Shrouds of Varda Inn ~ Fornost in the 4th Age *Burned Down*

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

Postby erinhue » Thu Mar 04, 2010 4:37 pm

When he entered the room, Erinhue spoke briefly with the town guardsmen and then sent them out. Kierul was still laying on the bed trussed up just as Tempest had left him. The guardsmen must have tired of listening to his pleas and excuses because the man was now gagged.

Standing over him, the bard took out his knife and cut the strip of cloth wrapped around his head and stuffed into his mouth. He saw Kierul staring at the knife, following its every move with his eyes. The man’s relief was noted when Erinhue slipped the knife back into its sheath on his belt.

“We have been wondering what to do with you” Erinhue said. “It seems that you might prove useful yet so, we are going to take you with us.”

Kierul spat the taste of the cloth from his mouth and sneered “I am not going to go anywhere with you.”

“I thought you would say that. Frankly I did not expect your cooperation but I am here to make a bargain with you. I am going to give you a choice. You can come along with us peacefully or…..”

Kierul did not hear the rest of the sentence. At first he thought that the bard had simply stopped speaking but the truth very soon became clear. The one time kidnapper realized that he could not hear a single sound and the room had suddenly gone very dark.

A sense of dread turned to horror with the discovery that he could not move. The bonds were tight enough to keep him from moving but now he could not even strain against them, nor could he turn his head. Panic truly set in when he realized that he could not breathe, the muscles that made that possible simply refused to work. He tried to cry out but no sound came from him.

Inwardly Kierul struggled, fighting to for the air that he could not suck into his lungs. There was now a sound but it was the pounding of his own heart and the pulse of the blood rushing through his veins. Just when he thought he would die from lack of air, he found that he suddenly was able to take a breath and gulped at the much needed air. He knew that his hearing had returned when the bard’s voice came out of the nothingness registered by his blinded eyes.

“That is your other choice. We could keep you like that all the way back to Gondor but I would rather not do that, I might forget to let you breathe from time to time. It would be easier to have you moving about under your own power so I am going to ask for you word that you will cooperate.”

Kierul’s mouth worked open and closed but no sound came.

“See, I had already forgotten that you could not speak. My memory is not what it used to be. I ask again for you to give me your word that you will cooperate and not cause us trouble along the way.”

“I will, I swear it.” The still panicked and paralyzed Kierul gasped.

Yes, I thought you would say that too,” Erinhue said, “but the problem is, Kierul, that I just do not believe you. I think that you would say anything right now and later on change your mind. Can’t have that can we?

Erinhue pretended to think over the dilemma.

“I have it.” He finally said. “I think it would be best if you continued to be mute but I can see the advantage to have you move about under your own power. Tell you what. As long as you do not get too far away from me you will be able to see and hear and walk about and most importantly, breathe. Get more than a few yards away from me or cause us any trouble and you will be instantly returned to the condition you so recently experienced. Should that happen I will know that you cannot be trusted and therefore would really not have any incentive to alter that condition as I am now about to do.”

Suddenly Kierul saw the bard’s face very close to his. The man was smiling at him but there was no trace of amity in the expression.
"Where ever you go, there you are." - Buckaroo Bonzi

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Postby Claymore » Fri Mar 12, 2010 1:10 pm

A silence fell at their table after Erinhue left.
'What do you think Erinhue is going to propose?,'Ondine asked, sounding half-curious, half-horrified. Areej couldn't really blame her after seeing the almost malevolent grin Erinhue had worn when he had gone upstairs.
-I don't know, but we'll learn of it eventually, won't we?
She rose from her chair.
'Now, what about we get you fitted in my boy's clothes while they are busy?'she asked Ondine.
Ondine shot one last look at the room where Erinhue was making whatever offer to Kierule and then nodded. Areej picked up her pack and led the younger woman to her own room. She had not had the occasion to see it yet, but it looked clean and the linens seemed to have been freshly changed.
Respectable Inn, indeed
She gestured Ondine to the bed.
-Sit down. I'm afraid my boy's clothes are at the bottom of my pack. I haven't had to use them in a while.
Ondine sat down and watched curiously as Areej emptied her pack to reach the clothes at the bottom. The things she dug out varied from the normal to the exotic. First came a sleep-roll and some cooking gear, next some clothes that definitely looked more in place at a court than on the road. Areej caught Ondine's gaze and smiled.
'That's my dance wear, ' she said before going back to digging up the boy's clothes. After dance wear came clothes more appropriate for travelling and two curved daggers that she set apart. At last she found what she sought. The clothes consisted out of tunics large enough to hide even the most generous of curves, some knee-length robes, a sash, an over-robe, trousers just as baggy as the tunics and a head-cloth. Putting on the clothes proved not to be without difficulties and Areej was pretty sure she would have to help Ondine with the headcloth the first few days. But the end it was not a young woman from Gondor standing before her but a young nobleman from the East. She eyed Ondine critically. As she had thought, Ondine would need to darken her skin but Areej realised that she would also need a weapon. No young Easterling would chaperone his older sister without at least a dagger. She picked up the two curved daggers and tucked them in Ondine's sash so they were just visible beneath the over-robe.
'Take good care of those,'said as she patted one of the daggers.'They are my brother's daggers, and they are dear to me. I promised I would return them to him.
Ondine nodded.
-Now about the make-up...
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Postby erinhue » Wed Mar 31, 2010 7:03 am

Erinhue came down the stairs to the taproom with Kierul trailing him like an obedient hound. The man’s expression was that of one deeply shaken who had perhaps recently survived some stressful ordeal. As the two came into the room, Erinhue pulled out a straight backed chair at a nearby table and said “ Sit.” Kierul hurried to obey.

“I believe the problem of Kierul has been agreeably solved.” Erinhue announced to the wondering members of his party. “Hasn’t it Kierul?” This last was called back to the man seated at the other table. Kierul nodded vigerously.

The bard took his seat once again and smiled at the others.

“I don’t expect him to be this docile for the full length of our journey, but he will be cooperative enough. He won’t be telling any secrets either although we can always prevent him hearing anything we might not want him to.”

“I suppose we have that wretched harp of yours to thank?’ Tempest asked, already knowing the answer.

“Agarak feels the same way about you, my love.” Erinhue sweetly replied.
"Where ever you go, there you are." - Buckaroo Bonzi

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Postby PatriotBlade » Wed Mar 31, 2010 2:16 pm

Ondine watched in the mirror as Areej darkened every inch of her light, exposed skin.

"I'm afraid I don't look quite firce enough to pull this off..."

It was almost a question.
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Postby Claymore » Thu Apr 01, 2010 2:31 pm

Areej smiled at Ondine's timid statement and put comforting hands on her shoulders.
-You have had some education at the court I gather so you must have learned a bit about dancing.
A quick nod.
-Try to bear yourself as if you're dancing. Shoulders straight and back, chin up and walk on the balls of your feet.
-What does that have to do with looking fierce?
-Dancers and warriors have nearly the same attitude. If you don't know how to look like a warrior try to look like a dancer.
-Oh
-And besides I think you can look fierce of you want. Your mother was a Rohirrim and your father was a gondorian warrior, am I right?
Another shy nod.
-That's something to be proud of, so show it. Warriors are some of the proudest people I've ever met and the Rohirrim are a proud people too. If you show your pride you'd be surprised how much people you can fool.
A tremulous smile this time.
-And lastly I can show you a few tricks if you want. We girls are not as big and strong as the men but we can do things they can't either and some of them are nasty enough to keep even a big guy down.
She squeezed Ondine's shoulder a last time before letting go.
-Don't worry.
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Postby PatriotBlade » Thu Apr 01, 2010 2:55 pm

Ondine thought about what Areej said. She realized that she had already stood up to Kierule once today. She considered her strengths; speed, agility... The more she thought about it, the more she remembered.

Her Rohirrim uncles had taught her to use a lance because they didn't think she'd actually be able to do it.

Her father had taught her to handle blades of all and lengths.

She remembered her father and Rohirrim uncles bantering over fighting styles.

While thinking of what Kierule had done to her, her ire grew. She didn't have to let anyone do that to her again, and she hadn't. Her hand drifted to the hilt of one of the curved daggers and she gripped it tightly, unaware of the change that stole over her features and into her posture.

"I have not handled curved blades before and Papa told me that you fight differently with them, than with straight ones. "

Areej nodded, grinning at the now rappidly diminishing timidity of the Gondorian girl. "You want me to show you?"

Ondine nodded. "Please."
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Postby Bilbo Baggins » Thu Apr 01, 2010 10:13 pm

Bilbo walked into the inn and sat down on one the padded stools. He was growing bored and had come here for a little excitement and merry making.

"Its had been far to long since you've had an adventure Bilbo old boy" He though

"Anything for you Master? Maybe something that will cheer you up? " asked the Barman.

"No thanks Willy just a pint of strong cider, and some supper will do me fine."

The Barman went to the back and pulled out a small Keg and filled the glass to the top.

"Here you go sir" said the Barmen placing the glass in front of him.

"Anyone of interest in here tonight Willy?"

The Barmen looked around around and replied in a hushed tone " Theres been some queer folk in here of late sir, a Bard as the likes of which I have never seen before sir,if you get my meaning that is"

"Well I hope he will preform later on then, especially if you been so impressed by him"

The barman just nodded and gave Bilbo his food and left to tend to other customers.
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Postby erinhue » Sat Apr 10, 2010 8:56 pm

"I've been in one place, this place. for too long. " Erinhue announced." "Tempest, m'love, It's time ta go. "

Erinhue" Tempest snapped "stop calling me that."

"Yes my love." Erinhue replied beaming his best starlight grin. He rose quickly from the table spun and grabbed his chair. He held it between himself and Tempest's quick lunge in his direction.

"I do hate to tear myself away but I have to go to work now. Everyone has been eating and drinking and I doubt that between us we have enough coin for the bill."

He set the chair down again and called for Agarak. The dragon harp floated up to him from where it rested, at the center of the table that Kierul occupied.

"The rest of you go and gather what you need to make the journey. When ever you're ready set out on the road. When I've squared things with the innkeeper, I'll catch up to you."

Should we linger or travel slowly?" Estelmere inquired.

"No need for that" Tempest answered. "His horse is fast enough."

"Fast enough to catch up the short distance you will get before I'm done." Erinhue agreed. Agarak was hovering in front of him and now he took in hand. He went to stand at the other end of the bar, where the sound of his singing would best carry to the outside and attract customers who would be eager to linger and pay for the privilage.

A brightly merry tune tinkled from Agarak's strings. Erinhue called on the power of Mythweaver, his Ring of Power. The chunk of limestone, chipped from the base of a famous castle, began to glow dimmly. The Ring of Power could not brind down walls or produce objects from far away or from thin air. It's attributes were neither spectacular nor astounding. The ring had the subtle power to convey the mood of its bearer through the song he chose to sing. The darkness of the past days needed to be purged.

Erinhue threw his humor into his talented voice and Mythweaver magnified that sentement and emparted it to all who could hear the sound of the bard's song. His voice barely contained his desire to laugh as he began to sing
Last edited by erinhue on Sat Apr 10, 2010 9:05 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Postby erinhue » Sat Apr 10, 2010 8:57 pm

The road goes ever on and on
But take care which road you’re on
Roads tend to wander on and on
And that’s why I’m a bard

The road is ever interesting
But take care what your interest brings
Roads tend to be such chancy things
And that’s why I’m a bard.

The road brings many things your way
But take care the things that come your way
Roads tend to lead you far astray
And that’s why I’m a bard.

The road might bring a lass or two
But take care what lass comes to you
Roads often lead you there and through
And that’s why I’m a bard.

The road might lead where others quail
But take care how you tell the tale
Road stories tend to lead to ale
And that’s why I’m a bard.

OOC OK Ladies and gents that's a wrap. Time to take this puppy out for a walk, if it's going Tme to open a new thread and move this story line out of the Inn. We can discuss in the OOC.
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Postby Saruman_of_the_Istari » Sat Jun 12, 2010 4:14 am

A hooded and cloaked figure approaches the inn on horseback. He had been traveling for awhile and was to find a place to rest and gather his thoughts. He dismounted from his horse and handed his horse over to a stable boy.

The hooded and cloaked figure entered the inn and seated himself on one of the stools. He propped his staff against the table and pushed down the hood on his cloak.

A waitress came over to him.

"Would you like anything sir?"

"A pint of ale please," said the man.

The waitress left to get his ale. When she returned with his ale, he thanked her. As he was sipping his ale, he glanced around the inn. He did not see anyone that he knew or knew him.
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Postby Arassuil » Thu Sep 02, 2010 6:13 pm

Dawnae smiled at the newcomer and asked,

"Would you like anything sir?"

"A pint of ale please,"
he said.

"A pint flagon of House!" she called out as she turned. Touron had it filling immediately.

The place was quiet this night, in fact, after events from a couple weeks ago, most anything would be quiet. It was a good thing it was quiet too, for Branae had failed to show up for work after a day, and so he was forced to hire someone else. A notice was nailed to the post by the door a few day ago...

Serving Maid needed. Room and board provided. Pay depends on experience and tips, though no experience necessary.

A couple young local lasses had asked about the job, but Touron could see them getting chewed up and spat out within weeks. One shapely, buxom brunette who was in last night seemed to be the best to apply so far. Yet, he would wait and see if anymore interest was shown.

Dauril had stayed at the inn for a couple weeks now, and had taken work with one of the King's city renovation teams. They were excavating ruins of the old fortress on the west side, looking for any remains of descendants who were killed when the city was overrun in 1974 of the last age. They were hoping to find any scrolls, books parchments, that could be read as well, for the old repository was believed to be in taht area. Much had been removed from the Library of Annuminas when it was abandoned, and was held in store here. But so thorough was the ruin, that this place earned the name of Deadman's Dike in the deserted years. Little could be found when evil was finally driven out, but there are some historians from Gondor who still held hope something may be found.

So it was that Dauril rested by the hearth. The old chair by the wall there had become his regular spot since his arrival. He had good vantage of the common room, and enjoyed watching the doings of the people as they came and went. He took not of the one why came in with a staff. Dawnae seemed to like him, but she was friendly that way. She made good tips. She carried the flagon of ale back to the table and set it down, letting the head slide down the side slightly.

"Anything else I can get you kind sir?"

she said. Dauril called out,

"You can bring me another one of those... when you get a chance of course."

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

(OOC: Didn't mean to crush the great creative writing here. Hope you continue your tale in a new thread)
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Postby Arassuil » Sun Jun 19, 2011 8:13 pm

Nobody was sure how it happened, but it happened. Apparently something got too close to the cook-fire in the kitchen, setting ablaze some cloth and oil. The old timbers, already soaked with the ages of fats from all the cooking, ignited and burned hard. Touron, trying to get a moments rest, awoke to the smell of smoke and quickly rushed to where it was coming from. Fortunately there were few guests at the inn, so when he sounded a bell to awake everyone they were quick to get out of their rooms with as much as they could carry of their belongings.

Dauril paused a moment to see if the fire could be extinguished, but it had well engulfed the kitchen and the timbers of the door frame were starting to burn. He hurried everyone down and hoped everyone had gotten out, for the flames spread and the heat and smoke was getting unbearable.

It was Dawnae who he heard still in the hall, but she came bursting through the wall of flame saying everyone was out. Her face was blackened with soot, and her dress was smouldering. Dauril grabbed a bucket of beer that was on the bar and threw it on her to extinguish the embers and the flame that was burning up from her hem. He then quickly followed her out as they coughed, the flames and waves of heat chasing them through the door.

Out on the street, there was little to be done. The fire marshals were there and directing the water bucket lines to quench nearby structures. Also, rain started to fall making a spotted hissing sound on the burning roof. It collapsed in a shower of sparks.

The next day, all that remained of the Shroud of Varda Inn was the stonework shell, blackened and crumbling. Touron threw his hands up in despair as the Inn was a total loss. Dauril wished him well, and gave him a small bag of silver, for he had lost everything.

”Farewell my friend. May you find peace and I wish you well in any new venture you may take up.”

Dauril mounted his horse and was setting to ride out of the city. Daw3nae came up to him, still in her tattered clothing, and said,

”I have no work here, and nothing to keep me here. May I ride with you?”

Dauril said,

”No. I ride alone m’lady.”

Maybe it was her eyes, or the way she looked right then and there, for Dauril offered her a hand, and she mounted his house behind him. He said,

”Ok, I’ll take you as far as Bree. You should be able to find work there.”

And they rode out of the city gates and disappeared into the misty grey of the morning, the smell of burnt wood heavy in the air.
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