002 7:50 pm

The woman took her leave and stood from the table, taking her dagger and several pairs of eyes with her into the shadowy recesses of the inn. Cleaning up charcoal dust and other bits and scraps of his trade, the smith began readying the thin bands of metal which would be soldered into the sconces. He began whistling to himself, content with his success and generous fee.
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Postby undumiel » Fri Jul 19, 2002 8:05 pm

<i>(ooc: nothing to see here . . .)</i>
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Postby undumiel » Fri Jul 19, 2002 8:06 pm

<i>(ooc: or here . . . <img src="http://www.tolkienonline.com/mb/i/expressions/face-icon-small-blush.gif"border=0><img src="http://www.tolkienonline.com/mb/i/expressions/face-icon-small-blush.gif"border=0><img src="http://www.tolkienonline.com/mb/i/expressions/face-icon-small-blush.gif"border=0>)</i>
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Postby undumiel » Fri Jul 19, 2002 8:06 pm

Undumiel saw the grin thrown her by the smith, but coldly blew it off - not so much because she disapproved, but mainly because it unnerved her, and she disliked demonstrating that to a stranger. She was onto her third ale by the time the smith finished his conversation with the lovely violet-eyed woman for whom he had made the blade. It was genuinely an excellent one, and she would dearly have loved to commission him, but she was loathe to spend her money. The ale, however, was taking effect, and the warmth in her blood gave her confidence enough to want some sport. <BR><BR>Leaning across the table, Undumiel said, <i>Could I interest you in a game of chance? We shall keep the stakes low, for I am loathe to take money from one who has been so kind to me, and equally loathe to lose my purse.</i><BR><BR>Snowdog assented, and Undumiel glanced in the direction of the smith. Smiling, she said, <i>You may join us, good smith, if you are willing for sport. I do not wish to see you dine alone.</i> Calling over to the bar, she added, <i>Good bartender! I would be joyed for more of your fine ale for myself and the good smith.</i> She flung her black hair out behind her and smiled. Winning a new blade would feel good.<BR><BR>
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Postby Oliphaunt » Fri Jul 19, 2002 11:02 pm

Looking up from his work as the couple passed, Ceilhim considered the offer before laying down his tools. GLancing around the half-empty innroom, he decided that no more customers were to be found among this sleepy post-lunch crowd. "What kind of sport, milady? I do not favor games of pure chance...perhaps a rubber of whist, if we can find a fourth??". He began to pack his tools and wares away, nealty and efficiently.
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Postby Snowdog » Sat Jul 20, 2002 12:52 pm

A game of chance would be a good thing to do, and Snowdog saw the eyes of undumiel returning to the smith time and again. He grinned and knew without words her intention. Snowdog was pleased she skipped him on another ale as he was nursin slow the one he had, it being the afternoon. Snowdog waved at the copper-curled lass and asked, <BR><BR><i>'You care to join us in some gaming?'</i><BR><BR>as she ran off. Well, maybe she will return.<BR><BR>With a soft wink at undumiel who looked at him for a moment as she drank down some ale, he smiled as he said to the smith.<BR><BR><i>'We could play sticks or dice as well'</i><BR><BR>Snowdog leaned back in his chair, watching the smith and undumiel.
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Postby elora » Sat Jul 20, 2002 7:17 pm

<BR><BR><i>The plan forming her mind held Elora's attention, and she lost herself in the wanderings of her mind as the blade whirred around her. However, small things started to intrude. She never danced blades with hair unbound and she now knew why. Curls kept bouncing in front of her vision. But she could not braid her hair for her cover prohibited it. That led her to the next intrustion. Would her cover stand if someone saw a woman with copper curls dancing the forms of a Weapons Dancer? Uneasiness spread through Elora and a rustling of the undergrowth at the back of the inn brought her blade to a sudden and absolute stop, the sword now clearly visible from the blurred movement it was brought from. Lowering her arm, Elora stared hard at the bushes. Nothing came out. It was probably just a hare. But what a fool she had been. With a number of choice phrases that would make a sailor's eyes bulge, the Guardian sheathed her sword and turned for the back door.<BR><BR>She didn't quite know why, but she had the distinct feeling that someone had watched and noted her grievous slip out of cover. Her pace picked up speed, and when the door closed behind her and the coolness of the inn enveloped her, Elora breathed a small sigh of guilty relief. It was safer in the commonroom. Under so many eyes she was more liable to watch herself more carefully. Tossing curls back, she fastened the baldric around her shoulder and chest until the sword was nestled at her back. It's hilt was at one shoulder, masked by her thick curls. At any rate, it would be unrecognisable as her sword particularly. Though rare in latter days, there were still enough of these blades about so that it could not identify her.<BR><BR>She emerged into the commonroom and cast a quick glance about the room. Noone looked at her strangely, or averted their eyes. No hint that the sound in the bushes had been one of those that presently attended to their refreshments. Her cheeks flushed again with disguted irritation for her carelessness and she walked to the bar.</i><BR><BR>A tankard of ale, good barkeep, if you could be so kind.<BR><BR><i>Two coppers dropped onto the bar as the tankard was poured and set before her. Her back still to the room, Elora took a good mouthful to moisten her dry mouth. Still noone said anything, or whispered. If she was fortunate, she'd just have to answer to herself for her stupidity. Turin, were he here, would have been appalled at her absence of thought. She looked at her ale, a rueful expression reflected back at her. Taking another sip, Elora turned to look at the commonroom once more, just to be sure that indeed she had not betrayed herself. She adjusted the leather strap that rested over one breast, having been a little hasty in fixing the sword to her back, and her gaze wandered to the smith, the ranger and Snowdog. Curiosity led her to look at the game that was forming between the three. If she was not very much mistaken, something was afoot there that seemed interesting indeed.<BR><BR>She smiled at the woman, who noticed Elora's stare, and then looked away to the other patrons. Resting at the bar, despite the barkeep's disapproval of woman lounging and cluttering up his clean bar, Elora bravely hoped for the best. It seemed all was still in order, no thanks to her. Another mouthful of ale and her shoulders started to relax a little, and the flush of her cheeks began to fade. The barkeep meaningfully cleared his throat behind her and looked pointedly at the vacant tables and chairs. Elora nodded,</i><BR><BR>Of course, good sir.<BR><BR><i>She wandered, looking for a table that would afford a good vantage of the door, the back door and the stairs, just in case the rustle had been more than a hare.</i>
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Postby Oliphaunt » Sat Jul 20, 2002 9:57 pm

The three people gathered around a small table in the innroom. The smith pulled a weatherspotted and worn deck of cards from one of his many pockets, just as the dark-haired woman produced a set of dice. "Ah, what will it be? The more risky game of dice? A more sedate, yet silently intense hand of cards?" The smith split, whiffled, and bridged the cards in one smooth motion, placing them neatly in the center of the table. Placing his elbows on the table, he leaned his chin on the tips of his long, scarred fingers. The soft noise of a door closing and the barely-audible sound of soft, light, padding footsteps whispered in his ears, alerting him to the presence of the copper-haired lady from earlier. Her distinctive boots whispered against the coarse floorboards as she reentered the common room.
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Postby Snowdog » Sun Jul 21, 2002 3:31 pm

Snowdog laid out his two throwing sticks next to the dice and cards, and he said,<BR><BR><i>'How about all three? We will start with your cards, move to dice, and finish with sticks. Sound fair?'</i><BR><BR>His eye caught the woman making way from the bar and waved her over.
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Postby Oliphaunt » Sun Jul 21, 2002 4:16 pm

"Very good...however, for whist we will need a fourth player. Perhaps we should defer on the cards until we do find someone else?" While the smith wa sspeaking, he rummaged deep in his capacious bag, removing a tall, slender silver bottle which tapered away to a slightly curved point. Four tiny, matching glasses slightly bigger than large thimbles followed. "It is a custom in my homelands always to toast before any game or sport. May I interest you in a glass of <i>luftkald</i>?" As he unscrewed the stopper from the tip of the bottle, the entire silver vessel frosted over with a short, crackling hiss. Cold steam wisped out of the bottle as he held it over the glasses, poised to pour.
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Postby elora » Sun Jul 21, 2002 4:42 pm

<i>Elora's quick eyes did not miss the dice brought forth by Undomiel. She had a rather well known weakness for dicing and when Snowdog waved her over to where he sat with the smith and the female ranger, she couldn't help the pleased smile that appeared on her face. She arrived as the smith spoke of </i>luftkald<i> and glanced to the tankard in her hand. She eyed the bottle he held with curiosity but her gaze rested longer on his face as her mind stored that little fact away. Very few spoke of luftkald this far south. Another coincidence that was not a coincidence. What was a master smith from the extreme northern realms doing in this remote place, where so few patrons could be found? Perhaps he was just passing through, although it seemed to her too heavy handed for chance's light touch.</i><BR><BR>May I be so bold as to join you? The afternoon lengthens and I find idleness of little joy to me.<BR><BR><i>Elora worked hard at tamping down the excitement of being able to learn a new game of the Chilren. Dicing she knew well and loved dearly. Cards she had a passing knowledge of. Sticks she had heard of only. The opportunity to learn something new was bright to her, and it reflected in the enthusiasm of her voice and the light in her smile. Four glasses were poured and Elora was seated, shifting the base of the scabbard at her back as she sat. As the glasses were passed around, she took her own up and peered at it with open curiosity. Ainur and alcohol could be an interesting mixture, but Elora was not about to turn the luftkald away. The way it hissed and steamed astounded her. Hoping that her curiousity and innate fascination with anything to do with her master's Chilren would not lead her astray, she raised the tiny glass and looked back to the smith.</i><BR><BR>To what or whom shall we toast, Master Craftsman?
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Postby Oliphaunt » Sun Jul 21, 2002 4:53 pm

(OOC: Elora, my char is from the extreme north, not the other way around. Sorry if it was confusing.<img src="http://www.tolkienonline.com/mb/i/expressions/face-icon-small-sad.gif"border=0>)<BR><BR>As he tipped the bottle to each of the minute glasses, they crackled and were coated with a furry layer of frost. The liquid was nearly transparent, with a hint of pale blue. "This is the liquor of my homeland, distilled from the mint and...er....helped along by specially trained mages. I toast to good sport, fair play, and proliferation of honor." He tipped his glass back, allowing the intensely cold, viscous liquid to slide down his throat. Where normal liquor caused a hot sensation, this left a severe cold which was almost painful, yet as it passed into the stomach nothing was left but a cool, relaxing feeling which dissipated as it spread throughout the body.
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Postby undumiel » Tue Aug 06, 2002 6:31 pm

As the smith held forth his liquid to her, Undumiel could feel Snowdog's eyes upon her. He likely knew that much liquor had ill effects on her, but whether from denial or defiance of Snowdog's knowing look, Undumiel tossed her hair and accepted the drink gladly.<BR><BR><i>Honor is a worthy toast among strangers, friend, and honor is the soul of my people. May that be a standard that links us always.</i><BR><BR>She tossed the drink back, and as the cold fire of its residue coursed through her blood, she turned toward the smith, noting the way he started at the fire in her eyes and the blood in her cheeks.<BR><BR><i>And now, good sir, I believe that you were looking for a bit of sport.</i><BR><BR>Her eyes flashed in challenge, and as the smith searched for a reply, she grinned and cocked her eyebrow.
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Postby Snowdog » Tue Aug 06, 2002 9:08 pm

Snowdog smiled at the smith as he took the glass of luftkald. He said,<BR><BR><i>'Good sport, fair play, and proliferation of honor is good, and is ratherly expected I say. I will drink to that.'</i><BR><BR>The small glass of drink went down quick and easy, for Snowdog was used to, and even missed the cold, and this was a fair reminder of the days past, and to the days to come. With a clunk of the glass set down, Snowdog looked at the woman with the copper hair, the woman whom he rode in with, and the smith and said,<BR><BR><i>'We will play this day, but I have one thing to take care of here first.'</i><BR><BR>Snowdog turned and waved a rough-looking Hobbit lad who was watching from the door over, and with some words, he told him much, and with fingers noted two, and dug for some gold coin, and gave it to him. He nodded and quickly left, and Snowdog turned again to the table. The others looked at him maybe a little suspiciously, but Snowdog said,<BR><BR><i>'I know to take care of provision before gambling. Now do we start with cards, dice, or sticks?'</i><BR><BR>Snowdog smiled at copper curls as she looked at him.
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Postby elora » Tue Aug 06, 2002 9:50 pm

<BR><i>There was no other thing for it but to down the drink. Undomiel had seen to hers, the smith to his and now Snowdog his own. That left her rather conspiciously eyeing the steaming contents of the glass in her hands. Last time she accepted an unknown drink she had ended up married to the man who had mixed it for her. Snowdog's scrutiny simply left her no other option. Elora smiled at him, sweeping the table with what she hoped was a grin suitable for an adventurer, for that was what she was posing as, and lifted her glass in salute.</i><BR><BR>Good sport, fair play and profliferating honour...<BR><BR><i>And with those words she could delay no longer without either giving some excuse or offending those that sat with her. Elora drained her glass, and her eyes widened as she swallowed. A surrepetitious check around her and the table in the immediately ensuing moments confirmed that nothing in particular had gone wrong. Her eyes were still violet, for noone paused at how they would swirl with the colours that normally turned there. Neither had the combination of strange alcohol and the Flame Imperishable altered the natural order of things. She set the container down with a faint sense of relief and a distinct sense of coolness as the liquor spread through her veins. All in all, it was quite pleasing and she made a note of seeking yet more of luftkald before this was done to take home with her. <BR><BR>Shooting Snowdog a curious gaze in return, she made what she hoped would be a perfectly reasonable response as she settled back in her chair.</i><BR><BR>I am partial to dice, myself, but I am more than happy to start with something else if there is an objection to that art of chance...<BR><BR>If I may ask, where do you travel that you seek provisions for? To your home, or elsewhere?<BR><BR><i>One brow rose smoothly before she knew what she was doing, head cocked to one side in a typically curious expression. A moment passed before she understood that she was not at all helping her objective to remain unrecognised. Elora shifted in her chair, using the sword at her back as reason for the movement and managed to smooth her expression. For some reason, the whole situation seemed amusing to her and then her nose crinkled in laughter. She made another note to limit her intake of luftkald until a more appropriate time, like when not on duty, and that too seemed amusing. She bit her lower lip a moment, and in a voice that carried a fading hint of laughter said,</i><BR><BR>Recalling why I'm fond of dicing, is all... my pardon.<BR><BR><i>Despite the faint flush of rose to her cheeks, Elora assumed a knowing manner of a woman familiar with dicing. That was very easy, for she was familiar with dicing, and therefore it was safe. Blending and imitating mortals was not at all easy. Not even one day in their midst and she had slipped in countless ways. She curled a strand around her finger absently and leaned towards the table with enthusiasm.</i><BR><BR>Shall we throw the dice and see what fortune awaits?<BR><BR>
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Postby Oliphaunt » Wed Aug 28, 2002 7:49 am

OOC: I'm back, go aharead and start the dice game no tim to post now)
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Postby Snowdog » Wed Sep 04, 2002 12:24 pm

<i> Ok, lets get this dice game going....</i><BR><BR>Snowdog looked at undumiel who was focused on the smith, and with a slight smile he took up the dice, six in all.<BR><BR><i>I am not sure what games you all are accustommed to, but I know this one from out of the East... a wager is made against the thrower making the same on the dice. The thrower can also bet, but he has to make or better what he wagers he will throw....</i><BR><BR>He shook the dice in his cupped hands, the clacking sound muffled. Looking at the smith, and then to Curls, he wanted to see if everyone knew the terms.<BR><BR><i>Of course the more dice that match its harder to beat, but then the payoff is better... I will wager I will throw four of six, any number.</i><BR><BR>Snowdog set out four gold pieces for his wager, and looked to see if anyone would match.
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Postby elora » Wed Sep 04, 2002 10:23 pm

<BR><i>Now this was more familiar territory, and Elora found herself relaxing further still, abetted by the luftkald recently consumed. She nodded in agreeance and dug about in the pouch that hung from the belt at her hips. As she let her fingers explore, she added,</i><BR><BR>Four golds is it for odds like that? Well then, I think I can manage something...<BR><BR><i>Her brow was faintly creased as her fingers searched for the coins. Four gold... she only had eight... well at least the room was paid for already. And if she lost this four and the rest? Elora extracted four gold coins and added a fifth to the small pile on the table. If she lost all her gold she could always find a tree somewhere to sleep in. Wouldn't be the first time.</i><BR><BR>I'll see that wager and add another to it! <BR><BR><i>Elora flashed a speculative grin at the table as she pushed the coins towards the four already placed there by Snowdog. The gold glinted in the afternoon light and with a start she wondered if they were the right gold coins. It certainly would be more than a little unusual if the coins were stamped with FIngolfin's royal crest. Trying to be discreet, she looked carefully at the coins and found they were perfectly nondescript and normal. Her smile reasserted itself and she sat back to await another wager or the throw of the dice.<BR><BR>Would she be lucky tonight? Well she certainly hoped so, for a run of bad luck added to her already many slips and errors would be her undoing. Sitting back in her chair once more, a curl yet again absently winding around her fingers, Elora's gaze flitted between Undumiel and Ceilhim to see if either one would be in the wager or if they were occupied with other thoughts. Curiosity twinkled in her gaze.</i><BR>
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Postby Snowdog » Wed Oct 23, 2002 9:22 am

Snowdog tossed in the extra. He was going to have it or no, but either way he had learned from many a gaming in Inns such as these to get provision taken care of first. Sneowdog looked at the smith who seemed to have thoughts elsewhere, and then to undumiel who had accompanied him from the Prancing Pony. An enigma she was, mysterious as much as he was. He saw in her eyes the stare that said her mind was far away, yet just over the horizon. He stasrtled her by asking,<BR><BR><i>So are you in on this action or no?</i><BR><BR>Snowdog shook the dice to give ample time for all bets to be placed. He looked at the lady who bet and with an expressionless face. let the dice go...
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Postby RavenTinuviel » Tue Feb 17, 2004 7:28 pm

Raven comes in and looks around the empty Inn. It sure is hard to find a drink around here these days. Gingerly hopping the bar, she mixes up a Dragons Breath in an ale tankard and hopped back over to the other side of the bar. the smoking mug she lifted and said,<BR><BR>'To the days!'<BR><BR>and a good portion went down as she tipped her head back.
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Postby Arthedain » Sat Apr 02, 2005 9:18 pm

The Door creaks from lack of use for so long. Forinor, a tall dark soldier of Gondor pushes it open, and the beam of dull gray light filles the room.
'Deserted'
He mumbles to himself as the door creaks shut. Darkness now surrounds him, and he looks about to find a remnent of a candle still in a holder at a table. His eyes adjusted to the darkness and he was able to make out the tables and the fireplace where light came down the chimney. The ash bed was wet from the rains, but Forinor stirred them so the drier unders were exposed. The flint and some shavings were there, set ready for another days fire that never come. He quickly had a blaze going, and built a stack of ever increasing sizes of wood. A twig aflame he used t olight the candle and a coupe others that he fund.
'There'
he said, loking about the dimly lit common room. At one table were dice setting, and some old tankards of patrons long gone. Another table had cards set as if the hands were tossed and gathered. What had come of the proprieter of this inn? Of the wenches and patrons? It is the way of things, where changing fortunes and fate deals their hands.

Forinor rummaged around behind the bar, seeing sign of another recent visitor. There on the bar was a tankard that had been used much later than the rest. He looked at it and could see the stains in the wood. It would do.

Searching for a new keg, he tapped it and took a long draw on the heavy aged brew. He turned around and looked at the fire across the way as its light danced about. Soon images of people making merry appeared to him in vision. The dice thrown and bets made, and plans of adventure spoken of. Soon they faded to a crackle of the fire, and Forinor finished his tankard. Refilling it, he held it up and said aloud,

'To the Days!'
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Postby RavenTinuviel » Sat Aug 26, 2006 2:33 pm

Since there is still currently moratorium on new inns in the Pony, I am attempting to resurrect an old one. This Inn is for Tolkien world, in-character collaborative role play writing where the story is in the setting. Characters passing by can stop and rest and relax, partake in conversation over a table of food, tea, wine, or ale, and maybe even plan a new adventure that can then be taken to its own thread. Or maybe just tell stories of places they have been to, or have a party, or such. The rules of role playing in the Pony apply and it is asked that post be a reasonable paragraph size containing both narrative text and some dialogue (in other words, no one or two line dialogue only posts). I believe the role of an inn has a place in role playing as such, and hopefully this place will be used as such and be allowed to continue by the powers that be.

Edit: Since the powers that be has come in here and spoken, it has most likely crushed any possible interest of anyone taking part in building RP stories in an 'Inn' enviroment. Since no new 'Inn' threads are allowed, and apparently resurrecting old ones is frowned upon, I will take it elsewhere. :(
Last edited by RavenTinuviel on Thu Sep 07, 2006 7:26 pm, edited 3 times in total.
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Postby RavenTinuviel » Wed Sep 06, 2006 1:17 pm

:(
Last edited by RavenTinuviel on Thu Sep 07, 2006 7:24 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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