The Green Dragon Inn
Welcome to the Green Dragon Inn. You step upon a well-polished floor and notice
a large overstuffed couch and a number of heavy chairs surrounding a wide stone
hearth before a large fireplace, perfect for relaxing with a bowl of pipeweed or
just browsing the copy of the paper kept on the table. Dining tables with green
cloths and candles allow for (somewhat) private conversations, sipping a spot of
tea or enjoying a fine glass of wine with your meal. The far wall depicts a
massive and ornately carved dragon, and just beneath, a small stage and piano
invite impromptu performances of all kinds. Just above the window is a framed
picture of Impatiens, the owner. Johnny is behind the bar, occasionally swiping
it with a towel, and looking for spots on the glasses. The clang of pots and
dishes can be heard from the nearby kitchen, and the aroma of fresh baked goods
and savory meat dishes makes its way out into the taproom.
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IC time is about 2 PM on Friday Blotmath (November) 15, 1423 S.R.
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IC Weather Conditions
The sky is overcast, with storm clouds rumbling like a kettle about to
boil over. Harsh winds blow, sending leaves flurrying about madly on
this Blotmath day.
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The door of the Green Dragon crashes open and the strong winds sweep leaves and
twigs amd dust from the street outside into the in. The newcomers shuts the door
against the storm and everything calms down again. He takes of his coat and
looks around, then approaches the bar. "Ugly storm brewing outside, I say. A
good day to stay in inside, right?" he says to no one in particular.
Sitting at the bar, Getto realises that a young hobbit enters and sits at
bar. He turns to him " Greetings youngster. I haven't seen you around here
before, you must be new. But hobbits are always welcome here." Getto smiles,
drinks some of his beer and conitune " My name is Getto, Getto Baggins. Who are
you?"
A brown haired hobbit boy with freckles, a running nose and blue eyes. He is
barefoot (of course) and wears brown baggy trousers, a yellow shirt with olive
green patches at the elbows, and a big belt that must have been red a long time
ago. Around his neck there is a little leather thong with a wooden halibut
shaped talisman. In one of his shirt pockets, he has a small pipe. On his
belt, you can discern three little pouches, althout it is hard to tell what they
contain. Perhaps a few pennies and some keys? It's hard to tell, the content
doesn't seem to make any sound. Perhaps it's just pipe weed.
Omfast nods his head at Getto and flattens his tousled hair. As he shifts around
for a comfortable position, he grins, "Indeed, I am just passing through. The
name is Omfast, Omfast Cotton." He wipes his hands on his trousers and looks
around for the waiter. "I need a beer!" he calls. Looking back at Getto, he
says, "I saw you playing at the piano -- do you play here regularly?"
Getto is a male hobbit with curly brown hair. He has a bright face with a small
scar on the left-side. This might be a gift of his adventureous mood. Unlike his
scared face, he seems very gentle. He also seems self_confident. He is not short
for a hobbit. He is about 3'. From his dressing style, you can see that he
doesn't try to dress well. He is wearing an old jumper which has a torn right
arm. His old pants' necks are also torn. Unlike his appearance he is seems
handsome and warm.
Carrying:
Shire Chronicle Paper
Getto smiles " Well, I wasn't playing the piano when you entered... but i
sometimes play it, especially at midnights." He drinks some beer again. "
Hmm. So, you are a Cotton. I haven't seen many Cottons, but i heard that they
are very good workers."
Omfast looks at the bottles arrayed on the shelves behind the bar. "Yeah yeah,"
he says. "Nothing left to do to us poor folks but work, right?" His eyes follow
the waiter as his beer is brought. "But then again I don't intend to follow my
father if at all possible." He laughs hoarsly.
"Hmm" says Getto
Omfast pulls a cheap, gnawed-looking pipe from his shirt pocket and starts
cleaning it.
Getto looks at the pipe " Hmm, nice one you have."
Omfast grins, "Heh, it serves well enough. Do you have some tobacco?"
"But I've got a better one" He says and takes a pipe from his backpack. Getto
says "I bought this from a trader in Bree. It's made of holy trees of elves." He
shows some figures on it " Those are elf and human language. It relaxes you more
when you smoke it"
Omfast looks closely at Getto's pipe, "Amazing! To smoke like a faery... Oh,
this must have cost a fortune. What does it say on the pipe?"
Getto smiles "They are holy figures, and they are in Quenya, I can read them if
they were in Sindarin." He takes some tobacco from his sack and gives it to you
"Here, take these. No tobacco is better than Shire's"
Omfast takes the tobacco offered and nods reverently, "Indeed, one thing we can
be proud of. And a faery pipe with Quina figures." He fills his pipe and lights
it with a piece of glowin charcoal available from a little metal tray for just
that. After a first pull, he sighs, "Nothing better than a good smoke on a foul
weather day!"
Getto nods "You are right!" Then he stops a while "Eeee. It's not Quina, it's
Quenya."
You say, "Yeah yeah, whatever them faeries use for their spells and charms. Aunt
Wilhelma once met faeries out in the woods somewhere. They put a spell on her
and she was forced to hop around and dance all night. They cursed her, too, and
she spent three years without wanting to see anybody before she
recovered. Wicked folk, aren't they?"
Getto looks angrily at Omfast " You are wrong, Fair folks are angelic. They
never curse anyone"
You say, "Hey now look, you think my aunty was lying!? They might be all high
and shining and whatnot, but they are no good for us! They trick us and ensnare
us! They would pull us into their woods and groves and we'd never come out
again!"
Getto shakes hi head "That's wrong"
Omfast nods his head vigorously and says, "No, that's right, my aunty said it,
and her great cousin Bill was robbed by faeries in the north farthing, too!"
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