The Merry Bowmen of Dale III - Toy Turmoil in Dale

The varied peoples of Middle-earth at times found unity in their pursuits, and all too often experienced deep rifts. Engage in lively conversations as we banter about the differences between the Alliances, and recruit for our People as well. Remember, keep it friendly.

Postby Frelga » Fri Sep 18, 2009 12:33 am

Good luck with the shooting!

"Very impressive," Frelga called out, as she appeared out of... some entrance that her Writer forgot to describe. She was licking the last crumbs of a meringue off her lips. "Cookies, ladies... and Scribbles?" the blond woman offered, catching herself just in time. "And then maybe I'll give this shooting trick another try. How does it go? Ready, fire, aim, isn't it?" That didn't sound right, but no matter. Frelga new she could never match the brilliant shooting Mistress Archer showed them just now.
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Postby Canamarth » Fri Sep 18, 2009 1:25 am

"Great to see you, too, Frelga! Though I suggest we do not set fire to anything just yet. We might think about that once this guildhouse needs a replacement but it is still in mint condition." Just then a mischievous wooden tile slid off the roof and landed on the verandah with a crash. Oi scurried out of the house and inspected the damage. He signed something to the Mistress Archer who turned back to her guests. "Um, ... Ignore that. Let's shoot!" She knocked another arrow and concentrated real hard this time.


Thanks, Frelga. I make sure to post you on my proceedings next week. :)
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Postby shaggydog » Sat Sep 19, 2009 1:28 pm

*jaw drops*

People are posting in here???? :Q

Who hoo! :clap:
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Postby Canamarth » Mon Sep 21, 2009 5:19 am

Hey there, shaggydog, long time no see/read. :hug:

And - all the archers are still alive and I mostly hit the mark. :D



While Canamarth finally managed to hit the target she was actually aiming at, a huge shaggy dog slowly trotted around the corner of the guildhouse and stopped in his tracks when he saw the amount of people practicing on the range. As his jaw openend in surprise, he let go of a juicy bone that Oi had given him in the kitchen. The little thud made the archers' heads turn.

"Bril!" the Mistress Archer shouted. "Glad to see you haven't abandoned us during our latest silent spell."
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Postby rwhen » Tue Sep 22, 2009 1:22 pm

rwhen had been sleeping in the warmed sun and all the good food had gone to her head. She had dreams of running through the tall wheat fields and meeting with long lost friends. When she awoke, she found that Bril was still there. The Mistress of this guild was in a shooting posture. Scribbles and Frelga had joined the scene. Things were yet again picking up.


"Hullo friends. Seems I was sleeping for a very long time. All this food is only good for one thing, so I think I shall appoint myself ground crew and get some fresh food started."

As she hummed along with the clean up process, a furry creature was trotting along beside her, tongue lolling out of a wide maw. "If you are here to help, then by all means your help would be appreciated. If you are here to fill that bottomless pit of a stomach of yours, see if you can keep your wits long enough to scare me up a few fresh chickens." She eyeballed Bril, who enthusiastically set off for the chicken coop.

"I WANT THEM IN ONE PIECE, NO MISSING PARTS!!!" she called after the diminishing tail. "Ladies!!" The trio turned to wave at rwhen. "Fresh food soon, work up an appetite!!"

The kitchen was in remarkable shape. Oi had been busy keeping the bins full of fresh fruit and veg, there were oils and herbs and seasonings of every sort about. From somewhere in her head a stirring memory of someone's birthday came to mind.

"Yes, Old Bilbo and Frodo!! I shall make baked stuffed chickens and a potato, mushroom, bacon fry to go with it. That is if Bril makes it back with the chickens in one piece. Then baked apples for dessert." As she gathered the necessary pots and pans, she gazed out the window, no sign of Bril, yet.
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The Expected Party!! is now on the road to Gondor to celebrate. Join us.

And getting into trouble with Rally The Eldar.

Time out of Mind, forever bound to my Knight Ayslhyn

Vanadarlin', my SSOTH - 143 forever :hug:
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Postby Canamarth » Wed Sep 23, 2009 1:05 am

Canamarth rejoiced at seeing rwhen also waking from her slumbers. When the lady walked off to do her magic in the kitchen, the Mistress Archer took a long look at the guildhouse, enveloped in the late summer sun, took in the view down towards Dale and the Lonely Mountain and also took a long deep breath of the cool fresh breeze from the forest. "It's great to be back in stride," she muttered, turned and released an arrow which hit the target dead centre. The target she had actually been aiming at. Life is great!

Glad to have you all in here. :)
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Postby shaggydog » Wed Sep 23, 2009 1:31 pm

Bril loped effortlessly along, around the guild house and back to the spacious chicken coop. His nosed twitched as the rich aroma of feathers tickled and tugged at it. How nice it would be to simply gallop in and swing his huge head from side to side, snatching up three or four of the lovely ladies of chickendom, chomping as he went. But what had rwhen said? No missing parts? Something like that. With a massive sigh, the wolf braked and slid to a stop. A tad more finesse was called for here. He had of course approached the coop soundlessly and from upwind, so the birds clucked and pecked unknowingly about the well scratched yard. Dropping into a crouch, Bril sorted and selected within his canine brain, and, quicker than a human can blink, he was off at a dead silent run. Before the first four hens knew it, they were already at peace with Eru, their heads hanging limply, their bodies like small, broken dust mops. Assuming his human form once more, Bril stooped and gathered the four soon-to-be roast chickens and trotted with them in his arms to the kitchen.

With a grin, he laid them on the wooden table where rwhen was busy sorting out the ingredients she would need for this proposed mini-feast. "You won't find even a feather missing, my lady." He said smugly, nodding at his victims.

Rwhen gave the hens a cursory glance, then shoved them to the side of the table so they wouldn't lay up against her fresh vegetables. "You do clean work, my friend." She said, then added with a grin of her own, "Now go remove all those feathers and when you're done bring them back."

With an exasperated sigh, Bril took his marching orders, waiting until he was outside once more to grumble something about never, ever, being able to understand females.



Yay! How are you Canamarth? Yes, long time indeed :hug:
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Postby Canamarth » Thu Sep 24, 2009 12:09 am

A ripping noise made Canamarth turn. She found Bril, this time in human shape, perched on the bench behind the guildhouse. He seemed a little preoccupied with his thoughts while plucking the feathers off some Esgarothian hens. "Keep the wing feathers," Canamarth called. "They make good fletching for our arrows."


I'm alright, shaggydog. Thanks for asking. A bit hectic at work with the semester having just started but I manage to find some time off for browsing the forums. :)
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Postby rwhen » Thu Sep 24, 2009 8:00 am

Humming along in time to the choppity choppity clicking of the knife hitting the wooden block, rwhen was in fine spirits. The apples were cored and stuffed with creamy fresh butter and brown sugar, sprinkled on the top with cinnamon, she shoved them in the oven to get a good start on the rest of the meal.

Locating a large steel skillet, she poured some olive oil in to start heating for the bacon, potato and mushroom hash.

"BRILLLLLLLLLL!!! You have those chickens for me?" No answer. She rounded the back of the guildhouse and found Canamarth savings feathers for fletching and Bril looking disgruntled. "Hey, Canamarth, I hadn't thought to save the feathers, maybe we should have found some grouse or pheasant instead?"

"Another time, for now these will do just fine." She had a double handful already.

"Bril, after you are finished with this, why not go and chase some squirrels before supper?" She smiled trying to show how grateful she was that he was helping her at all, when she knew the urge to eat the chickens was great upon the dire wolf. "I promise that I will call you before the food hits the table."

Bril shot up and half loped off towards the grove where the squirrels hang out and turned wolfish halfway there. Canamarth and rwhen laughed and finished the plucking job.

Back in the kitchen, the hens were massaged, seasoned and stuffed with rice, apples and sausage, then basted in melted butter and put in the oven. The bacon was added to the now sizzling pan and the dinner was well underway.

:D:D:D

hope everyone is hungry....thanks Shaggy, as ever for being my friend and putting up with my shananigans
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Love is as big or as little as a hug!!

vison! Alex!Rowanberry!

I will always treasure and remember your appreciation. Thank you. -2007 WCA's
Overwhelmed by your support and appreciation. Thank you. - 2008 WCA's

The Expected Party!! is now on the road to Gondor to celebrate. Join us.

And getting into trouble with Rally The Eldar.

Time out of Mind, forever bound to my Knight Ayslhyn

Vanadarlin', my SSOTH - 143 forever :hug:
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Postby shaggydog » Thu Sep 24, 2009 8:47 pm

rwhen wrote: . . . the hens were massaged


:love:

Those birds have all the luck :roll:

Where can I get some of that??? :whistle:

:angel:
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Postby SilverScribe » Thu Sep 24, 2009 9:13 pm

:shock: Shaggydog!! How wonderful to see you again . . . glad you've found your way back. Just in time for MoME, I see . . . =:)

And Frelga and Mom! wow . . .




Scribbles' face remained impassive as she watched the Mistress Archer make a few initial, less than perfect shots and then find her stride and the bullseye both. She grinned as Frelga strolled up and then laughed outright as rwhen and shaggydog appeared. "Seems like the sound of archery will still bring them running," she remarked, then turned towards the butts after rwhen had strolled off the Guildhouse with shaggydog in tow.

Reaching over her shoulder, she drew a silver and blue fletched arrow and nocked it. With the ease of centuries of practice, she smoothly drew back on the large elven longbow and and fired, then made a soft sound of disgust as an errant afternoon breeze pushed her shaft just wide of the bullseye. "Dang, forgot to account for wind drift," she grumbled.

:D:D:D
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Postby shaggydog » Thu Sep 24, 2009 9:18 pm

*jumps up, planting one huge paw on each of Scribbles' shoulders*

*huge sloppy lick to face*

WOOF!

:D
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Postby Canamarth » Fri Sep 25, 2009 2:11 am

I hope he let go of the squirrels first ... :D

shaggydog wrote:
rwhen wrote: . . . the hens were massaged


:love:

Those birds have all the luck :roll:

Where can I get some of that??? :whistle:

:angel:


Exactly my thoughts on the subject. :)

And it's 11:11 am over here and I am soooo hungry now!



"Oh, yes, the winds can be drifty and shifty around here, " Canamarth nodded wisely. Internally, she was glad to find that even elven archers with centuries of practice did not have a perfect aim all the time. So, it wasn't just a mortal phenomenon due to lack of time for practice. These things just happend.
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Postby shaggydog » Fri Sep 25, 2009 6:41 am

Canamarth wrote:I hope he let go of the squirrels first ... :D



er . . . nope. :whistle:
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Postby Canamarth » Fri Sep 25, 2009 6:59 am

Poor Scribbles.


Have a nice weekend you all!
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Postby Bardhwyn » Fri Sep 25, 2009 8:20 am

Meanwhile, deep below in a dwarven tunnel carved in rock and leading to the Bowmen's Guildhall...

Easing her way through the dark, Bardhwyn held out one hand and scuffled slowly over what felt like hard rock floor covered with a fine layer of dirt. It was pitch black but she knew eventually she'd come to a door leading from the spare armaments hold and hopefully by it a candle stub and a flint box.

It amazed her she remembered the location of the Guildhall's tunnel entrance, and was even more amazed to find in unobstructed and passable. The spare key was even in the same place.

Her foot hit an object. She leaned over and felt the thing cautiously. It was a broken spear shaft. She found the iron head nearby, still sharp. Both dropped when they escaped from the Guildhouse that fateful day, oh so long ago. She tried to remember more but so much had passed since those days. All she recalled was frantic rush through the dark and into the air. She'd reached the secret armaments hold; a large room cut from the rock - nothing more.

The Archer pressed on and finally arrived at a wall but the shelf there was empty; no candle or flint box. Cautious once more, she felt her way to a door handle. She lifted the latch and opened. The door protested with a sharp metallic squeal but it gave way. A murky light spilled into the room before her, fed from a small window high up at what was ground level. Bardhwyn groaned. Along with shelves of wrapped and box cheeses, dried herbs, and other foodstuffs high on the wall opposite she could also make out a stack of barrels piled on their side ending at eye level directly in front of her. Such were the hazards of creating a 'hidden' door. Things get piled up against it. She threw her belongings through the gap offered, found a toe hold and began to climb, squeezing herself through and cursing the dwarf stewards for their handiwork.

"First thing to do, move these barr...AH!"

The ground met her fast. A slow creak of wood made her look up in time to see a barrel, dislodged by her fall, teeter towards her. She dodged. It fell. It broke open.

It was a full bodied Dorwinion red, easily ten years old.

Her boots made a wet, squelching sound as she made her way up the cellar stair, into the main hall and to the main stair case. A trail of wine splatters followed her as she walked. The Archer met a wide-eyed dwarf half way up the stair.

"We'd noo expect t'a see you, Archer!" he cooed. "Special dispensation to be back, have ye?"

"Aye, special dispensation by orders of the Mistress Archer. Keep it quiet, though. I don't want any 'interesting' developments while I'm here, eh?" Bardhwyn replied.

The dwarf nodded. "Aye, no intrestin' developments, aye." He sniffed as she passed. "And what 'appened? You're drenched in wine!"

"I had a tussle with a wine barrel and the barrel won. Not a complete loss," she held up large pitcher for the dwarf to see, "I saved some of it. You may want to send someone down to clean up the wine cellar." She stopped at the landing and inspected a large water stain snaking its way down the plaster. "This place needs a little attention." The Archer looked called down to the dwarf. "I still have a room here? Right? You haven't put my things in storage, have you?"

"Aye, ye have a room, Archer, that ye do," the dwarf replied with a chuckle. "We've not touched a single thing." He began to descend the stair. "Why, any one of y'ese could appear at the front door right noo, the FRONT door mind, and y'ed find your rooms, your clothes, everything as you'd left 'em. Why, the Master Archer's fuzzy pink slippers are still under his bed, they are. And I won't mention what Themedes left in his closet, no."

Bardhwyn stood at the landing looking down over the rail at the slowly descending dwarf and swallowed hard. "Damn, I hope they didn't open my bedside table drawer."

[ I'll get her out to the archery field once she'd had a wash. ;) ]
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Postby rwhen » Fri Sep 25, 2009 1:32 pm

The perfume scented air smelled of baked apples, but as rwhen was taking them from the oven she heard an enormous clatter down below, coming from a basement it would seem. Oi was talking to someone and if the food didn't need constant attention, she would have gone to check for herself. Footsteps up the stairs and a door closing behind alerted the elf that someone had come again to the Guild House and by a rather indirect route.

"One more place setting for supper it is," the lady tossed the blanched potato's into the now crispy bacon and added appropriate seasonings. A fresh green salad of spinach and a goats milk cheese was cooling and bread was toasted and put in baskets. "Oi!!"

The dwarf had disappeared down the stairs and rwhen had to go half the way down to get his attention. "What happened?" She saw that he was cleaning something moist off the floor.

"Nothin' ta be worryin' over. Wha' can I be doin' for ya?"

"I should think we need to broach some of the finest red you have. It seems we have a guest."

"Aye, but that be no stranger, rwhen. She be known 'bout these parts." Oi laughed to himself and the elf made her way back to the kitchen wondering about who was coming to supper. No time now, the hash needed the mushrooms and all would be about complete. Stirring the sizzling dish, she last added a swirl of olive oil and some fresh cut basil and turned it into a large serving dish.

The hens were bursting with juices as they were set to rest on the stovetop. All places were set at the large wooden oak table. Flagons, cloth strips for cleaning hands and face, cold well water with sliced lemons in ornate metal jugs at either end of the table. The center was adorned with a pine cone stack and pine branches surrounding them.

Rwhen checked and double checked all food product and was happy with the outcome. She only hoped that everyone else was ready to eat.

"COME AND GET IT!!!!"

Bril wasted no time running at full speed towards the kitchen. Seeing the dire wolf and knowing Bril, she called out the window. "You slow down and be sure to wash your face and hands. We have proper people sharing the table tonight. You want to make a good impression."

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

welcome back on thread Bardy. You bring many shades of the past with your posting. Great to have you in time for food.
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Love is as big or as little as a hug!!

vison! Alex!Rowanberry!

I will always treasure and remember your appreciation. Thank you. -2007 WCA's
Overwhelmed by your support and appreciation. Thank you. - 2008 WCA's

The Expected Party!! is now on the road to Gondor to celebrate. Join us.

And getting into trouble with Rally The Eldar.

Time out of Mind, forever bound to my Knight Ayslhyn

Vanadarlin', my SSOTH - 143 forever :hug:
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Postby Canamarth » Mon Sep 28, 2009 2:22 am

I should stop reading rwhen's posts in here just before the midday break ... :roll:

Bardhwyn! :hug: Glad I could lure you back. :)

Finally managed to unpack the straw target I bought a while back and actually did a bit of archery yesterday. On a fresh mown meadow in a clearing. Surrounded by nothing but nature. It was grand.



While Canamarth, Scribbles and Frelga were getting better at hitting the centres of their targets, a delicious smell started wafting over from the guildhouse. The Mistress Archer's stomach started rumbling loudly just as she released another arrow. It barely hit the target. "Alright, that's it," she said and unstrung her bow. "No one can concentrate with ..."

"COME AND GET IT!!!!"

Bril bounded around the corner and was about to enter the guildhouse via the verandah door. Someone seemed to be holding him up, though. Canamarth sauntered back herself, smiling as she saw rwhen making sure the great wolf turned back into human shape before entering the guild hall. Inside, the great oaken table was laid out with piles of delicious food and nice decorations. The Mistress Archer clasped her hands together. "We should always have an elf in the kitchen." She grabbed rwhen and hugged her tightly. "Thank you so much! And I am glad to have so many wonderful guests here today."

Before Canamarth could break into more of a speech, Oi stomped in and unceremoniously set down a jug full of their best Dorwinion red. "Great choice, Oi. Never would have thought you'd open the barrel without consulting me first, though." Oi looked a little flustered, openened his mouth as if to start an explanation, then just shook his head and left. "He's the strangest dwarf sometimes ..."
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Postby Bardhwyn » Mon Sep 28, 2009 9:11 am

It was as Oi said, her room was untouched. The bed, nightstand, chair were just as she’d left them. The thin curtains were even the same. To her surprise there was fresh water in the pitcher on the washstand and a fresh towel hung by its finely turned rail. She dropped her saddlebags, swordbelt and her carefully wrapped bow and quiver on the bed and walked around to the wardrobe. The doors pulled open easily and Bardhwyn took it its musty, cedar aroma. On a rail, to the right hung the Dale blue gown Canamarth had lent her, so many years ago.

“I thought I returned that,” Bardhwyn said with a smile. Lifting its hanger from the rail, she held the long dress up against her and turned to see her reflection in the mirror on the inside of the wardrobe’s door. She was confident it would still fit but she’d never look as young again.

So many memories. Bardhwyn wore the dress the night of the Guild feast, the night she revealed her traitor’s brand to Lysandros. There was much more she wanted to tell him that night….

“Too many memories,” Bardhwyn whispered wistfully. She replaced the gown and pulled open the drawers, and after much rifling and grumbling, pulled out a pair of leather trousers, some hose, a shirt and deep green tunic trimmed with blue and gold stitching and luckily a belt.

“And boots… please, tell me I have an extra pair of…”, she spotted them under the bed and held them aloft. “Boots!”

Freshly washed and dressed, and with slightly damp hair, Bardhwyn emerged from her room on the second floor and paused. Across the hall was Menon’s room, the Rohirrim who rode with the Bowmen into the East and who had saved her life on more than one occasion. In fairness, she had saved his once or twice as well. She opened the door and peered inside. Like her own, it was undisturbed but clearly unlived in.

“I wonder where you are, horseboy?” she wondered aloud. “On some Corsair ship? You’ll come to hate it,” she said with a shake of her head, “like you did before.” She shut the door quietly and turned towards the stair, surprised at the tightness she suddenly felt in her chest. Bardhwyn paused and rested one hand on the balustrade. If she was going to make this little return visit worthwhile, she was going to have to let the past stay in the past.

“COME AND GET IT!!”

The Archer was pulled from her reverie and it was then her nose took in the wonderful aromas of good, cooked FOOD!

“Food?!!” she cried, skipping down the wide, grand stair. With four quick strides she cleared the wide entrance way and skidded to a stop before the doors to the main hall.

“You can blame me for the wine, Mistress Archer,” Bardhwyn called out as she strolled into the room, “I thought the occasion warranted it!”




I so much want to take up archery - and I tried, I wrote to three different groups here in Cambridge and didn't receive a single reply!! Oh well, when the student is ready, the teacher will come. :)
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Postby rwhen » Mon Sep 28, 2009 10:39 am

Bardy, I will assume that we haven't met yet and that you have a good appetite. Everyone else, get yerself in your seats. Food is on.


As she carved the hens and neatly displayed them on a sliver platter, she could hear the chairs scraping on the wooden floor as they were pulled from the large table. "Must hurry," she muttered to herself. She looked down and noticed that her apron was water stained, but that was the worst of it. Her hands found the kerchief that she had wrapped about her head and she pulled it off shaking her tresses into place. Smoothing down her peasants dress one final time. She put on a smile and backed through the doors into the main hall tray in hands.

Bril was standing to the side, his hair dripping from the quick dowse of water, three ladies, including the Guild Mistress were almost to the door and a person that rwhen had never met before was at the entrance to the hall. She looked travel worn, a sadness played about her eyes, but otherwise seemed hale.

"Good day, my name is rwhen. Was it you I heard coming up from the basement earlier?"

The stranger relieved rwhen of the tray and sat it at the end of the table. Before she could speak, the Guild Mistress entered and time stood still. No one spoke.

"Okay then, obviously you folks know each other. I shall fetch the rest of the food, please be seated. Bril?" Rwhen crooked a finger, indicating that he should follow her back to the kitchen.

Once there, she spoke closely to the dire wolf, "Do you know who that is?"

"Nope, not a clue. But you and I got here not that long ago as time flows I reckon." Bril was mentally counting the months since they had arrived. When he started to remove his shoes to count his toes, rwhen stopped him.

"Not that important, Bril. Will you help me take out the rest of the food?"

"For you? Anything." She caught something in his eyes that she had not noticed before. Glassy and rounder. Then his face reddened. He took up a tray of assorted cheese and sliced fruit in one hand and a bowl that had some succulent white sauce in the other and started for the door.

"Let's wait a moment and give this stranger a chance to reacquaint herself with the others. I do not know if her return is foul or fair." Bril stood with his hands full and rwhen took up a tray with sliced roast beef in one hand and a silver pitcher of lovely gravy in the other. They waited.
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Love is as big or as little as a hug!!

vison! Alex!Rowanberry!

I will always treasure and remember your appreciation. Thank you. -2007 WCA's
Overwhelmed by your support and appreciation. Thank you. - 2008 WCA's

The Expected Party!! is now on the road to Gondor to celebrate. Join us.

And getting into trouble with Rally The Eldar.

Time out of Mind, forever bound to my Knight Ayslhyn

Vanadarlin', my SSOTH - 143 forever :hug:
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Postby SilverScribe » Mon Sep 28, 2009 9:27 pm

Hah! The Scribe is no lady . . . ;)

I'd love to take up archery again, but it's very difficult to find that here in the winter, which is the only time I really have time . . . *sigh*


Scribbles coughed and grabbing the squirrels, lobbed them into the long grass to one side of the archery field. She fixed the big direwolf with a baleful glare, then burst out laughing as he hung his head in a wretched and poor attempt to pretend he was sorry. "You get one free one," she admonished him. "After that, you feel the flat of my blade on your dire behind, capice?"

After a few more rounds at the butts with Frelga and the Mistress Archer, (and with much better results for them all), she heard a loud voice calling out over the fields . . . " COME AND GET IT!" She grinned at Frelga and the Mistress Archer as they retrieved their last round of arrows and headed for the Guildhouse. "About time, I've been smelling something incredibly delicious for at least an hour!"

shaggydog loped on ahead and by the time they arrived at the Guildhouse, he had shifted to human form to clean up. Scribbles was just reaching for a chair when someone entered from the hall and addressed Canamarth. Instead of sittiing down Scribbles clamped her jaw tight, leaned one hand on the back of the chair and wondered what other surprises might be in store.
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Postby Canamarth » Tue Sep 29, 2009 1:50 am

Have you tried the student's union, Bardhwyn? I remember that they had all sorts of activities and societies in Bradford, including an archery club. And if lowly Bradford has some such, I guess venerable Cambridge simply must have one. ;) They had regular training sessions and people could just turn up.

Archery in winter time isn't that easy, I guess, Scribbles. My longbow certainly does not like the cold so I don't go out shooting when the temperatures drop below 10° C.



Moving towards the table, Canamarth saw that it had been set for six. Bril, Frelga, rwhen, the Scribe, and the Guild Mistress - only made five. She was about to ask rwhen if another guest had arrived when someone stepped through the main door and took the blame for serving the Dorwinion red. It was fortunate that Canamarth did not hold anything in her hands because she most certainly would have dropped it.

There she stood, Bardhwyn of Dale. Refreshed and newly dressed but still travelworn around the edges. It had been years. Canamarth carefully walked over to her, as if trying not to disperse the illusion. "It's really you?" A smile started to blossom on her lips and she proceeded to embrace Bardhwyn so tightly that a few ribs creaked. "Where have you ... what have you ... how have you been ... Oh, let's sit down and eat before it gets cold. But a full mouth does not excuse Bardhwyn from telling us about her travels."
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Postby rwhen » Tue Sep 29, 2009 8:17 am

Those were the words that rwhen had been waiting to hear. "Fair, not foul at all, Bril. Let's get this food to the table before my wrist breaks under the weight of this beef platter.

When they swung through the doors, the women were still standing, but the level of comfort was starting to return. Bril set his platter down half on and half off the table, he sloshed the contents of the sour cream and onion mixture which spilled when it hit the table. Rwhen gracefully centered the platter and placed the gravy close by, then mopped up the spilled sauce with a practiced hand and smile as she moved the cheese platter securely on the table.

"Please, everyone, take your seats. Many meetings are always better with good food to celebrate the return of one lost." She nodded to the one the Guild Mistress addressed. "There should be all manner of food to delight even the most stubborn eaters. Should you require anything more, do not hesitate in the asking. It seems that Oi has a well stocked......well everything." Her silver and soft laugh came easily. Bril was the first to be seated, never shy when it came to a meal, he began piling on the food.

Rwhen retreated to the kitchen for the last of the victuals for the feast.

I am hesitant to actually start this thing until the greetings have been made. So anytime you want to actually dig in, go for it.
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Love is as big or as little as a hug!!

vison! Alex!Rowanberry!

I will always treasure and remember your appreciation. Thank you. -2007 WCA's
Overwhelmed by your support and appreciation. Thank you. - 2008 WCA's

The Expected Party!! is now on the road to Gondor to celebrate. Join us.

And getting into trouble with Rally The Eldar.

Time out of Mind, forever bound to my Knight Ayslhyn

Vanadarlin', my SSOTH - 143 forever :hug:
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Postby Frelga » Tue Sep 29, 2009 11:45 am

Frelga was quite happy with her shooting. She usually was, provided the arrows flew in the general direction of the target. Scribe and Mistress Archer outshot her easily, and the Rohan woman was happy to hear the call for food for more reason than one.

Bardy's arrival caused Frelga to freeze as her Writer scrambled to figure out if the two of them have met. She remembered the party onboard the Corsair ship, and herself as a starstruck newcomer. Naturally things had gone all wrong and Bardy was snatched by nefarious thugs. Have they met since?

Fortunately, there was time to think as Mistress Archer rushed forward to greet the long lost friend. Frelga sniffed into a lacy handkerchief. "This is so touching," she whispered to rwhen.
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Postby Bardhwyn » Tue Sep 29, 2009 12:27 pm

Bardhwyn allowed The Mistress Archer to usher her towards the table, feeling confident the woman had cracked one of her ribs, and took in the familiar and not so familiar faces and the one face that was particular hard set.

"I will tell as much as I am able, I promise," Bardhwyn said with a smile, "to some it will be old news but in truth I am more interested in listening than in telling. Please, sit and eat everyone."

The Archer walked around the table to where the Scribe stood, trying to decide with each step what to bloody say. Her writer, in typical fashion, hasn't made it easy for her.

She held out her hand, fully aware she may withdraw it with every bone in it broken.
"The Guildhall is traditionally considered neutral ground," Bardhwyn said. "Almost a sanctuary, of sorts. Truce?"
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Postby shaggydog » Wed Sep 30, 2009 2:20 am

Bril, typically, was aware of the newcomer only on a gutteral level. His canine senses had picked up her presence well before she appeared above cellar. His ears had told him, though, that she had a non-threatening discourse with Oi. Satisfied that, whoever she was, she posed no threat, his senses had refocused on the literally mouthwatering smells coming from the kitchen. Drooling slightly, he had been happy to help rwhen when asked, both for the opportunity to steal at least one slice of beef while her back was turned, and, well . . . because any excuse to spend time with her was fine with him.

Later, that feeling of pleasure which her company provided him might be a cause for concern. Now, however, it was all he could do to keep from tearing into the beef and chicken, no hands needed. With great effort, he restrained himself until rwhen gave the word. Without bothering to notice what the others might be discussing, Bril tucked in ravenously, using the best table manners he could muster, for rwhen's sake. The others were quite slow at seating themselves and decorously helping themselves to the food. Bril took a moment to glance at rwhen. Swallowing a huge mouthful, he grinned, winked, and said "Great spread, rwhen! You've outdone yourself. Can you toss me some cheese?"
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Postby Canamarth » Wed Sep 30, 2009 5:07 am

Canamarth amusedly watched Bril digging in. "That's a man ... wolf ... whatever after my liking," she said while nudging the person in question in the ribs. "Not standing on ceremony*, just filling the stomach to heart's content. rhwen, I think that's a great compliment on your cooking." She grabbed a chicken leg and dug in herself.

While the flavour of the wonderfully tender meat and the crispy skin hit her tastebuds, she saw Bardhwyn walking up to the Scribe and offering her hand in some sort of token of peace. Canamarth did not have the slightest clue what they had been quarelling about, but she sure would not stand for any animosity between her friends in the guildhouse. "If I don'd shee you shaking zat hand, Shcribe," she said with her mouth still mostly filled, "I promish you won'd ged any of zish here delishish shicken."



* not that there was any ceremony involved when it came to feasting in the Bowmen's guildhouse
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Postby SilverScribe » Wed Sep 30, 2009 12:04 pm

ooc: Oh, I'd be shooting indoors Canamarth, but you're right it's the transporting of the bow to and from that would worry me. Maybe I'll put a bug in a few ears at a few "sport" centres, you just never know . . . ;)

ROFL Frelga! 'sniffs into a lacy handkerchief' indeed . . . won't ever catch the Scribe with one of those . . . hmmmmm . . . now there's a thought for some hiliarity in Reckoning . . . =:)


ic:

Scribbles watched the Archer of Dale approach with mixed feelings. At least, that's what she chose to label the extreme jumble of confused vibes she was getting from her writer. What on earth was wrong with that scatterbrained mortal and her even bigger scatterwit of a muse? Why couldn't that pair of twits just write straight action and leave off all the emotional crap and baggage? Without knowing it, both the Archer and the Mistress Archer herself summed up an instant solution, and she felt her writer take a huge breath of relief.

The Scribe took Bardhwyn's hand firmly, but was extra careful not to squeeze too hard. "Aye, a sanctuary, no truer words were ever spoken, thank the Valar." She added a warm smile and motioned to a chair. "Shall we?" They sat and as Scribbles handed a platter of sliced beef to Bardhwyn, she smiled down the table at Canamarth. "That's mean you know," she said with mock hostility. "You know roast squab is my absolute favourite and denying me a taste is downright cruel."

"It's only your favourite because it's the only thing you can cook on the trail without ruining," Bardhwyn added with a chuckle. Scribbles laughed. "Unlike my coffee, eh?"

At Bril's mystefied look, Scribbles elaborated. "I'm not much of a cook, my methods are pretty much limited to 'kill, skin or pluck, skewer on a stick and place over fire.' But my coffee, ah, now that's . . . "

"Fit only to maim your friends and quickly and surely kill your enemies stone dead," Bardhwyn interrupted. "Or, strip the paint off old boats right nicely."

Scribbles grinned as Frelga handed her the platter of roast chicken that Canamarth had passed down the table. "Well, if you're going to make something, you might as well make it substantial," she said, then looked at rwhen. "Lady rwhen, I agree with Bril here, you have outdone yourself, thank you from the bottom of my very hungry heart. Now, will someone be kind enough to pass me some of that heady-smelling hash with mushrooms."

:D:D:D
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Postby shaggydog » Wed Sep 30, 2009 1:33 pm

"I'm not much of a cook, my methods are pretty much limited to 'kill, skin or pluck, skewer on a stick and place over fire.' But my coffee, ah, now that's . . . "

Bril nodded at the Scribe, as if in understanding. But, truth be told, he preferred the food preparation technique which ended at about that first word, "kill". Not that he didn't appreciate all of rwhen's efforts. In human form, the added touches of removing the feathers, and having the beef in pieces instead of the whole carcass, was a bit more convenient . . . and less messy. There was nothing to compare, however, with the tang of hot blood on the tongue and the squelch of raw muscle between one's teeth. And the bones . . . . !!!

Of course, that style of dining did put something of a damper on pleasant conversation, not to mention the benefit of the consumption of large amounts of ale. With a huge sigh of happiness, Bril concluded, not for the first time, that he was blessed, at least in this respect, with the best of both worlds.
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Postby Canamarth » Thu Oct 01, 2009 5:54 am

"Feast away, my merry friends!"


I'll have to leave the scene for a bit of Tolkien Society fun this weekend but should be back by the middle of next week. Just assume Canamarth is munching away till she's fit to burst. :)
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