All current role-playing will take place, here; record or post links to your die rolls, as well as anything you feel is relevant to playing your character in our present adventure, for ease of reference. All current Out-of-Character (OOC) discussions should take place here, as well, such as Fellowship/ Company planning. Please, keep your die rolls and short OOC notes in the main game thread; you may even use an OOC note to point to a topic (insert a URL into your post) or post elsewhere in this forum, as long as it is relevant to the on-going game.
Old adventures and OOC posts will go into the proper forum category area once the new adventure and OOC thread have been established. OOC threads MAY carry over to more adventures if I deem there is not enough in the current thread to separate it from a new OOC thread.
As each of you sit to sup and drink, you find yourselves to be better rested than you've been in some time, though it's only been a little over six hours since coming into Galford. The ambience of the place has changed, however. When you first came in you were certain the walls were a dull gray and dust hung in the air like a thousand fireflies, reflecting the morning sun from two-dozen high windows. Now, however, the place has lost its gloom, dozens of candles lit across stands, sconces, and three candelabra's, dangling quietly and steadily from the ceiling. The last rays of sunshine beam in from the half-dozen windows facing the Western side of the building as the Sun dips below the peaks of the Misty Mountains. Once you've seen it go, however, the after-effects of the rays seem to hang in your eyes for a while until they adjust to the bright candles and the colorful decorations of the main room of this inn.
Just as Rebecca ushers you all to a table or two near the middle of the room and gets you all to settle down so she can ask what sort of meat you want -and, looking at the Elves, or not meat you want- the door swings wide and a tall-bold woman with a green shield with the white tree of Gondor on it, steps inside quickly. She does not appear to be a normal fixture of the town...
A fierce and beautiful young human woman of 5'9" and a muscular 145 lbs with shoulder length black hair and piercing blue eyes wearing a helm of iron and leather, clad in gleaming mail with a surcoat depicting the White Tree of Gondor upon it. Over her shoulders is a heavy cloak of skins and furs and held in her left gauntleted hand is a fine shield emblazoned with the White Tree on a green background. Around her waist is a well cared for weapon belt, with a distinct looking long sword sheathed in an ornate scabbard on her left hip and a dagger on her right hip. She has a bow with a quiver of arrows and pack slung over her shoulder. She strides in looking around the inn at the patrons and Rebecca behind the bar. She makes note of the lights and the warmth of the fire and atmosphere. She finds an empty table nearby the fireplace if possible. She sets her shield, pack, bow and quiver beside her chair and unhooks the heavy fur/skin cloak, laying it over the chair back and sits down, adjusting her sword belt so Naurmegil can be drawn without incident if needed.
Lothiriel watches as Rebecca approaches and smiles at her as she introduces herself. "Nice to meet you Rebecca. I am Lothiriel of Minas Tirith and I would like a some food and drink and a room for the night."
"This early in the season we have all sorts of rooms, my dear," she explains with a genuine smile, "and not terribly expensive. Seven copper for the room per night; there are no fancy rooms or common rooms, here, so seven copper is that. A hot bath, well, luke-warm as we have no real means of boiling large pots of boiling water, yet," she points toward the North-east wall and explains, "Vali is constructing a large oven outside, the water will boil and come into the Inn, itself, useful for all sort of things," she moves in and looks around, becoming conspiratorially quiet, "but we'll still have to collect and bring water for the boiler, as he calls it." Backing up to her customary position, she continues with the menu of available items for the Lantern, "One silver per meal of food, and we also sell nice day-packs of food for ten silver. They are heavy and rot within days, so you may only desire a few, if any.
Lothiriel's blue eyes gleam at the mention of a hot bath and smirks as Rebecca mentions the boiler needing construction still. "I would like a bath, a room and a meal with a tankard of your best ale." She leans into Rebecca, her armor and sword shifting as she does so. She takes a gold coin from her pouch. "I'm afraid all I have is this, I hope I don't put you out to much with making change."
A sturdy dwarf standing 4' 10'' tall, with straight, carefully braided coal-black hair and beard, and grey eyes, enters the common room coming from the tract where the guestrooms are. His face has a weather-beaten look to it, but the lack of greyish streaks in his hair suggests that this might be from spending significant amounts of time in the outdoors, rather than from advanced age. He is dressed in a padded gambeson of the kind that usually gets worn under heavy mail, which is clearly of fine craftsmanship, but shows some signs of carefully-repaired wear and tear, and from his belt hang two plain scabbards containing a short sword and a dagger.
The dwarf takes a look surveying the common room and, not seeing any others of his fellowship yet but noticing Lothiriel, there is a glimmer of curiosity in his eyes, and he approaches her table, giving a slight bow. "Frerin, Son of Oín, far trader from Erebor, at yer service, Ma'am. Pleased ta make yer acquaintance!"
Lothiriel notices the dwarf entering from the guest rooms and makes note that he appears to have spent much time in the outdoors and he wears his gambeson and weapon belt as one who has seen his share of combat. She smiles as he approaches and bows. "Greetings Frerin, son of Oín. Is your father Oín of the Quest for Erebor? I am Lothiriel, daughter of Hirluin of Minas Tirith. I am honored to meet you. Would you care to join me?"
The dwarf smiles at hearing that she seems to have heard about his father. "Aye, 'e's that Oín indeed - companion ta Thorin Oakenshield, 'imself. An th' honor is all mine, Lothiriel, daughter of Hirluin." He nods towards one of the bigger tables in the middle of the room. "Thanks fer yer invitation, m'lady, though th' companions I am trav'ling with will be 'ere shortly - maybe ya'd like ta join us o'er there? I'm sure they'd appreciate makin' yer acquaintance as well. 'tis rare ta be seein' a Shield-maiden of Gondor so far in th' North."
Lothiriel smiles warmly as Frerin speaks and her eyebrows raise at the mention of companions, "If your companions are as welcoming as you I would be honored to meet them. I'm also much more than a Shield maiden of Gondor, but thank you for your compliment." She gets up and slings her pack/bow/quiver and picks up her shield and cloak, moving her stuff to situate it by the larger table, propping some of it against a spare chair and or setting it on the spare chair.
It has been a long time since Éadnes thought of the Greenwood and his last journey around its boundaries. Day dreaming of his last wandering in these parts and the ghastly sight of soldiers wounded by dragon ire, he shudders and looks up.
'Frerin! What is this? Do you now dream of being a guard of the White Tower? Will you trade your chain-mail for plate armour and heavy shield? I have no doubt you could lift it but can you see over it? '
He laughs openly. His beaming smile causing he others to turn and see Frerin standing beside the guard of the White Tree. In truth, there is a awkwardness in size between the dwarf and guard.
'Come now, don't be secretive and introduce us to your new friend. They surely have come a long way and if my memory is good, once again we have reached the time when Artorius must dig into his pockets!'
To all but the most astute the elf just japes but for Éadnes and those that know him most, this overstatement is to banish the darkness that plagued his mind but a few moments before.
Lothiriel grins as she sees and hears Eadnes as he laughs at his friend Frerin. She looks up at the elf, "I've seen only a few of your fair folk over my young life, but to hear your laughter brings joy with the dark tidings I bear. I am Lothiriel daughter of Hirluin of Minas Tirith."
Coming from the upstairs rooms, Artorius appeared in the doorway from the rooms and slowly approached the group. He stood tall, needing to watch his head on the door which he barely cleared by a few centimeters. He was clad in an dark green jerkin, with earth brown trousers, wearing tall and freshly cleaned travel boots (which clearly have been repaired mutliple times over the years). His bald head had some healing scabs on it from a clumsly shave from days before and additionally onlookers could see a small smile on his face through his rough beard. His old grey eyes look more rested than he had been for a few weeks, suggesting his sleep was deep and refreshing.
With a smile and a nod, he awaited the group to finish their own conversations before introducing himself.
"Well met, I am Artorius and unfortunately I know these two well, and let me warn you... they both have long memories so never promise to buy them a round when facing certain doom. I am from the other side of the Misty Mountains but I respect the banner you bear. I hope the White Tree still endures the Eastern Wind?"
He grudgingly flips a couple more coins onto the bar and turns to Frerin and Eadnes...
"This is the final round I buy! May the gift of men bless me before I part with any more of my coin for you thirsty scoundrels!"
Lothiriel smiles at Eadnes and says, "A pleasure to meet you and of course I'll sit. As for my journey, it was a 2 day ride from Edric's Town and I brought news to Vali to prepare Galford for war. Edric's Town is calling for allies and aid. The orcs and goblins of the Grey Mountains have a large encampment not far from the town. I intend to leave at dawn to ride back to help Lady Sara defend her home as I've been training her small army in the warfare and tactics of Gondor."
Lothiriel looks up from her conversation with Eadnes and her blue eyes meet the greys of Artorius, "Well met Artorius, I am Lothiriel of Minas Tirith and the White Tree still stands as does Gondor. I came north for a few reasons, which I'll likely share in more detail at some point, but my primary reason for being here is Edric's Town calls for aid against the enemy gathering at her doors."