Thread: The Khazad-dumish Inn.. Please watch your head coming through the door.
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Ice glanced at Etharion as he mentioned a fireball, for she too had heard something...Shrugging it off as her adventurous mind playing tricks on her, Ice jumped as Selen roared outside, and came barreling through the inn's door. The massive cat pounced on Ice and starting a series of meows and slight roars, conversing with her master. "Selen! What's the prob-WHAT?!" Ice yelped, then summoned her strength and shoved the huge cat off her, allowing herself to think, and breathe. She glanced at Etharion and the other patrons of the inn, saying, "I do believe you DID hear a fireball, or explosion...fire of some sort. Selen says that someone discovered a camp of orcs a ways from here....I intend to assist in their demise..." she added, glancing at the floor.
Not waiting for a reply, Ice sprinted upstairs, her feet hardly touching a step at all. She changed back into her black trousers and tunic, pulled her long dark hair up, and strapped on her sword and throwing daggers. Ice knelt and whispered into Selen's ear. The cat glanced at her mistress and nodded, her ears flicking once, then she pounding back down the stairs and out the inn's door. Ice closed her eyes in concentration, as her body began to glow a light blue; she shimmered once or twice, then fell completely into her ethereal form, which could walk in the wind itself. She began to slide downward through the floor...
"Certainly you may sing again Arath, as long as no one else has already taken the floor, you may sing anytime the Muse leads you to it."
Grondy set up his first aid kit on one end of the bar in case any of the orc hunters needed any healing upon their return.
*turion clears his throat and gingerly steps up to the stage*
"this is for Arath, Rafael (and even thorin) who showed me such kindness"
*turion releases a sweet, gentle voice"
"Adel i pennas dartha aen
I ven eden, annon thurin;
Ar ae na-lim im bant nef hain,
I aur telitha na-vedui
Ir aphadathon i min haill
annûn od Ithil, rhûn 'd Anar."
*turion looks sheepish, briskly bows and returns quickly to his seat*
*Turion sat quietly in a corner booth, his cloak wrapped tightly around him and his hood down low,though he did not look cold, an icy demenour seemed to radiate from him, a small harp was in his hand, and he strummed a sad song, full of melencholy, for a sister long lost**
Meanwhile, chaos reigns supreme in the not-too-far-off clearing, as panicked orcs scramble to flee the sudden onslaught. The Eagle's wide-spread wings cut off what moonlight had made it into the clearing, leaving only the magic's flashes and the wildly flickering firelight. Laurelome keeps mostly to the edges of the clearing, picking off those orcs that actually make it that far.
Etharion sighed as Ice went etheral. "Just watch out for etheral marauders and filchers!" he shouted after her. Applauding to Turion as he came down from the stage, he said to Grondy "Really now..such a fuss about a few lousy orcs.." he noted, reffering to the encounter out in the woods. "I do hope they dont mind if i stay out of this one.. a tiny orc patrol is hardly worth my attention.
He noticed Turion's lonely attitude so he headed over to him.. "Greetings there..Etharion Turambar is the name, i think i didnt have the chance to shake your hand and greet you here. Im almost a permanent resident here at the Inn, so to speak. That was some very nice singing you performed for us friend." he finished with a smile.
Ice seemed to fly she ran so fast, soon arriving at the orc encampment. She sighed and returned to her solid state, crouching behind a few trees. Not five minutes later, Selen came creeping up beside her. The cat growled quietly, as she noticed there were not many orcs left; looking up at her mistress, Selen, again let loose a series of meows and growls, conversing with Ice. Ice nodded her head wordlessly, then disappeared as she slipped back to her ethereal state, and headed back to the inn. Going through the wall a few feet from the door, Ice once again returned to normal, and took her seat at the table. To the unasked question of why she came back so soon, Ice simply said, "Selen wanted the practice, and I trust her to protect herself. Now Grondy...how bout some...do you have Honeymead?"
Meanwhile Selen crouched in the shrubs, flexing her claws. Everytime one of the fleeing orcs would run by her hiding place, she sling out a massive paw, claws extended, either gutting or him, or simply removing his cranium. She sighed, thinking, This is no fun, Orcs are dumb...no real hunt involved.
Laurelome swooped in to land near Selen's hiding spot, chasing a few orcs before her, and sat watching the last few be enveloped in a small burst of magical flame. She let out a large bird-ish sigh. "I must agree with your sentiment, earthbound cousin. They really aren't true sport at all..."
"Hey, grondy i think its time to update the list of those who did their compulsory singing," thorin said as he sat drinking his beer.
"may someone pass me a harp?"
Over the land there lies a long shadow,
Westward reaching wings of darkness.
The Tower trembles; to the tombs of Kings
doom approaches. The Dead awaken:
for the hour is come for the oathbreakers;
at the Stone of Erech they shall stand again
and hear a horn in the hills ringing.
Whose shall be horn? Who shall call them
from grey twilight, the forgotten people?
The heir of him to whom the oath they swore.
From the North shall he come, need shall drive him:
he shall pass the Door to the Paths of the Dead
"Bravo, Bravo," thorin clapped as arath finished. "You're now worthy of becoming a bard"
As Fionwë turned to reply to her, he saw in his blade a large party of orcs, twenty in number, come into the clearing. He spun around, whipping the knife he had received in the left shoulder out, causing the blood to come gushing, and threw it at the foremost orc, but to late. The orc released the arrow just as the knife buried itself in his throat, with a cry and a gurgle the orc dropped dead.
The arrow sped into Fionwë's right side, his body shook with the impact as two more arrows shot into him, in the stomach, and in the left arm. With a cry, a word in the tongue of the Valar, Fionwë slammed his sword into the ground. Nothing happened for a second, then a crack boomed through the clearing. With a blinding flash of light, a wave of lightning blasted the entire area, killing all the orcs. As Fionwë reached down to pick up his sword, the ground began to spin around him. As he looked at Laurelome, everything went black and he crumpled to the ground.
OOC: He is not dead.
Selen sprung from her hiding place, her roars eching across miles. She bounded over to Fionwë and swore under her breath in her feral language. Glancing up at Lauralome, Selen growled, in that same language, "Either you carry him or your back, or I'll take him on mine, I'm not sure who's faster...but we have to get him out of here and to people who can help him." While waiting for a reply, Selen touched her nose to each of wounds, while a soft white light flowed from her, steming the blood flow somewhat. She cursed herself from not being able to do more.
Thorin who had earlier left the inn was walking towards the forest when he heard a piercing cry from further off. Taking his axe from his belt he moved rapidly but causiously forward untli he stumbled into a clearing where he saw a maiden(?) bent upon an injured elf.
"Can i help he cried hurying forward?"
sorry for the interuption in your little game but i was dying of boredom here
Posted Wednesday 15th November 2006;
Loss put away his pipe that had been put out and sat back and shut his eyes for a moment
Loss, still sitting in his chair went into a sort of light sleep stage, it seemed that he never went to sleep at all, but slowly opened his eyes as if two minutes came and went, but alas, he slept for many more than that. He opened his eyes fully now, and his grey and blue eyes were unusually sharp, and he scanned the room for life, then spotted Grondy and smiled. So he got up and stretched his now refreshed body and laughed as he walked towards Grondy.
"My friend" he chuckled, "it seems that shutting my eyes for a moment can no longer be called a moment, but thank you and the others for not disturbing me, it seems that I did need a "sleep", as I do not usually shut off, my mind is too busy........ but please take the payment for the seat I slept in", and he taken out the just payment and gave it to Grondy, then continued again...."and I would like to "book" a room if possible please, just so I can sort out my things, though it may be few and so that I don't keep that seat all for myself" and looked around, but seeing the commotion, Loss chose not to interfere unless they asked him for help.
Turion, suddenly shhifted in his seat, and realised that he had been daydreaming for far longer than is natural for an elf his age..
"Etharion, sorry my friend, i noticed not that you were talking to me, but thank you for your applause, the song is one that was sung but a great hobbit many moons ago"
turion straightened his hair, and adhusted his tunic,
"and although we have not talked before, i have noticed you in many of the rooms on this fine site, you seem like an inteligent sort"
Turion bows a deep and repsectfull bow,
"Turion Calmo Ristar, at your service" he said with a quaint smile "No mae mellon nin"
Here's a tankard of Gimli's Finest™ Ale for your song Turin. Have a plate of our munchies while your at it.
All our mead is made with honey Ice, assuming here is a tankard of the stuff for you. Personally, mead is too sweet for my taste, but that don't mean a thing; it's the customers' taste that's important.
You can have room five Loss, I think it's available; if someone is still using it, let me know and I'll find another for you.
*bows* "oh grond master, mae govannen, you...umm..you"
Turin clears his throat
"dear sir, it is an honour to talk to you, i have seen some of your comments about, and heard , much of you"
"you are a tolkien authority, your knowledge is greater than the land of my forest home, deeper than the wide ocean and more awe inspiring then the very stars them selves"
Turion blushes, bows agen and sits to eat and drink
ooc:sorry for not replying...didn't expect it to pick up so suddenly!.../ooc
"I will take him to the inn, and speed back as fast as my wings can carry me. I suppose now we shall have that sport we were wishing for just a moment ago, cousin." The great Eagle lifted the wounded Fionwë gently in her great claws and with some difficulty (she was not used to being cautious with what she held in her claws) lifted from the clearing, arrows tangling in her feathers. She flew low above the trees, as fast and as straight as an arrow from an elvish bow. She soon arrived at the door to the inn, and with a mighty downrush of wings brought herself down lightly on the step. She laid the still unconcious elf on the step before her, and gave a hard rap on the door, calling out "Sorry all, but there's a bit of a situation, I beleive that we may need more than the first-aid kit here." She waited for someone to come to the door, as she knew she was too clumsy on the ground to come through the door with the wounded elf in her talons...
Selen grimaced as Thorin hurrying through. The large cat shook her head to his question, then angled her head skyward, indicating the rapidly receding eagle with the elf on her back. Selen grinned without realizing it and began to follow the eagle on the ground, her long stride and amazing agility allowing her to just barely keep pace. To her, for just a moment, she was playing a game, for she had fallen completely into her feral side.
Soon, however, Selen shook herself from that state as she remembered the eagle and herself were 'racing.' When the eagle arrived at the inn, Selen was about five minutes behind her.
Etharion bowed back to Turion. "Nay, it is my pleasure to meet thee. You seem quite the eloquent folk. Aye " he said witha faint smile ", i have walked over nearly all of Middle Earth for a long time now..but as you say, i am no match for our great innkeeper here!" he said with a beaming smile, pointing at Grondy with a open hand. "I hope we shall have more time to speak, but now i must excuse myself,for my friends seem to have got themselves over their heads. That is..they underestimated the loathsome filthy orcs..as have i it seems..and now we have a man wounded." he said worried as the eagle brought the man to the doorstep. He got up and checked his pulse. "Still breathing.. get him to a warm place near the fire and let him breath, quickly! This bleeding needs to be stoped. I shall go investigate exactly whats going on here.. This seems to simple..orcs just >happening< to camp near The Inn.. It might be a more elaborate plan.." Etharion was worried, he didnt want the Inn to come under siege..he was already in a similar setting, at Silver River Tavern. But this place was like his home, he didnt want any filth like the orcs and their masters moving aroung it..
He strided out of the inn heading towards the glade where all the commotion had happened. it was some five to ten minutes away from the Inn, but with a good stamped in path leading the way. As he neared the glade, looking through the trees at the surounding hill sides, for a second he thought he imagined seeing a mass of moving fires descending towards the glade..creatures carrying torches, with their light glinting off sinister looking pieces of curved steel..
Turion took his gaze from grondmaster and glanced through the open door, the wide world beyond glared back at him with malice , his mind wandered to poor Etharion and the others, fighting for their lives
"Amar sen faeg, Ai, in yrch nibin, im puiatha bo haudh tîn"
O.C.C. Turion, the clearing is not just outside the Inn, i just described that in my last post.. Just thought you should know..
Grondy carried the wounded Fionwë and laid him on a table near the fire, propping his feet above his head to reduce shock and went to work deftly removing Fionwë's clothing in the areas of the wounds and applying compresses to reduce the bleeding. There was one wound that was more than a superficial bleeder, so Grondy had to resort to using one of his three remaining healing potions which were left from is adventuring days.
Then after washing Fionwë's wounds he stitched those closed that needed it, hoping that none would become abscessed, for he didn't have a supply of maggots, which was the only way he knew to keep a wound from going bad once it began to smell. He finished by applying bandages and wrapping the wounded elf in blankets.
"All we can do now is wait for him to wake and hope for the best," then he went to the kitchen to prepare some tea and hot broth.
Turion arose from his seat, approached the wounded Fionwë and knelt down...
"Ai, these wounds are terrible, but Grondmaster has made a fine job in patching you up" said turion, not knowing if Fionwë could hear him...
his hand moved to take Fionwë's..
"you are cold, life drains from you" a tear ran dowm turion cheek, and fell silently to Fionwe's chest "Hîrgwannath i shall name thee, fair warrior, "master of death", for i fore-see that thee shall master your afflictions"
Turion placed Fionwe's hand back upon the floor beside his body.
Laurelome wandered in, following the commotion surrounding the wounded elf. She stayed nearby, but realized she was just generally getting in the way, so she turned back to the door, readying herself to fly back to the clearing to see what was happening, only to nearly be run over by Selen as she bounded lithely through the door. A moment later a dwarf came puffing up surprisingly close behind.
Ice turned around just Etharion left the inn, and Fionwë was laid near the hearth. She could sense his life slowly ebbing away, and was torn between staying to help cure him, or going after Etharion, to make the elf didn't wind up in far more trouble than he could handle. Suddenly Lauralome, then Selen arrived, and the large cat roared again..again jumped at her mistress to get her attention. Ice deftly jumped to the side, and Selen turned, using her massive head as a ram to force Icey out the door.
"GO!!!" She roared in her feral language, then retreated inside the inn to tend to Fionwë's wounds. She eased herself through the people crowding the elf and and lay down by his side, after again touching her soft nose to each of his wounds again, and again the soft blue light flowed from her body, into his, and irritated red areas around each one lessened a bit.
"Hrm, well, it seems my earthbound cousin has matters well under control here, friend. Would you fly with me? We can move faster through the air, and see where the enemy approaches."
"yes. Thank you O Master Of The Skies"
Hah, sweet speech, rock delver. Climb upon my back, so that I can have my talons ready for swift work, and watch that you do not pull out all of my feathers when we take to the air." Laure spread he wings wide and crouched, then sprang into the air with a loud cry, and sped off in the direction of the orc-rank clearing.
ooc...wow, I've been on a lot last couple of days...I love the beginning of the semester. I just wish it would last a bit longer that way. I don't mind being bored!
Etharion was near the clearing now where the first attack occured. The orcs descending from the hills were near now, with some scouts already in front of Etharion. As his elvish sight helped him greatly, he roasted a few orcs hiding in the bushes with a fireball, and smote two others with magic missiles.
He had to smash in the helmet of a braver orc with his staff, as it came rushing at him from behind a tree,scimitar drawn.
A few wiser orc scouts fired arrows at him from affar, but their weak arrows just bounced of the mage's protective aura. Etharion decided to bull rush them with his bastard sword, while his protections still lasted. So he charged at the three orcs archers, blade and staff swinging.
"Wah," thorin cried from the back of the eagle, "this is great, feeling the wind in your face."
ooc...wow, I've been on a lot last couple of days...I love the beginning of the semester. I just wish it would last a bit longer that way. I don't mind being bored!
me too wish the same. This is my last year in college as i'm completing my HSC. i'm trying to enjoy it fullt.
"Yes thank you Grondy, I shall take room 5, I'll just go and set out my belongings and then be back down to "try" and help out in whatever way I can" Loss said then turned and went to his room.
Seeing the number 5 on the door, Loss slowly turned the handle and spoke softly, "Helloooo, anyone there???" Seeing that no-one was occupying the room (that he knew of) he stepped in and saw grand tapestries and pictures on the walls, he just pondered over them all, and thought that he might asked Grondmaster of their origin. He then walked over to his big bed and drew his sword from it's sheath and muttered "Mithross", and sheathed it again leaving it on his bed, from there he placed his bag next to it and walked over to his window and let the breeze make his hair wave slightly and with his elf-eyes he overlooked where he had walked the long miles to this place.
As Fionwë's mind wandered, he found himself on walking on a beach. The sun was starting to set when he saw that he was not alone, beside him was the most beautiful elf he had ever seen. He remembered them walking together for a while, she told him that her name was Ithiel, and she was a guest of Cirdan. She was a young elf, only 307 years old. As the memory faded, he recalled her last words to him as they parted, "I will wait for you before I leave," she had said.
Fionwë began to stir, and very softly he said, "Ithiel". A little bit later, he opened his eyes and found himself in the Inn. "I have athelas in my satchel," he said weakly. "It is on my horse. Don't worry too much about me, I'll live."
After a moment he spoke again, "That was just a random party of orcs, so there is nothing to be worried about." He tried to sit up but fell back down. He cursed himself for a fool, "I wasn't wearing my armor. That was stupid, but there was no time to get it."
"I'll go get the athelas from his saddle bag, but I don't know the words or the tune to use it. Do we have any of the King's Singers here?"
(OOC: Sorry, I couldn't resist using the name of that highly accalimed English a cappella choral ensemble in this situation.)
Idont know, should we pursue the line of story where there are more orcs coming towards the inn, or should we presume that it was only a single band of orcs and then go back to normal? Grondy, its up to you, this is your inn after all! It depends, if you want to add some combat into this thread, or just keep the plain old inn activities. Both suits me, we can even open up another thread if people want to continue this, but you want to keep this thread as it is.
I'd rather it be the'Homey Inn' where you can return from your adventures to recuperate and maybe start an adventure that will be moved to another thread of its own. I don't mind the occasional short foray into the wild or the caves below the Inn's sub-cellars, but I don't this to become just another adventure thread.
Thats what i thought. OK, so we continue on with the good old inn.
Now. If anyone else wants to continue the orc inncident at the inn, say so, and we'll open up a new thread. So, who wants to join in? If anyone at all..
Etharion started back for the inn, as he sorted out the few remaining panicked orcs. He sheated his sword and finally let himself relax. "Another day..another few orc's less..not bad all in all.." he said thoughtfully.
Arriving at the inn he ducked down to get in, and steped inside. "Ello people. Everyone allright? How are the wounds of our friend?"
"our injured fares well dear Etharion",said turion as he stood from Fionwes side, "though i wish you would all take more care of your selves!" he said with a sigh as he returned to his seat.
"that one is talking at least", he said as he smiled, gesturing to Fionwe "though i doubt you need my help anyway, i have left some Asea Aranion by Fionwe's side, use it as you will...
*Turions returned to his food*
Laurelome, with the dwarf clinging to her back, reached the clearing just in time to see the last of the orcs dispatched. Slightly dissapointed, she circled one last time before turning back towards the warm comfort of the Inn. "I'll want a very large bowl of hot chocolate after this" she thought longingly of the wondrously rich chocolate she had had earlier that evening.
Now that others were looking after the wounded, Grondy hurried to the kitchen to prepare big vats of hot drinks for the hungry warriors and their nurses as well as a large platter full of Rúmil Sandwiches made from hot corned-warg, swish-cheese, sour-krout, and a special Numennorian dressing, all between two toasted slices of carry-away rye bread and with a dill pickles on the side.
OOC:I've started a new adventure thread if any are interested, The Conquest of Annuminas.
Feeling content that he was settled in his new room, Loss changed out from his "ranger" attire and taken from his bag a slightly ragged but finely made tunic of pale grey with slightly darker piping going down the sleeve and waistline then up to the breast in slightly curved spirals. He then braided a small section of his shoulder-length hair near his left temple and looked at himself in the mirror near his bed, he sighed and thought, "Unformal yet smart...... now..... to see if I can help with the commotion, I just hope that no fighting will be needed, for this is my best tunic for the moment, it would be a shame to get blood on it....." then tied his sword to his belt and wipped out a long black cloak from his bag and wrapped it about himself then went down to the bar where a rushing (and blushing) Grondy was seen as he went about sorting things.
Loss caught Grondy whilst he whizzed past him and said "I hope that this is more better dress than before as a ranger attire, I only use it when I am on my travels, but I think it rude to be muddy and grimey before my host.... oh yes, the room is more than okay, thank you..... I'll think I think I'll have whatever is cooking though, and I shall be at my usual seat.... oh I meant to ask you, what has been going on these past few hours, I seem to have missed alot and if I could help???" Then he leaned against the bar, looking around to see if anyone noticed his change since he dissapeared upstairs.
* walks in keeping his hood well drawn over his face keeping it shrouted in shadow and makes his way silently to a dark cornor and sits back to the wall so he can wach all who are moveing arond him and sits in silence.
"A newcomer!!!" belowed Etharion, pointing at Corgon Swiftblade. "Grondy, shall you inform our new guest of the rule for all newcomers, or can i take care of that?" he asked happily, seeing that the stranger was just trying to mind his own buissnes, and was probably didnt want to be seen. But alas, that are the rules of the inn!
Turion glanced up to see Etharion leaping gayley towards a stranger entering the Inn
"randír faeg" he muttered to no-one in perticular, as he returned to repairing his battle worn tunic
"I'll do it Etharion."
Howdy stranger, I don't mean to intrude on your privacy; however for a moment I must. I'm Grondy and I run the Inn for Master Gimli while he's away at the wars. Before you order a drink I must point out Gimli's Sign posted over the bar (as well as in the first post of this thread). Complying with it will get you a complimentary tankard of Gimli's Finest™ Ale and a plate of our heavy horse'dervers. When you're ready, just step on the stage and give it your best. And now I'll let you go about your business."
*looks up at him from under his hood and smiles at the sighn. he stands and pulls his hood back leting his long silver hair tumbel about his sholders freely. he walks to the stage and sits on a stool and takes out his flute and begins to play a slow sad tune then begins to sing:
the sun sat on a cool summers day the rode had been long and tiering the man aproched the crown of a hill and stoped to breath the cool mountian air. the sun was siting on the peeks on the other side of the vally as he stould and lookd about he spoke these words to know one about. "many years ago i left this place to seek happyness many trials iv endurd and many foes id behead the rod was long and tiring and in the end i descovered that my happyness was here and here i am but alas there is my home and town chard blace by hell fire i once lives in this vally but now theres nothing here.
this story is as true as the blood in my veans i know i am that man.
*stops playing and singing and stand returning to his seat in the darkness returning his hood to its place over his face.
Laurelome had arrived sometime in the middle of the song, and had waited politely just outside the door. As Corgon went back to his seat, she deposited her passenger on the doorstep and slipped (as quietly as an eagle on the ground can) in through the door and made her way through the quieting pandemonium over to the hearth, where the injured elf still lay. Seeing that he was still breathing, and was being well cared for, she went in search of the innkeeper, still thinking of a large mug/bowl of that lovely cocoa...
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* sees her actions and silently slips to her side and wispers so low that she bearly hears him*
" a friend of yours is he? if i can help in anyway let me know"
and slips away just as quitely as he had come to her.