(Archive) The Fellowship of the Sword 53 - At the Fiery Flagon

Middle-earth time is:

Nighttime on Hevensday, Day 24 of April.

Execute the +TIMEFRAME command for year information.

Real time is: 01:27:47 MST on Mon Jan 15 2001.

*Note - log submitted by Morrandir*

Fiery Flagon

The Fiery Flagon, a well known inn and tavern, is a bustling place headed up by the owner and barkeep, Brue. The tables are evenly spaced around the room, providing easy passage for any amongst the tables, whether to get closer to the bar and the tempting beverages it offers, or to the staircase to ascend to a room where one can rest the night or day away. A fireplace sets in the back wall and a large window looks out onto Bowman Street. The clientel of the Flagon consists primarily of the humans that dwell here in Esgaroth, as well as the occasional Dwarf or Elf here for business or travel. All the races however, enjoy the fine beverages brewed right here in the establishment by Brue and his family, a tradition passed down his family from the days when his ancestors lived in Dale, before the arrival of the dragon Smaug.

Contents:

Laerlinn

Brue

Obvious exits:

Up the stairwell leads to Sleeping Quarters.

Swinging Door leads to Center of Bowman Street.

Back Door leads to The Market Square.

Table code is in effect in this room. Type \'thelp\' for table help.

Brue smiles and says, \"Well met, friend.\"

The late afternoon sun casts long strips of shadow upon the Firey Flagon\'s wooden floor, creating an odd pattern with the actual grain of the wood. Some few patrons squint amidst the sharp light as it filters through the window. But in all this spectacle of light, few notice and none seem to care.

None, that is, except for Laerlinn. Sitting at one of the tables, she has no drink before her, and no others that she seems to know. Looking half interested at the patrons, she is more fascinated by the play of light upon her table, and the glittering motes of dust that dance before her with the faintest current of air. Perhaps typical...for an elf. She seems quite in her own little world.

The doors of the Inn swing open, and a tall foreigner enters. He quickly glances about the room, and his gaze falls upon the barman, Brue. He strides towards him, and slams some coins down upon the bar. \"A mug of your finest ale.\" He says, smiling as he does so. Morrandir appears to be in high spirits, and taking his ale, finally notices the familiar face at the table. He grins, and approaches the elleth. \"Is this seat taken m\'lady?\"

Hearing the voice of the one that has entered, it is not until the man\'s footsteps approach and he makes inquiry that Laerlinn looks up to look at him. A smile breaks the pensive expression as the grey-green eyes glitter. \"Not at all, mellon,\" she says, motioning for the squire to be seated. \"Morrandir, if I remember the name?\" she says in lilting tone.

\"That is correct, miss.\" He says, sitting down and placing the ale before him. \"You must forgive me if I seem too jovial, though last night I was promoted and my happiness has yet to wear off.\" He sips his ale and sighs happily, looking down at the three blue stripes upon his sleeve.

The Laiquendi scribe sits up with this announcement, looking to the stripes upon the squire\'s sleeve in a way that can be only be describes as staring. \"Then congratulations are in order, mellon!\" she says in a cheering tone. And then, flicker of uncertainly grazes her brow. \"What does it mean?\" the question arises simply. \"This promotion?\"

The Squire manages to draw his eyes away from the stripes for a moment so he can smile at the elleth, \"What it means is I am one step closer to becoming a Knight. It means I am no longer one of the uneducated little \'boys\' who have a mind to make something of themself. I now feel that I am truly part of the Order. Despite everything...\" He pauses, and regains his composure. \"It means they deem me worthy of being prepared for Knighthood.\"

The elleth\'s laughter upon the first words of Morrandir are chastened with humour. \"I must say, mellon, that I never considered you one of the \'uneducated little boys.\'\" And her gaze turns almost--but not quite--mischievous. \"There are many..\" and she drops her voice low so as not to be heard and leans forward. \"Many of those about the streets here. And some of them are quite as tall a you.\" She winks, once again releasing a musical laugh. Sitting back now, her smile solemns. \"I wish you the best in this,\" she says steadily. Another moment of thought passes, and the grey-green gaze is watchful upon the face of the other. \"This is important to you, beyond the title.\" She observes with a tilt of her head.

\"It is. For me it goes far beyond merely proving to the Knights that I am worthy.\" His joy seems to fade slightly as he speaks, looking away from Laerlinn and watching the people out in the street. \"Becoming a squire was something I had to do, I took a solemn vow that I would not rest until I had earned my place as a Knight. I had my doubts, but I think I can perhaps achieve my goal...\" His words seem to hide something, some darker meaning only hinted at by the coldness of his gaze.

\"But I am on the right path.\" He adds at length, in a much lighter tone. He turns back toward the elleth, his face now calm, all hint of unease gone.

\"Not all paths are well-marked, perhaps,\" Laerlinn says thoughtfully, for she has noted the change in Morrandir\'s gaze. \"However, if you know that you are on the right one, it does save you many steps in not having to retrace them.\" She smiles faintly as she brings her arms to rest upon the smooth surface of the table and clasps her hands together before her. \"And what of your quest for the sword. The three pieces. Has your seach yielded much hope?\" The grey-green eyes are again inquiring.

\"There are infact four pieces to be found, m\'lady. Though with any luck in afew days we shall only seek three.\" Morrandir says, sipping his ale. After wiping the froth from his moustache with the back of his sleeve he continues, \"These dwarves almost certainly possess what we are after, and perhaps as early as tomorrow Sir Indilzar shall take counsel with King Dain. Then we can hopefully be on our merry way once more.\"

Morrandir takes another sip of ale, then adds \"Most curious folk aren\'t they? The dwarves I mean. Almost comical, their stature I find quite amusing. However they are quite heavily built...\" He looks about the Inn, as though watching out for angry dwarves who may take offence at being described as comical.

\"Curious, indeed,\" Laerlinn agrees with a grin. \"I have not, of myself, had much interaction with them, for when I travel to Lake Town it is my father who has business with them. However..\" And the elleth raises a forefinger to tap her chin absently. \"I did chance to meet with some Dwarves in the Anduin valley. On the way to the Bardic Congress.\" Once again--that mischief plays upon her features. \"They found us odd I think, for they quite stared at us. Though upon recollection, we quite stared at them. And strong they are, yes!\" she agrees at last. \"I would not think any would dare to get in the way of an axe wielded in their grip.\"

Morrandir nods. \"Aye, I think it would be best to treat them with respect, despite some of the old tales...\" He tucks his hair behind his ears and sips more ale. \"I had never seen a dwarf before... though before this quest I among others had never even had the pleasure of meeting one of the first-born. It has opened my eyes indeed.\"

\"I find it most curious how the second-born differ so much from eachother,\" Laerlinn says. \"The men of Lake Town, here. So different from you that hale from Gondor. And there is one who stays in our halls now who claims parentage from those southron born. Dark of skin is she, with features different from any I have seen before.\" She gives a little shrug, meeting the Gondorian\'s gaze as her demeanor changes from contemplation to gladness. \"I am cheered that you have found my kin agreeable, and I hope there are many tales to be told of your journey, but that most of all, it may be said that your journey was successful.\"

\"Yes, my hopes are the same.\" Morrandir says, \"And yet despite how far we have come, there is still much more to be done. I do not doubt that there shall be deeds worthy of song, but great peril waits for us at the end of our journey, right on the borders of our land. I have no idea how we are to retrieve the piece of the sword that resides in the land of The Enemy...\" his face darkens visibly at the thought of entering the land of Mordor. \"Though that is far off into the future. There shall at least be many good times to be had ere the end.\"

\"And I doubt not that there is any as fit for the task as you, mellon,\" Laerlinn says to Morrandir, offering the squire a smile. \"Every journey worth the taking holds some risk. It is the nature of things. Though I hope that there are, indeed, many good times to be had \'ere the end.\" The elleth stands from the table now, as her gaze strays to the window and outside, where a familiar figure to her stands outside, speaking to another elf. \"My father has returned,\" Laerlinn says, yet looks back to Morrandir. \"I must take my leave, now, mellon. I do wish you well in you travels. Farewell.\" She delays her steps until the squire may answer.

Morrandir casts a quick glance out the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of Laerlinn\'s father. Returning his attention to the elleth, he smiles. \"I thank you, your kind words bring me new hope.\" The squire stands, and bows. \"Fare thee well, Lady Laerlinn of the Greenwood.\"

The elleth\'s expression brightens upon Morrandir\'s words, and she nods her head in a wordless, yet cheerful farewell. Turning, Laerlinn starts towards the exit--her footsteps light and soundless upon the wood floor. As she goes through the swinging doors, she turns one more glance to the squire, \'ere the welcoming voice of her father draws her gaze back to him. \"Father,\" she greets fondly, and as the doors close once again, the voices are lost to murmurs.