The Green Dragon Inn

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

Postby Bryttar » Thu Jun 21, 2007 7:51 am

Without a word spoken, the young girl ran off. The elf returned to standing and let out a soft compassionate sigh as his eyes followed her into the darkness. A moment later he turned to Bryttar.

“Shall we?”

Bryttar nodded and the two entered the Inn. The Rohirrim quickly scanned the patrons in the room and though some looked rather interesting, none appeared to be conducting themselves in a way that was threatening. What ever had frightened the young girl was not apparently obvious.

“Change of plans...” The elf said suddenly. “Bryttar, find us a table.”

Bryttar moved to an open booth across the room. Sliding easily into the inviting seat, he closed his eyes, let out a deep breath, and felt the tension ease from his body.

“May I get you something?”

His eyes opened to the sight of the portly innkeeper standing with a welcoming expression.

“Yes, I’ll take an ale, full size.”

“May I get anything for your friend?”

“He will order for himself.” Bryttar answered as he turned his attention to where the elf was now standing.

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Last edited by Bryttar on Thu Jun 21, 2007 8:00 am, edited 2 times in total.
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Postby Rylar » Thu Jun 21, 2007 7:52 am

As Galadorn reached out his hand in greeting to the peddler, Rylar felt a slight shift in her being. It was though a gentle breeze momentarily passed through her entire body.

She shifted her gaze slightly towards the door and their eyes made contact. An imperceptible signal passed between her and the dark haired elf. It was followed by another. The woman then turned back to see Galadorn looking down at her.

“I’m sorry.” She replied smiling. “Did you ask me something?”

“Rylar!”

“Cidyllor!” The woman turned and quickly slipped out of the booth. His deep familiar voice was a welcome sound. A moment later she and the dark haired elf were wrapped in an affectionate embrace.

Pressing her head in a little closer, the woman softly whispered one word into the elf’s ear.

“Here...” Rylar said in her normal voice as she released herself from the embrace and turned towards the table. "...we have Veris,” she said motioning to the peddler still sitting in the booth and then looked to the others, “…and this is Hirgon from Dol Armoth, and Galadorn wanderer of the woods.”

Rylar slid back into the booth as the dark haired elf nodded with a warm acknowledgment to the three. "And I am Cidyllor, from the lands near the Gray Havens." He then faced the two men.

“Hirgon, Galadorn,” his voice was friendly yet held a slight firmness. “Why don’t you two join me and my friend for a drink? I’ll buy.”

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Postby Tygarya » Fri Jun 22, 2007 4:04 pm

OOC I have been interested in joining this, but have you decided yet where this Inn is situated? and do you have an OOC thread, i couldn't find one :)
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Postby Rylar » Fri Jun 22, 2007 4:30 pm

OOC:

The thread originator has not been back to establish things like where the Inn is located. In my mind I've been writing it with the idea that the Inn is in the northern part of Middle Earth. If no one has any objections I would like to keep the Inn in the north.

There currently is no OOC thread. I've written in Bard Festival threads (no OOC threads) and RP stories (with OOC threads) but never an Inn thread so I don't know if there is supposed to be one. When we need to write an Out of Character comment or post here we've been doing in this same thread.

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Postby Tygarya » Fri Jun 22, 2007 4:32 pm

OOC: Thanks Rylar
But if there is no OOC thread where do you post your character bios?? Or is this thread a bit more relaxed :)
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Postby Rylar » Fri Jun 22, 2007 4:35 pm

OOC:

Tyg, as far as I know Inn threads are a bit more relaxed and low key. It's a thread where characters can come in and out (like an Inn) without the involved story lines. If a complex situation or story does arrise in the thread, then those stories usually spilt off into their own full blown RP.



Edited to add:

I've sent Daefaroth an email asking what would be the best way to proceed here. :)

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Postby RavenTinuviel » Fri Jun 22, 2007 10:36 pm

The door opened and in walked a small figure wrapped in a black silken cloak. Making way to an opening at the bar, she threw back her hood and let her black locks fall about her shoulders. Waving for the bartender, she said in a soft voice,

"I need a Dragonsbreath if you please."

The barkeep seemed to know what it was and nodded. Raven turned and leaned her back against the bar to look about the room. A click of a glass was set by her hand, followed by a hissing sound as the fog spilled down the side of the glass and disappated on the bar. She turned her dark eyes to it, and slid a silver to the tender before taking up the glass. A deep inhalation made her eyes sparkle some, and she sipped the drink. Setting it down and again looking about, she again tookm note of those in the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

OOC: Figured it was the polite thing to do to enter in story form before posting an OOC comment. In the old days, many an RP story was spawned from the free form, easy going Inn settings. Once things got to a point where a storline was developing and one of the writers thought character threads and OOC threads were needed, a separate, appropriately titled RP, OOC, and character thread was started and a link post was put in the Inn. No need to bother moderators as to what to do. :)
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Postby Rylar » Sat Jun 23, 2007 3:28 am

OOC:

Thanks for the info Raven. That is how I thought Inn threads worked.

When I email Dae I also asked about how to resolve that fact that we currently have no information on where this Inn is located (or the time of year, or the year.) With only three Inns being aloud in the Pony now, I think it's important that we have a some of these details posted in the introduction post since that first post sets the tone of the thread. :)

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Postby RavenTinuviel » Sat Jun 23, 2007 11:55 pm

OOC: I understand that. Being the 'innkeeper' nevez has not made an appearance in this thread, let alone on torc in 6 weeks, an email to him would be in order to ask if he had all that in mind. If he no longer has any interest or there is no response then the writers can put the inn anywhere in just one post. It could be the Green Dragon in the Shire, or anywhere else in Middle Earth the writers wish it to be, and in any season.

I guess I never thought it would be the moderators job to decide settings and seasons in a freeform RP inn. Also, writers should just write their characters into an inn without needing to post character profiles and requiring chatty OOC threads to figure it out. If the RP does not work out for the writer of the character, they can write the character as 'leaving the inn', and if it does and the RP develops, then all the pertinent threads can be started. Anyway... Good luck on your RP and in figuring all this out.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Raven finished looking over the patrons of the Green Dragon and turned back to the bar. Her hand lifted the glass of Dragonsbreath and watched as the fog settled. Tipping the glass to her lips, she downed it and sat it back down.

" That should hold me until I get to Bree."

And she drifted across the floor and pushed the door open, letting it close on its own.
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Postby SmogsFlame » Mon Jun 25, 2007 6:43 am

Agothdín watched the group with interest. Three elves, the man who looked to be from Dol Amroth, and the very nervous looking man who was most definitely not where he wanted to be. "Interesting meating." He thought to himself.

He finished his ale and pulled out his pipe from a pocket, filled the bowl, and lit it using the candle on the table. He pulled in a deep breath and exhaled the smoke. Holding the pope in one hand he stood up at his table and raised his voice.

"Is there anybody here willing to act as my guide? I can pay."
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Postby Rodia » Mon Jun 25, 2007 9:44 am

Fennel was stumped. He left the pouch where it lay, not understanding what was expected of him. He recalled everything he had sold in Willowbrook. The coin from the profitshad not all been spent. Maybe all this woman wanted was to retrieve the money, and once paid, she would leave him alone.

"I don't give refunds," he muttered this time, without conviction. She might not have heard him, for an elf had come to their table. He asked about the envelope; it was too much for Fennel. There were far too many people interested in him that evening, and all he had wanted was to drink his beer in peace. He no longer knew which side to watch for danger.

Before the elf could take a closer look, Fennel snatched the envelope and pouch, and hid both inside his jacket. He gave Rylar a reproachful look which she ignored, distracted by another newcomer seeking her company. Fennel hoped with all his might that he would invite her to join them at another table. He was disappointed again; she only introduced him and sat back down.

Fennel ground his teeth. His evening had been spoiled a good while ago, and was only getting worse. When the elf turned his attention to the mercenary and the wanderer, Fennel looked at Rylar again, in a manner no friendlier than before.

"If that is all you want from me, then..." he paused, remembering her earlier words. The people of Willowbrook had hired more than one messenger, she had said.
"Is this...all you want from me?" Fennel asked.
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Postby Rylar » Mon Jun 25, 2007 10:56 am

OOC: Dae replied and said the thread originator will be contacted to see if he will specify a location. If he doesn’t then we can decide. I put in one vote for the Inn being in the northern part of Middle Earth. :)

Galadorn and Hirgon, in order to move the story along I have written that your characters have moved away from the table and appear to have declined Cidyllor’s offer. When you return to the story if you’d like to have them join Bryttar and the elf at their table, then please do. :)


IC:

Rylar couldn’t help notice that the peddler’s anxiety seemed to grow with each new arrival, yet her attention turned as Hirgon, Galadorn, and Cidyllor moved toward the center of the room. She followed their movements until the man from Dol Armoth and the Wanderer of the woods moved off and Cidyllor began walking towards a booth where a blonde haired Rohirrim was relaxing.

"Is there anybody here willing to act as my guide? I can pay." The strangers request rang out. ’Another time, another place… Rylar thought just before Veris’ voice intrupted her thought.

"If that is all you want from me, then..."

Now alone at their table, the woman turned to see Veris shifting nervously as he spoke.

"Is this...all you want from me?" Veris asked.

The man's expression sparked a sense of compassion in the woman. She softened her voice.

“Yes Veris I want nothing more from you….although, I am curious about something…” She calmly looked into his eyes.

“Just what is it that you want for yourself?”


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Postby Rodia » Mon Jun 25, 2007 11:20 am

What a question. The peddler might have told her it was none of her business; the thought certainly crossed his mind.

"For myself, for tonight," he replied softly "I wanted to be left in peace. I wanted to have a drink and not be bothered by..." He stopped, not knowing what word would best fit the complaint.

"...by anyone," he finished awkwardly. "I'm sorry, I'm too tired tonight to find your joke amusing." As they were alone again, he pulled the envelope and pouch from inside his jacket. He pushed them both across the table.

"To be honest I would not find it amusing under any circumstances."

The peddler withdrew his hand, and brushed thumb against palm as if it itched.
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Postby Rylar » Mon Jun 25, 2007 11:41 am

“No Veris,” Rylar's voice was still calm but also direct as she pushed the pouch and envelope back towards the peddler. “These items are now yours. Do with them what you wish, but I will not take them back.”

The woman reached to her left, gathered her belongings and then took one lasting look into the man’s listless gray eyes.

“If it is peace that you desire then I will disturb you no longer.” She pushed herself out of the booth and looked down.

“And please, finish the bread if you’d like.”

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Postby Rodia » Mon Jun 25, 2007 12:11 pm

Fennel opened his mouth to protest, and found he had to rise to speak to Rylar, for she had already taken a step away from the table. He pulled himself up and took a deeper breath.

"These are not mine," he said a little louder, pointing to the envelope and pouch. "Rylar! I don't want them. They've been paid for and the coin has been spent. Do you understand?"
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Postby Rylar » Mon Jun 25, 2007 12:31 pm

The woman stopped at the sound of her name. She carefully turned around and took two steps towards the peddler, noticing they were close in height. Shifting her cloak it now draped over her right arm.

“Yes Veris, I do understand.” She answered lowering her voice. “However, that is none of my concern now. I found you, I’ve returned the items, and I’ve given you the letter. My job is done.”

Rylar looked into his gray eyes again, “…but that’s not enough for you is it?”


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Postby Rodia » Mon Jun 25, 2007 12:39 pm

"Your job," Fennel repeated, incredulous. "You are still playing..." He shook his head, confused.

"You would tell me that those poor fools at Willowbrook wrote this...or had it written- I don't believe one of them knows any letters- you would tell me they paid you with their hard-earned coin just to give me this message?"

None of it made any sense. The peddler's mouth curled half in a grimace, half in a tentative smile. "No, it isn't enough for me. Tell me, who was it that really hired you?"

He had no idea what her answer might be, and that worried him most.
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Postby Bryttar » Mon Jun 25, 2007 2:07 pm

With his hands wrapped around the mug, Bryttar stared into the foam as he waited. The man's request for a local guide went unheard.

“How is it?” Cidyllor asked slipping into the booth across from the Rohirrim. Bryttar looked up from his untouched ale.

“You lied to me.”

The elf sat back for a moment and collected himself. “About what?”

“Her!” Bryttar answered sharply with a nod towards the far table. “She’s a woman…”

“Rylar!?!” Cidyllor answered with a slow smile. “Yes, Rylar’s a woman.”

“No,” he quickly shot back. “You told me she was an…”

“Elf?” Cidyllor interrupted. “…and when did I say that?”

“You told me that Rylar, your sister, had been searching for me…for several months now because of a message she...” There was a long pause.

Bryttar released the mug with one hand and racked his fingers through his hair. “Damn!” He whispered.

Lifting the mug to his lips he then took a long draught of the dark ale.

“OK…when do I get my message?” he asked with a new sense of growing irritation as he set the mug down upon the table.

“Bryttar, she knows you’re here. When she’s finished with the…”

“Rylar!” The woman’s name shot across the room. Bryttar and Cidyllor turned. Both the woman and the peddler were now standing as the peddler continued. "I don't want them. They've been paid for and the coin has been spent. Do you understand?"


“Well…it could be any moment now.” The elf finished as he turned back towards the Rohirrim and smiled.

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Postby Rylar » Mon Jun 25, 2007 3:58 pm

“So it’s not peace that you desire right now is it?” Rylar asked knowingly.

The woman glanced down at the slightly worn envelope resting uponn the table. The fabric pouch was still perched upon one corner. Returning her gaze to the peddler his attempt to conceal his distress was faltering.

“Why is it that you find my words so hard to believe?” She asked steadfastly, noticing the wariness growing in his eyes. “What is harder to believe, that they paid me their hard earned coin to deliver a message of appreciation or they paid you hard earned coin for several gadgets and trinkets that truly held no special power?”

She paused for several moments before continuing. “Yet somehow, the two weeks you were there, the two weeks you spent in their homes, sharing their meals, playing with their children, entertaining them with stories of distant lands...in those two weeks your presence changed them.”

Rylar hesitated. “If its answers you want I can supply some, but I do not understand all that I saw when I was there.”

The woman then moved her left hand motioning towards the empty table. “Shall we?”

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Postby Rodia » Tue Jun 26, 2007 6:45 am

He did not believe her. Of course he didn't. The problem was figuring out whose idea of a lark this was. It was a ridiculous joke, and yet someone had put a great deal of resources into its execution. Fennel didn't know anyone who would waste so much time and coin trying to scare him.

As Rylar offered to talk about it, the peddler wondered if it had been her own idea. There was something of a cat in her, he thought, a hunting creature that liked to torment her prey. She could have very well written the incredulous letter herself, just for sport.

The way she spoke made him feel uncomfortable, for she talked in a manner reserved for old acquaintances. Like a story, she told him where he had been and what he had done there. She spoke as if she had been always watching from a corner, a skulking scribe with her quill who now came to recite her verse. It was not a very detailed verse yet, but Fennel had a feeling the rhyme could very quickly become much more complicated.

He nodded and sat down again, watching her carefully and waiting for her to speak.
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Postby Rylar » Tue Jun 26, 2007 9:07 am

With each word she spoke Veris looked more and more confounded, like he was hearing the words but she was speaking a foreign language. Yet when she offered to sit back down and talk, seconds felt like minutes as he took his time. After much consideration and with a nod, Rylar followed suit and slipped back into the booth.

“Would you like a drink?” she asked hoping to break some of the tension.

“Yes…another ale.” The peddler answered shortly.

Rylar motioned the Innkeeper as he was nearby and placed their order. Several minutes passed while Rylar remained quiet, reflecting on her brief, yet quaint visit in Willowbrook. It was the Innkeeper's return that brought her back to the moment.

“Thank you…” she said slipping two coins gently into his palm.

Placing the cup to her lips, the rich fruit drink slipped easily down her throat. Lowering her hand, the glass made a soft thud as she set it back down on the table.

“So…” she began while settling back into her seat. “What question would like answered first?”

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Postby Rodia » Tue Jun 26, 2007 9:17 am

Fennel took care of his thirst before acknowledging her question. If she was going to play her cat's game with him, he could at least get a few drinks out of it. He set the mug back down and wiped the froth from his lip.

"I don't expect I could get an answer to the question I already asked, could I," he wondered in a voice bereft of any pleasant expectations. "Who hired you?" he repeated.
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Postby Rylar » Tue Jun 26, 2007 11:18 am

OOC: This was a colaborative post written by Rodia and Rylar.


IC:

Rylar listened carefully to his words before she replied. He claimed not to expect an answer and yet he asked the same question again. Such was the way for men who made a living playing off people’s hopes, and their dreams.

“As I’ve said before the people of Willowbrook.” She finally replied.

“No, I didn't really think I would get an answer."

Her dark eyes looked intently into his. “Did I not just give you an answer?”

He didn't stare back, but turned to the drink again. "Very well. Do I get another question?"

“About this, you may ask as many questions as you wish.” She replied.

He raised his eyebrows. "You are generous. Much like the good people in Willowbrook, but I don't recall seeing you there. Where do you come from?"

The woman noted the hint of sarcasm but ignored it. “My homeland is near the foothills of the Grey Havens.”

Veris nodded without looking at her. His eyes scanned the ceiling as if he had lost something in the beams. "The Grey Havens. A gentle place, filled with parting memories. Many footprints lead down the silver shore, and fewer return to the green turf above...still, the hearts sail on, all of them."

He delivered this speech in a soft voice, and then abruptly looked back at Rylar.

"I've never been there," he said, dryly.

A hint of a smile broke across her lips. “But you speak as though you have.”

"Well, then perhaps those silvery shores are not as difficult a place to imagine as everyone seems to believe. They may be just like any other bay or valley, town or village, with all manner of people bred there." He shrugged and drank again from the mug in his hand.

Rylar glanced down to her fingers which were wrapped around the stem of her glass. The sting of his words rose up from deep inside and formed into a mist in her eyes.

“I was wrong Veris.” She spoke quietly not looking up. “You speak as one who’s never seen the land.”

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Postby Rodia » Tue Jun 26, 2007 3:48 pm

It was a poor triumph to hear her voice sadden. Fennel worried. He still didn't know what this woman wanted, or who sent her with her errand. The rules of her game were obscure.

"What do you know of where I have and haven't been," Fennel mumbled in reply. "I might not even have been to Willowbrook." A question. She had said she would answer any question, and Fennel just thought of a very good one.

"How did you know I was the one you were looking for?"
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Postby Rylar » Tue Jun 26, 2007 9:33 pm

His words hung in the air as she let the gentle wave of sadness flow through her. Memories were many of those she had known, and loved, who had traveled to the sacred shores never to set foot upon the land of Middle Earth again. It was a journey she would never take.

As the sadness slowly drifted away, Rylar glanced up and looked towards Cidyllor. He and the Rohirrim were deep in discussion with their half eaten dinners cooling in front to them. She kept her eyes on the two men as she began to answer the peddler’s question.

“Veris, you confirmed what I suspected.” Rylar’s voice still held a hint of melancholy. She then drew in and released a deep breath just as the Rohirrim man glanced over. The woman broke his gaze by turning back to the peddler.

“When you entered the Inn you fit the description…when I placed the items on the table your first response was ‘I don’t do refunds’… and finally, when I mentioned the name Reven you replied, 'the good folk of Willowbrook know me as Reven, yes.’

Rylar paused to swallow the final drops of her drink, and then slowly continued.

“But if you really want to wander around Middle Earth discretely, I would suggest you remove that red cord you have wrapped around the strap of your bag.”

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Postby Rodia » Thu Jun 28, 2007 4:03 pm

Fennel's heart sank deeper into his gut with her every word, and his ears turned a bright, embarrassed red. She was right, of course; he had given her all the answers. He could blame it on shock; no one had ever caught him before. But the peddler knew better than that, and regretfully attributed her victory to his own stupidity. Live and learn, he told himself, but be sure to live so you can learn, as well.

He looked down at his bag and the red piece of string wound around it. With a disgusted grimace, he slid a finger into its loop and pulled until it snapped.
"And it was meant to bring me luck, as well," he complained, tugging the string free. He let it drop onto the table: a small, red coil. Traitor or no, he felt exposed without its discreet protection.

"Well, and now that you've found me, and I've stupidly announced myself to you, what will you do? Don't say you only meant to deliver the letter," he almost pleaded. His voice was weary. "I lied when I said the money was spent, I still have most of it. If I give it back to you, will you let me on my way?" All the fight had gone out of him when she showed him, so plainly, how foolish he had been. He would stop being foolish now, and cease taunting her: it was time to bargain.
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Postby Tygarya » Thu Jun 28, 2007 5:03 pm

A group of four men entered the Inn, looking around furtively, hands discreetly on their weapons. They were travel worn, anyone could see that, dirt and dust covered their clothing. They were all unshaven and dishevelled. All of them wore a sword and dagger obviously at their belts. A couple of them even had bows strapped to their backs. They gave off the rather intimidating image of men not to be messed with. They spread out around the doorway as another figure, cloaked and hooded, enters behind them. Nothing can hide the fact that this fifth person is a woman. She pushes back her hood but keeps her cloak pulled close around her, almost hiding something. As she looks quickly around the Inn, she takes in everything and everyone in that one quick glance.
At first glance, this woman is a great beauty, almost causing a man to stare, but as you look closer you notice the unemotional, uncaring almost unattached aire that labels her distinctly as a cold blooded killer, making most look away quickly blanching slightly and thanking their lucky stars their eyes did not lock with hers.
The Inn Keep steps up nervously wringing his hands
“I don’t want any trouble here”
The woman turns and regards him a moment coolly, then smiles. Her smile is radiant and could almost change a person’s opinion, but the smile never reaches her eyes. She answers him then, in a light musical voice but which has an authority in it seldom used to not being listened too.
“You’ll get no trouble from us, we have spent a long time on the road so I thought the boys could do with a hot meal when I saw your Inn, that’s all”
Tyg points to a table in the far corner, with a nod of her head, tucked away in the darkness.
‘We’ll be over there, bring the boys some ale and some food, and bring me a bottle of your best red wine”
Tyg places a silver coin in the Keep’s hand and moves past him making her way to the table with her men. He looks at the coin, startled by the fact it’s a silver, then hurries to get this strange group tended to.
As they sit at the table one of the men lights the single candle by approaching the fire and leaning slightly in to catch a flame to the wick. The men start to laugh and joke amongst themselves as they relax in the warmth of the Inn. Tyg however sits slightly aside from them, quiet and contemplative.
The Keep’s serving girl brings over the ale and wine, Tyg thanks her, pours herself a glass from the bottle, drinks it down quickly (the mark of a seasoned drinker) then pours herself another. She leans back in her chair, leaning it against the wall.
One of her men turns to her.
“So where is he?” he asks quietly
“Not here it would seem, be patient” Tyg answers as she takes out a dagger and starts cleaning her nails with it, keeping a furtive eye on the door and on the other patrons in the Inn.


OOC: Heres a little about this character to help. Tyg is an assassin, grew up on the streets of Minas Tirith (yes it’s not all glitz and glam) as a pickpocket, sneakthief then a cutthroat, before being taken into the secret world of the nastiest people ever to walk the earth the Assassins Guild. (it was that or a whorehouse when she was 14) so now she is somewhere in her late twenties and one of the best (so, one of the worst) mainly because no one suspects a woman could possibly be a killer, even when she’s found in the very room with the body…they tend to assume she was the person’s bed companion and send her on her way…did I mention she’s a very good actress. Her main clientele is the extreme wealthy, even royalty and persons of governance (you would have to be in very good company to know who she is). She basically works for the ruling class, keeping them in their positions. Although she has no morals of whether those people should be in power or not as long as they pay her. She has several people that work for her, they do all the main jobs. Oh she’s quarter elf, father must have been half elf, mother human (died in child birth) she was a whore, but it’s only a guess by looking at her features, she didn’t know her father, she thinks he died on the battlefield
She is currently waiting for her next paying customer to arrive to give her details of her peoples next assignments. Hope that’s a quick fill in on her character. Lets see where this goes
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Tygarya
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Postby SmogsFlame » Fri Jun 29, 2007 12:27 pm

Agothdín watched the lady and her goons out of the corner of his eye. Occasionally blowing a puff of smoke in the air. Maybe it had been a good idea to keep his sword on his parson after all.

Something about the woman interested him. Beautiful, but icy cold. He turned to look at her full on. As if feeling his stare she turned to look at him, their eyes met and held for a while before Agoth broke off. Not much in Middle-Earth scared him, having grown up in the shadow of Erech. But something about the woman unnerved him.

She seemed to be waiting on somebody, who, Agothdín couldn't guess. But she did seem to glance at the door a good bit. "Perhaps they're on the run from somebody." He thought to himself.

He turned his gaze back from the door to the lady to find her still staring at him with her cold eyes. He watched he for a moment before removing the stem of his pipe from his mouth and breathing a gray cloud of smoke into the air above his head. He set the pipe down and drained the last mouthful of ale from his mug.

Oh how he wanted to go up to bed and sleep but he didn't like the idea, of basically leaving that lady and the men with her at his back. So he stayed. Rubbed the sleep from his eyes and stayed. He would stay until they made a move. He laughed to himself. "And I'm very good at waiting. But I need something to keep me busy"

He looked around. Nothing. But he suddenly remembered that he had not taken propper care of his bow when he had come in. So went upstairs, gathered up his bow, quiver of arrows, oil, rag, and wetstone and carried the buddle back downstairs where he layed everything out on the table. One by one he began sharpening arrowheads, polishing wood, and checking his bowstring. It would be a long waiting game indeed.
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SmogsFlame
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Postby Tygarya » Fri Jun 29, 2007 3:49 pm

Tyg looked up sharply from cleaning her nails with her dagger, the instant she felt eyes on her. Her looked into the eyes of a man across the room. He held her eyes a long moment, then as they all did, he pulled his gaze away. She could see the ever so slight shiver. Still he had held her gaze more than most. Tyg watched him intently for a moment, he seemed to be regarding the door, perhaps wondering who or what she was waiting for. Tyg decided to stop watching the door so closely. Suddenly the man looked back at Tyg, their eyes meeting once again briefly, before he blows out a great cloud of smoke obscuring their vision of each other.
‘A very brave man indeed’ Tyg thought to herself, ‘very intriguing’
Tyg watched as he drained his drink, got up and seemed to retire to his room.
‘Shame’ Tyg thought, ‘I could have had some fun with that one’
Just then he returned. Tyg set her chair back down on all legs and leaned forward, putting her elbows on the table, resting her chin on the palm of her hand she watched the man, with a smirk on her face, as he laid a bow and arrows and all his cleaning equipment on the table and set about treating his equipment to a spruce up, settling himself in for a long night.
Tyg chuckled to herself, ‘He doesn’t trust us’
Enjoying herself immensely with the prospect of some light entertainment, Tyg waves over the servant girl and whispers to her. She passes a small coin to the girl and she nods her head and makes her way over to the bar.
Tyg leans back in her chair again, wine glass in hand and waits.

The servant girl approaches Agothdin, and places a mug of the Inns finest ale in front of him, saying that it is on the woman in the corner, dressed in black.
Agothdin looks up sharply at Tyg.
Tyg raises her glass in a salute, mirth dancing around her lips. She then purposely looks away from him and turns to start a conversation with one of her men. The smirk still on her face.
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Postby Claymore » Sun Jul 01, 2007 3:00 pm

The door of the Inn swung open and a tired-looking, weatherbeaten man entered. His callused fingers held the hand of a thin,waif-like little girl with wavy golden hair and big green eyes. The man himself had brown hair and steel-grey eyes. He might once have been handsome but now a big scar run from his hairline, over the right-side of his face and his mouth, to his chin. This gave him a rather grim and dangerous look, which wasn't improved by the hilt of a big two-handed sword sticking from over his right schoulder.
He quickly looked around and noticing the tension in the air, hesitated.
He badly needed a place to sleep, but he didn't want to bring his daughter in the middle of a tavern fight.
'Daddy, I'm cold. What are we waiting for?' a reed-thin voice asked him. The man looked down to his daughter. Although the Healers of Minas Tirith had been able to cure her illnes, she still hadn't a very strong health and the Healers had said to keep her warm and dry as much as possible. He shrugged. He would be careful then. He bent down and picked his daughter up.
-For nothing dear. Daddy is just a big old wolf who sees danger everywhere.
His daughter comfortably seated on his hip, he went to the bar and waited untill the bartender had noticed him.
-Yes?
-I would like to have one room for me and my daughter and a hot meal for the two of us.
He placed a silver coin on the bar.
-That's alright. You can take room four, mister...?
-Eradan and this is Ailinel.
Last edited by Claymore on Mon Jul 02, 2007 1:07 am, edited 1 time in total.
Claymore
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