The Eallníwe Inn

Where now are the horse and rider? In here, probably.
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Fire had broken out in three different places across Edoras, with both the Aethelmund and the Horse and Rider Inn going up in flames. People all around are trying to fight the fires and save what can be saved (here).


History comes full circle as Eldrith and Amadhrill combined forces after the fire to set up an improvised pub to offer everyone at least the opportunity to sit down and get together. And since they can't be everywhere at the same time, Cnith and Getale (npc's play this lovely young man and woman yourselves, we don't want you to have to wait for your drink) have come to help. From the ashes of the burned down Aethelmund and the Horse and Rider Inn, a "new" pub has arisen.


A few barrels with a heavy board over serve as the counter. There's a heavy, tightwoven, oiled canvas that serves as a roof, rigged with heavy poles and ropes, proof that someone knows how to set up accommodations on campaign. There are a few chairs and a few barrels that serve as tables, but just as many people just sit on the grass. Where the supplies come from is.. somewhat of a riddle, though there are some rumors that the cellars of Aern Freablod have provided at least a few barrels.
Behind the barrels there's a camp kitchen set up. Meals will be simple for now. In the aftermath of the fires, the pub is provisory, but as always it's a place where people are welcome.



Pub Rules:

- We try to keep rules to a minimum so: all plaza rules always
- Stay IC ((OOC: ooc comments like this may always be added))
- Occasionally in the pub themed updates may be given. Try not to ignore things like a roof caving in, but mostly we will let you have fun socializing!
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She brushed the golden red hair away from her sweaty face as she straightened herself and looked at the fruit of their labour. Eldrith and she had spoken, written, talked, and planned to see if the Ældsel could be reopened, but all of a sudden so much had happened. The summer festival, the campian, the after-party, the fire... and now Amadhrill stood there, a little sweaty from moving and rolling and trying to set up an improvised pub for the inhabitants and guests of Edoras, even amidst the ruins of fire.

She could not take credit alone, there was @Eldrith , she deserved so much of the credit. And so did Cnith and Getale, her green eyes looked at the two, Cnith, the busy brother maning the counter and his sister Getale with her rag ready to wipe off a table or serve a glas. Both looking ever young and ready. They too seemed happy to be behind the counter again.

A stew boiled over an open fire, some bread had also found its way to the improvised pub. And ale and tea, not much but it would do for now.

Ama smiled warmly as she looked around herself at the few chairs and barrels, the canopy of oiled canvas, the camp kitchen. In its own way she was happy with the result, and felt hope for a new era with new friendships, songs, and conversations. Cnith came over with a mug of ale, offering it to her and she took it. "Thank you, freond! Here's to new beginnings in the ashes of the old!"

((Edited to show gender))
Last edited by Amadhrill on Wed Aug 19, 2020 2:38 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Shadowfox, human, they/them
Wandering the Streets of Edoras and discovering the improvised pub

They walked nervously through Edoras that day, not because recent events made them feel any concern for their safety (at least no more than usual), but because this was still one of the first times they had appeared in public without being hidden by a mask. Today, they felt particularly vulnerable, partly because they were without their usual feminine make-up and light masculine beard, and also because of what they were up to. After long years without holding quill and ink, they had written a letter, and had been promptly reminded of just how poor their writing skills were.

They wanted to do better; they had already begun the first steps towards doing so by reaching out to Walpurga and asking if she might be willing to become a pen-friend, but they somehow felt like that was not enough. However they did not own book or scrolls to read with, and so they walked the streets of Edoras in search of words. They were in very different guise to the last few days at the festival; their nails were still painted a navy blue with white dots reminiscent of stars, but they were otherwise wearing quite plain Rohirric clothes, a shirt and trews that were still neutral enough as to not give them a clear gender. They shifted from street sign to shop-front, peering up at each quietly uttering the names aloud to themselves in a broken manner.


"Druh.... Dra... Dragon Roo...m... Dragon Room!" they grinned in satisfaction as they wandered further through the capital to the Riddermarket. "Sec... ond... Second... Skuh-in... Skin... Sadd less... sadless... saddles! And ta... tack! Second Skin Saddles and Tack" Bolstered by these successes, they continued further on and along the shop-fronts, until at last they reached the far end of the Market. "Ye... Ol... Olde.... Pet.... Sh... Shoo... Shoppe. Ye Old Pet Shop!" each successful reading felt like a small victory, but having exhausted the streets of the Riddermarket, they pondered if there were any other signs they could try reading, and after a little more wandering they finally came upon the make-shift pub and the hastily constructed sign at the edge of its borders.

"The Eyl... Eyul... All... nee... new... Inn. The Eallníwe Inn. The All New Inn!" they declared happily, smiling in satisfaction that they had been able to puzzle out one of the more complicated names encountered that day. Then they blushed as they saw Getale had spotted them and they realised what a sight they must make. However the stranger gave them a warm smile and beckoned them in, and Shadowfox decided that they could afford to take a break from their reading efforts to get some shade and maybe a drink, so they stepped inside, smiling and waving one hand nervously at the group of other people (Eldrith, Amadhrill and Cnith) gathered in one part of the space and reaching into their pocket for a coin with the other. Approaching the make-shift bar, they enquired politely "Good day. Is there perhaps a menu or similar that I could read?"

OOC (Sorry for the poor memory, but which out of Cnith and Getale is the woman and which is the man; it wasn't completely clear to me from my reading of the OP and Ama's post and I don't want to accidentally mis-gender even an NPC, particularly with this character.)

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Walpurga

She clutched the letter in her left hand, tracing the ink marks along the paper, and smiled gently. They were crude but crafted with care. The writing was thick and blocky, but it easy to read and understand. Shadowfox might not be literate, but their letters are far better than some of the traveling peddlers that had passed through Benton over the years. She was going to help them learn in exchange for their help reading music. The thought excited her. She had only seen written music a few times in her life and each time it gave her a headache. All the symbols and marks and lines looked like a complete jumble of nonsense. How something like that could produce music was beyond her. But Shadowfox had said they knew how and Walpurga was overjoyed to learn.

She set out from the barracks with her shoulder pack slung over her left side and a thick book, bound in white leather, in her hand. It was the book she had learned to read from and, with a companion, Shadowfox should have a much easier time learning than she did. A tiny snout peeked out from under the flap of the shoulder pack. Hastily, Walpurga booped the nose and there was a protesting squeak inside.

“Not yet you silly thing! Wait until we're inside and then you can have a tiny peek,” she reached into the pack and scritched a tiny ear. She had yet to name the little beast, unable to quite find a name that fit him, but carried him everywhere with her for fear he’d be found and taken by one of her superiors. Marshal Gwai knew about him but she might be able to stop him from getting taken if Walpurga was not around. Best to keep the little one with her. “Who knows, maybe Shadowfox and I can come up with a name for you. I’m sure they know all sorts of names from songs and tales.”

She meandered through the Edoras streets, something that had become a favorite pastime of hers in recent times. She watched all the people going about their days, hurrying from one shop to the next, dashing across the street, shouting news, selling wares. The city was so alive! Benton had been nothing like this. It was mostly farmers or shepherds or the occasional craftsmen. It never had a vibrant, colorful life like this. Every now and then, she received an odd look, or a hostile open stare. She had grown up with these sorts of looks all her life. Having black hair amidst a sea of flaxen gold branded her an outsider from the start of her life. Whoever her father had been, he had been an outlander, and she was the mark of her mother's “shame" as it were. The stares she saw here were of a different nature. Suspicion. A few days ago a few outsiders had been seen making mischief all over town, including starting fires, and then vanished, naturally without much less in the way of a descriptor, she wad looked at through squinted eyes. Thankfully, most of the people didn’t look at her this way and were perfectly content to let her be.

Finally, she arrived at the inn that Shadowfox had mentioned in their letter. Had she seen this inn before? She thought she knew this area. She shrugged and walked through the doorway. The smells of food and beer instantly filled her nose. The smell was so strong she could almost taste the stew. Her stomach growled.

She took a few moments to let her eyes adjust to the light. And there they were! Walpurga beamed with delight. “Shadowfox!” She darted over to the bar, bouncing the cargo in her pack as she did. There was a squeak of protest from inside, but other than that, her passenger remained still and quiet. “I love your nails! Did you paint them yourself? They look marvelous! I’m absolutely famished. Have you ordered yet?”
Strange Fruit got holes in the flesh but it ain't gonn' spoil cause it never was fresh

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She was grumpy and out of sorts, keeping mostly to herself because if she was even slightly honest, this state of mind perplexed her. She chalked it up to a failure to sleep, desiring dearly not to edge near the precipice of dream.

She kept pressing an index finger tightly against the bridge of bone between her eyes, reminding herself to be civil in her encounters, at the very least. Finally, though she knew it a foolish endeavor, she caved into the ridiculous temptation to drown herself in excess of drink. Just this once.

She would regret it, of that she had no doubt.

What she really needed was someone else’s burdens to think about. She ridden out to the Aern after reuniting with Akelda, to try and change out of her fire-stained clothing and sleep a few nights, hoping to catch @Eldrith on the grounds. It was a faint hope, she knew how busy she must be with her plans with @Amadhrill, and did not begrudge her time. Yet it seemed they would never snatch a few moments together to talk. She had so wanted to talk to her.

It wasn’t vanity that made her wash the ragged dress three times as her mind roamed through her part in the events of the great fire, nor was it of sentimental value. It wasn’t worth trying to salvage, but she did so anyway. It would take an enormous amount of mending and still be little more than a rag. But she had hung it out to air and sunshine, and left to go back to the city.

There were only a few that had yet found their way to the makeshift pub, and there could not possibly have been much alcohol to be found after a lions share was destroyed in the past days, so Ber was inordinately relieved to see they had found some ale to serve, at the least.

She gazed about, sought for Eldrith, but did not immediately see her. She tempered her raspy voice to a successful tone of kindness as she quietly addressed Getale for a goodly sized mug of their best ale, knowing full well there was only the one to offer. She pushed double the amount of payment towards the young lass and asked, “bring a second when this one is down to dregs, if you would so kindly?” As she turned to seek a table, she caught a glimpse of the distinctive mark of the Freablods etched into one of the barrels, and the first smile in days crossed her features, though still not reaching her dark-rimmed eyes.

Those same eyes lighted on Ama, and with an inward oath to herself to ‘be civil’, she nodded a greeting with a small sweep of her hand. “How you managed to pull this together is a marvel, Ama! I’m afraid I’m still a bit stiff to recline in the grass, would you mind if I joined you at table?”

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After all the terror.. after wondering if her friends would want to see her after the Campian, it had been surprisingly natural. As if the fire had burned away fears. One could not be there, amidst all gathered, trying to fight the flames and not feel part of a whole, though she wished the fire would not have happened. But when the flames finally had been fully extinguished and the realization dawned that there was no pub, it had been natural, logical to set up a place.

Seeing Ama accept a tankard from Cnith, she smiled hesitantly from across the tent, poking at the fire underneath both cauldrons. Stew or porridge were the offerings for now. With a possibility to fry eggs or bacon on demand. But that was it. They would need to talk.. But for now they'd fallen into the easiest of work routines, as if time had been erased.

Straightening to stretch her back she waved to Shadowfax and Walpurga, though she did not yet dare say "Welcome to the Eallníwe Inn" the way she would have boldly done in times before.

And then she saw another approach Ama, and something within her felt both light and heavy at the time. Lady Bereth. Her friend. Despite everything she had done, every secret she had held, every dishonor.. her friend. Calling on Cnith to take a turn in keeping an eye on the cauldrons in between things, she wiped her hands on her apron, and then hesitantly approached her oldest friends in the Riddermark.
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Kill-Stealing Skirt Wench
When others ride out to win renown, let me chosen to tend the house.

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Amadhrill offered a friendly smile to the patrons entering. She looked at a person, Shadowfax, asked for the menu from Getale and the bar maid looked at her. Ama stood up and quickly walked over, the skirt flowing around her legs.

«I am afraid any menus have not been made yet.» Ama offered. «I leave the writings to Eldrith if I can, I am not much trained in letters...» She shrugged with a smile, reminded of how she had struggled many years ago to learn the art to aid her as a hælend and pub mistress.

«We do offer stew and porridge, I think we have tucked away some egg and bacon if you fancy. There is ale and herbal teas, if you prefer wine, I must ask Eldrith if she has managed to procure it...I am Amadhrill, but do call me Ama.» Just then Walpurga entered under the canopy of the canvas, she smiled at the black-haired dryhtguma. «How are your hands, Walpurga

Amas green eyes glanced towards the hands, and then to the shoulder pack. Had it moved? Was the lass still keeping the baby badger? She had not had the heart to order it disposed of, but she had not expected Walpurga to keep it either. Once more she glanced at the pack with some suspision. However, Bereth's entry took her attention away. «Please, enjoy yourself. Getale and Cnith will see to your needs, and should they not be able to help you, do find me or pubmistress Eldrith and we will do what we can to give you an enjoyable evening!»

She noticed the small smile crossing the lady's features, not reaching the eyes, just before Ama caught Bereths eyes. She returned the nod and waved her ale, nodding to the request. «I much prefer a table, so not at all.» A sight escaped her lips as she sat down, was it the first time today, except for a short meal? She let her feet lift from the ground, enjoying the rest it provided on tired legs.

«I wish I could take the honor for much of this, and I did some, cavalry training has thought me a thing or two... but you know how cavalry campaigns can be...» She grimaced at the memory of stale bread, squished apples, dried meat, and all sorts of unnamed things that had made its way into some sort of stew. «And we hælends are rarely ordered to put up the camp... Nay, Eldrith has her own way of procuring things, ordering us around and making it comfortable... well, not ordering either...»

She took a sip of her ale, not really knowing how to put it. Eldrith didn't need to order them around, she just... sort of waved her hand, made a suggestion here and there, and Cnith, Getale, and she just did it. Even after so many years apart, the four of them was a team, knowing each other so well that there weren't the need for many words of explanation. Then again, Bereth knew Eldrith well too, better then anyone else in the Mark, Ama imagined, yet what did that count for? Her eyes went to Eldrith as the pubmistress wiped her hands and hesitantly approached them.

Ama's eyes studied the other pubmistress as she approached, noting the hesitation. They had not really spoken about what had happened during the Summer Festival, just the brief letters written in haste. And then the fire had happened, and they had done what needed to be done to offer a make-shift pub for the residents and visitors of Edoras. Yet, here they were also the pubmistresses, a team to welcome the patrons, so she smiled at the other pubmistress, not the same friendly, warm smile she had given freely to Bereth shortly before, happy to see an old friend enter. It was a friendly smile, yet she knew that Eldrith would see through it, see the hesitation behind the smile even as she drew out the rickety chair with it's scorchmarks. «You deserve to have a seat too, Eldrith...»

She was beyond the initial shock, anger, and disapointment. She had promised herself that she would not ask the questions she wanted answered. And at the same time she wanted to confess about what she had done, for she felt ashamed at the questions she had asked the Gondorian, the claims she had made in front of the ranger. Ashamed that she had not been able to trust that she would hear the story when it was time for it. Yet, her face did not betray her emotions, showing only the friendly, kind expression appropriate for a pubmistress or a hælend.

@Eldrith @Allacan ob Burzum @Frostbite @Bereth

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Downing two swift and deep gulps from the ample mug of ale, Ber felt the effects warming her empty stomach fairly quickly. She noted Ama’s obvious relief at being able to get off her feet a bit, and was glad to already begin to think of someone else’s struggles besides her own. Surely that had labored long hours to pull this together, and probably with little help as so many were still engaged in rebuilding other structures.

“Ah yes, I do recall the rather trying conditions of a campaign,” her smile warmed a bit more at the mention of Eldrith’s name. And then, there she was.

Ber caught the hitch in Ama’s greeting, quite aware of how close the two must be. She had wondered if they had found the time to speak since the Festival competition, but if they had, it only made the strained greeting even more perplexing. ‘You deserve a seat’ Ber wondered? That seemed an odd thing to say.

So it was a furrowed brow that she turned towards Eldrith, on top of the grim mood Ber couldn’t shake. When she realized that Eldrith may misconstrue her expression, she forced herself to aim a warmer smile as she rose, offering her own seat while she went to drag over another for herself, “How good to see you at last, Dear. I’ve been hoping to find you about for some time.”

Ber stopped herself, realizing she was a babbling nonsense. Draining the mug, she didn’t wait until Getale brought the second, certain she wouldn’t expect to have to so quickly, but fetched it herself and paid ahead for two more before settling down heavily beside the two, who had not yet begun to speak.

@Amadhrill @Eldrith

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Shadowfox, human, they/them with Walpurga (@Frostbite)

Shadowfox turned as Amadhrill approached to respond to their question to Getale about the menus, and they felt a moment of panic as the woman seemed apologetic about not having menus and her own skills in penmanship. They blushed. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it as a criticism, its just that I am trying to improve my reading and I'm a little starved for reading materials; books are expensive, but with such friendly and helpful staff I'm sure you have no need of them here."

The woman introduced herself as Ama, and they offered a hand to shake and went to respond "Hail and well met Ama, I'm... er..." they hesitated unexpectedly as they remembered that they were not presently dressed in their performance gear, and so it would be a little out of sorts to provide their fake stage name when they looked like a normal citizen of Rohan, nor did they intend to hide behind that mask any longer, either literally or metaphorically. They weren't keen on giving the name their family had called them, for fear of news getting back to their parents that they were now openly non-binary in the capital of all places. Having utterly failed to think of a name for themselves that better reflected their new gender-neutral, dual-gender open and public self and they had rather hoped that Walpurga might help them think of a new name today. But they hadn't quite expected to need their new name so soon before such a discussion had taken place; this was an unexpected complication to coming out so spontaneously at the Festival After-Party and having the chance to discuss a new name with their fellow competitors cut short by the sudden inflammatory finale, and in the days since then they had mostly been hiding from society while they processed the anxiety associated with their public declaration and learned to adjust to being 'out'. "Err..." They repeated again like a fool, a little awkwardly.

Just then Walpurga arrived to rescue them from the social dilemma, beaming with delight so much that they returned the look with an equally happy expression of their own.
"Walpurga! Thank you for coming." they said, hoping it didn't sound too much like desperate relief at being able to politely avoid finishing the introduction to Amadhrill. "No, I haven't ordered anything yet, I only just arrived. I was, er... a little distracted practising my reading on the local shop signs." they said with a small blush, then glanced from Ama to their friend's hands in confusion; had Walpurga hurt herself in the recent fires, or had something else happened? As Walpurga joined them at the bar Shadowfox was momentarily distracted as they thought they heard the pack on her back squeak oddly, but shook it off as a strange imagining of their over-creative nervous mind. "I did paint my nails myself; the liquids are rare and take some skill in alchemy to produce, so I save them for special occasions and the festival yesterday seemed a perfect time. They're a little chipped from all the fight-fighting, but it was still worth it for compliments like yours, thank you." They said with another blush while mentally chastising themselves for being so damn nervous and anxious and to pull themselves together, for Nahar's sake!

"They have stew and porridge, and maybe egg and bacon too." They volunteered to Walpurga as Ama excused herself to approach a newcomer. "Drinks are ale or wine, or herbal teas." They left Walpurga to contemplate the choices and make her own requests while they ordered scrambled eggs on toast and a fruity herbal tea (the latter felt very cultured and experimental for Shadowfox, it had been ages since they had drunk herbal tea), then thanked Getale for her offer to bring their food and drink over to their table/blanket/patch of grass when it was ready. As soon as Walpurga had finished their own order and Getale set about beginning the preparations, then took Walpurga's sleeve in hand to gently pull her aside to somewhere they could talk more privately.

"I so glad you came, and again I am so sorry that my writing was terrible but thank you for being willing to.. is that... is that a badger kit?!" Shadowfox gasped as they spotted the little nose peeping out of the shoulder pack, their own words and thoughts completely derailed as they asked the question with hushed incredulity, glancing around the pub as though Walpurga were carrying some sort of prohibited contraband. "You are... you are so... so *brave*! Wow, I... I don't know what to say to that. Oh!" they exclaimed, jumping a little as they had gone to poke at the bag opening and the little creature responded by peeked its nose out of the bag to snuffle at their hand which was hastily withdrawn. "It... it tried to sniff me!" They said, wide-eyed and clearly a little overwhelmed at such behaviour. They glanced at Walpurga, and then nervously moved their hand slowly back towards the peeping face, instinctively flinching back a couple more times, until at last they found the courage to let the little creature snuffle at their fingers, whereupon it began licking at them. Shadowfox giggled "Oh, oh its licking me. Oh it tickles so! Its *adorable*; Walpurga wherever did you *find* it? I thought badgers were aggressive and unsociable and... ouch!" they exclaimed as they suddenly withdrew their hand once more, rubbing their finger and wincing a little as the infant mustelid got a touch too inquisitive and tested its teeth on the interesting digits. "Oh no, its ok Walpurga, I'm ok. It didn't break the skin, it was just a little nip." they re-assured their friend, a little of their nervousness returned but all the same, seemingly won over by the little creature's adorable face. "Is that what happened to your hands, did the badger bite you?" They asked, gesturing at Walpurga's bandages, then rushing excitedly straight into another question before she could respond to the first because they had suddenly recognised the perfect opportunity for a convenient segway. "Does it have a name?"

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Walpurga

Before she had a chance to take in her surroundings and appreciate this… unique inn, Ama appeared. Walpurga let out a little yip of startlement before she composed herself. The woman didn’t frighten her the way the other hæland did but she had a quiet intensity about her that snuck up on Walpurga. “Ama!” she smiled, doing her best to cover her surprise. “It’s good to see you! The hands are doing much better. I’m still taking care of them and wrapping them like you told me.” She raised her hand to show the hæland they were indeed wrapped. As if spurred on by her subconscious, the wolf bites itched when she raised them, an obnoxious tingling feeling deep within the bandages. She only just managed to stop herself from scratching. She had been doing exactly what the healer had told her to do every day, her experience out on that training mission putting the fear of Bema into her. There was no way she was going to ignore a hæland’s commands.

She sat down at the makeshift bar next to Shadowfox and just as she settled in she thought she noticed them, blush? She furrowed her brows for a moment then dismissed it. “There are so many signs out here for you to choose from! Which one was your favorite? There are so many out here that have words and letters that even I don’t know!” she giggled and her stomach growled. “Oh I am famished! I haven’t eaten all day I think.” She watched Shadowfox order the eggs and bacon with herbal tea and made up her mind on the spot. “Oh! I’ll have the same. That sounds fantastic actually. It’s been so long since I had a good herbal tea. Did you know there’s a shop that sells tea? Maybe we can go there sometime and just marvel at all the tea there. I heard it’s owned by the First Marshal so you’ll have to be on your best behavior.” She squinted in mock suspicion then broke out in a grin.

Shadowfox was about to say something about their writing, and Walpurga was already composing a response admonishing them for being too hard on themselves when suddenly Shadowfox became distracted by… oh no! Walpurga had been so distracted by Ama’s sudden appearance (though apparently she was a proprietor so her appearance shouldn’t have been a surprise at all) and the food that she momentarily forgot she had brought the badger cub with her. She looked down at her pack and saw the little pink snout sniffing the air. She blushed crimson. She had theoretically been prepared for such an eventuality but the actual presentation of it flummoxed her. She knew the badger making a slight presence was a possibility, but she hadn’t expected it to pop up so quickly. It must have smelled the food.

“Oh, I, well,” she stammered, glancing hastily over her shoulder to make sure no one else had noticed (please Bema don’t let anyone else notice!). Luckily, it seemed the excitement of sudden arrival of the cub was limited to their private area. “Well, funny story,” she said, or rather stammered again. “I was on the training exercise with the Cavalry and… and we were attacked by badgers,” she lowered her voice and leaned in closer to Shadowfox so only they could hear her, “and this little guy decided to come up to me and start licking my boots and drooling rather than attack. I thought there might be something wrong with it but it seems fine now. I think it’s… what’s the word,” she placed a finger to her lips, thinking, “imprinting I think it what I read once. Yes. I think it’s imprinted on me in the time we’ve been together. Which is really nice actually. I, when I was growing up, no one but the animals around the farm wanted to be my friend, I was weird because I had black hair and no one had black hair in Benton and no one knew who my father was and my mother refused to say anything about him until she told I was just a bad a person as he was one day and I wasn't like everyone else because I didn't want go to the dances and festivals with boys. So I had all sorts of squirrels, skunks, birds, and pigs that acted like my friends.” She stopped, realizing she had shared far too much about the loneliness of her childhood

Walpurga hesitated when Shadowfox pulled away from the pack suddenly, the little cub had made an unexpected exploratory nibble on their finger. “Oh goodness Shadowfox! I’m so sorry. No, no he’s never bitten my before. These,” she held her hands out, “these were from a wolf attack.” Not wanted to alarm and drive away her new found friend (at least she hoped she could call Shadowfox that) she left out the part about her ripping the wolf’s jaw apart with her bare hands. “I haven’t found a good name for him yet,” she said, steering the conversation away from wolves and back to the little brock in her pack. “I was hoping you and I could find a name in here that we both liked.” She set the big book on the bar and smiled. “I know we were getting together for music practice but I brought it just in case you wanted to do some reading too.”
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Shadowfox, human, they/them with Walpurga (@Hoarfrost)

"I think my favourite sign has to be 'Ye Olde Pet Shoppe', but I think that might have been because it was both easy to read and because I like the animal carvings they have over the door. It took me aaaages to figure out 'Awesnis gærwe nædleprica', but I think that was because I thought the thread on the sign was a road and the needle a blown over flagpole or something. I felt like a bit of an idiot when I figured it out, because the pictures are pretty obvious really - next time I need to remember to look in the windows for clues before I go straight to the signs so I don't look like such a ninny"

Shadowfox had a general belief that everyone in the capital was confident and self-assured and that they were the only exception, although after recently growing close to Lailyn they were now beginning to suspect that many other people - just like them - were just trying to maintain composure and pretended they knew what they were doing when inside they were just as lost and confused as anyone else. Walpurga's own confession of not having many friends growing up - and not really feeling like she fitted in with the dresses and dances - hit a chord in Shadowfox whose own history of conflicted gender-expression had its own air of loneliness to it.

They blushed when Walpurga suggested they go shopping for tea.
"Actually, that would be nice..." they subconsciously fingered there few remaining coins in the pocket and ignored the hallow feeling in their stomach. "Maybe another day though." Their eyes went even wider in wonder as Walpurga described her recent cavalry ventures, and then gazed at the little badger nose poking out of the bag curiously. "Imprinting? That sounds... I don't really know how that sounds to be honest. I suppose if it showed no hint of being violent when others were attacking and now sees you as its... mother?... then its probably safe. And it *is* very cute! I can see why you decided to keep it, and it sounds like your history of being a friend to all animals means you will make an excellent mother for it." They smiled as they offered the compliment, then felt a wave of relief as the pretty cavalry dryhtguma engaged enthusiastically in the topic of names.

“I haven’t found a good name for him yet, I was hoping you and I could find a name in here that we both liked.” They laughed at the comment, before quickly covering their mouth and glancing around to make sure no-one was paying them to much mind. "What a co-incidence; you need a name for the badger-kit, and I need a name for... well..." they hesitated a moment, glancing around again more nervously this time, unable to quite finish the sentence just then. Thankfully their awkwardness was derailed by the big book that Walpurga suddenly hefted onto the bar. For a long time, they simply stared at it, over-awed, before at last asking rather stupidly and unnecessarily. "Is that... is that a book? A real book? You own a *book*" They looked back at Walpurga and this time the expression of wonderment and admiration was unmistakable. They reached one tentative hand out to touch the spine but then drew back as though afraid to touch it, blushing. "I couldn't read something that precious, not here at least. I'd be too embarrassed. What if I dropped it, or damaged it?"

Right then Getale brought over their food and drinks and Shadowfox, pulled from their reverence of the tome and its owner, leaned subtly in such a manner as to appear to be adjusting their boot-laces but in reality shielding the bag from the server's sight, pretending to cough a little to cover the sound of the little badger's snuffling and smiling gratefully when the woman offered to fetch some water also. "No, thank you, I'm fine. This looks and smells delicious, thank you". They turned back to Walpurga again, not entirely sure what to say now that their awkwardness was creeping back in so they settled for taking a long sip of the fruity herbal tea, which helped to settle their nerves a little.

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Walpurga

It was nice, sitting there with Shadowfox. For the time being at least, she could forget the world around her and focus on someone else. Her own problems seemed petty and far away with Shadowfox. Was this what it was like to have a friend? Walpurga didn’t know. It was a nice feeling. She smiled a little. She liked hearing about Shadowfox’s adventures in reading the signs in the Riddermarket. Truth be told even she had a hard time reading some of them even with her years of reading experience. It wasn’t until they mentioned Walpurga being an “excellent mother” that her smile dropped a little. She hadn’t allowed herself to think of herself as a mother, mostly because of how the relationship with her own mother had soured before she left. Given her proclivities, she had given up the idea of being an actual mother as well. A well of emotion began forming in her throat. She swallowed it down and hoped Shadowfox didn’t notice and think they had done something wrong. They were so skittish Walpurga didn’t want them blaming themselves for her own doubts and hesitations. Would she be a good mother? The thought lingered in her mind a little longer than she would have liked. Still, she maintained her smile, making sure it reached her eyes.

“What’s in a name?” Walpurga said with a silly flourish. “I think we should call ourselves whatever we want and I think if we want to be something different everyday then we should pick what we want to be called every day. I happen to love the name Walpurga so I don’t feel the need to change it. What about Brocktree for this little munchkin?” She booped the little badger’s nose. “He looks like a Brocktree. What do you think?”

She pursed her lips in thought as the question from Shadowfox hung unfinished and heavy in the air. Even though they hadn’t said the full question, Walpurga completely understood what they were saying. “What we call ourselves is far, far more important than what we let others call us. When you wake up in the morning, who do you feel like? What name, what image do you see when you think of yourself?” She took Shadowfox’s hand in hers and looked deeply into their eyes. “Who are you, Shadowfox? Who do you want to be?”

Walpurga took a deep breath and held it for a moment. She kept her gaze on Shadowfox, but her expression was soft and understand, her eyes gentle and open. The light caught Shadowfox’s hair and exploded in bright golden light, giving them something like a halo from Walpurga’s perspective. She chuckled softly. Gold motes of dust floated about their head, shimmering like stars before they blinked out of existence. The smell of baking bread, the smell of horses and rain and smoke from outside filtered in. Her nose itched for a second. It smelled much like home, the more she thought about it. The other real difference was the sound that accompanied the smells. There were dozens, scores of voices all mixing and intermingling. Every now and then she could make out a few words here and there, but her focus was on Shadowfox. “If you ask me,” she said after a moment, “I don’t think you should hide in the shadow anymore. You’re fully of brilliant bright light. I think you’re name should reflect that.”

The conversation drifted to the book she’d brought with her. Walpurga didn’t think about it until Shadowfox’s reaction to it but it would look like a strange thing if you’d never really seen one, especially not one this big. “Don’t you be silly!” she gently admonished her companion. “Of course you could read it. Here, touch it. It won’t bite. I promise. I…. well I don’t own it technically. My… it belongs to my mother technically I suppose you could say. I, I think I stole it.” she took a deep breath and gulped. She hadn’t actually thought about that before. “It was a gift from my… father,” the word nearly made her choke, “to my mother. She thinks it was a way to mock her after he left but, but I don’t think so. I mean, I don’t really know what it was meant to be but, but it is a very nice book and I doubt anyone would go to so much trouble just to get a laugh from something. Who knows though.” She shrugged and mirrored Shadowfox, taking a sip of her tea. The taste was wonderful and warm, there was a hint of sweetness in the after taste. She closed her eyes and sighed, trying to quell the sudden upwell of emotions. This was not the time for such things. She and Shadowfox had work to do.
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Amadhrill watched her friend and fellow pub mistress, Eldrith hesitantly approach where she was seated together with Bereth. Ama wanted her to sit down, have the time to talk about what had happened, or if she was not ready for it, just sit with them. They would talk, remember old days and drink an ale and admire their hard work. Her cheeks were still flushed from the hard work of setting up the provisory pub.

Bereth seemed to mirror Amas feelings with her greeting of Eldrith, and for what seemed a long time Eldrith seemed to be about to sit down and join the two of them. But then the moment was interrupted by a cry and a few words not suitable for young ears from Cnith. Ama was on her feet imidiately, but Eldrith was quicker, gesturing for Ama to remain seated. And Eldrith was gone, again hidden behind the counter and between the provisory kitchen of sorts that they had built up. A distinct smell of burnt stew floated under the oiled canvas as Getale the bar maid came over to Ama and Bereth. «Cnith burnt the stew, it boiled over, Eldrith said she would take care of it and for you to entertain the patrons!»

«Is he all right? Did he burn himself?» Ama speaks in a worried voice, getting a smile and small laugh in return from the bar maid. «Oh, it just went on the ground, not to worry, hælend! It is just a mess, but Cnith and Eldrith will clean it up.»

Ama nods and sits down again, turning towards Bereth. Just as she turns to face Bereth she notices how Walpurga and her friend seem bent down over something in Walpurgas bag. «Always something to be done... I had hoped that Eldrith would get off her feet too, for a little at least. Have a good conversation and remember that she belongs here, in Rohan, in Edoras, even in this... I don't know if we can really call it a pub at the moment... Do you think she knows that? That she belongs here, for good and bad?» Ama looks into Bereth eyes, pleading for a moment, wanting a confirmation that things will go back to normal.

Then she gathers herself, she smiles a little appologetic. She shrugs and drinks from her mug. «Now, I am sure I have seen something moving over there...» she gestured towards the pair sitting, now bent over a book it seems. «Walpurga, the dark haired one, we only finished the last cavalry excercise, and she seemed to have found a badger baby. But I was assuming that she had it... well... killed. Seeing as the badgers have really given us a lot of trouble lately.»

(OOC: godmoding done with @Eldrith permission)
@Bereth @Mama's Murder Muffin @Allacan ob Burzum

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Shadowfox, human, they/them with Walpurga (@Mama's Murder Muffin) and being watched by @Amadhrill

Shadowfox had felt an internal lurch of anxiety when Walpurga's face dropped unexpectedly at their compliments of her making a good badger-mum. They weren't sure exactly what had caused the young woman's face to fall, they only felt a moment's guilt and fear that they were doing a terrible job of making friends with this pretty maid. In much the manner of many youngsters, Shadowfox was entirely ignorant to the fact that Walpurga's sense of social anxiety and awkwardness matched (if not eclipsed) their own, and only felt a desire to impress this seemingly charismatic and confident person so that they could display such a sense of self-assurance. Walpurga had moved swiftly on from the moment of awkwardness with a bright smile, but it played on Shadowfox's nerves and made them even more keen not to alienate this person further.

At her poetic question, Shadowfox instinctively murmured to finish the thespian quote
"...a rose by any other name would smell as sweet. I agree that sometimes it is good to have the liberty to be someone new every day, to greet each morning as a fresh start, but... I want people to remember me too..." ('I don't want to be forgotten' they thought silently to themselves in the sanctuary of their own mind). "I think everyone wants to be remembered, deep down inside." ('And loved, or at least be found worthy of love' their thoughts added with a melancholy air'.) The pensive moment was broken by Walpurga's suggestion of a name for the badger and their face lit up in a wide smile of pure joy. "Oh I love it! Brocktree is a brilliant name!" they replied enthusiastically, forgetting for a moment that they were supposed to be behaving secretively about the mustelid in the bag and reaching down with a bit of egg to offer it to the badger as a peace offering, recoiling perhaps just a touch too nervously still.

Walpurga seemed the insightful sort, for a moment later and it seemed she was speaking not to the figure who was seated on the table opposite her, but instead to the soul of the confused, lost, lonely creature hidden within. They opened their mouth to answer, and then hesitated as they tried to find the right words, and a second later they seemed to glow with a new-found confidence when Walpurga's words spoke aloud their own half-formed thoughts and cemented the resolution within them.
"You are absolutely right! I don't want to hide any more. I used to feel like Shadowfox, or at least, behind that name is where I used to feel safest, and most able to be myself. But now I have stepped out from the mask and the shadows and am trying to... well... show my real self, without hiding, without the masks and the darkness to hide me... it feels like a lie, almost, to keep calling myself something I am not. Not that I *am* lying, I *am* Shadowfox, or rather that is who I used to be. But... it just doesn't seem right to keep the name that reflects my hiding in the shadows." A self of realisation and resolve settled about them, and they sat up straight, staring at an empty point in the middle-distance, before stating in a more confident tone, speaking as much to themselves as to their companion. "I am not going to hide in the shadows any more. I want to be me, where everyone can see me for who I really am. I don't care what they might call me, I just... I don't want to be in the shadows, but I don't think I am ready to be in the bright light either. I just..." they turned back to Walpurga, a little of their insecurity and nervousness returning. "...I just don't know who I am without the fox-mask? I don't know what to call myself. I have been the fox in the shadows for so long, wary and lithe, I don't really know what I am without it. Even without the shadows, I don't know how to choose a name that feels as much me now, as I felt Shadowfox did then. And... despite everything, I'm a little sad to leave my old name behind, because its what my friends know me as, and I don't want to lose my friends. But... I know I can't be that person any more."

They reached a hand out to stroke the beautiful book again; pages and pages of words - maybe inside these covers they might find a name for themselves; it was one of the reasons they had invested their efforts in to reading, in the hopes some collection of words might spring into their mind that just seemed 'right' somehow, but every time they tried it felt too convoluted and complex and awkward... all the combinations of words they had thought have had either felt too self-deprecating, or too arrogant. One thing was for certain; it was harder to choose a name for your everyday self than it was for a stage character! Somehow, there was so much more pressure to get it right.

Their thoughts were brought abruptly back to the room at Walpurga's sudden confessions of ex-appropriation, and they suddenly found themselves giggling in a foolish manner that eased much of their tension.
"Well at least you are honest about it!" they commented in as complimentary a manner as they could, then softened at Walpurga's next emotional confessions. Their expression creased into a gentle frown as they reconsidered the book again, reading between the lines that Walpurga either may not have known her father, or her memory of him was tarnished by his 'leaving', as she put it. For a moment they were not really sure what to say, before eventually settling on. "It must have been difficult for you, but it is good that you have something from you father to keep with you. I would love to read this book, but I would not be comfortable seeing it parted from you for any time; would you mind if perhaps we could meet another day in a quieter place, and you could sit with me while I try to read it, and maybe help me with the harder words? And, if we can find somewhere private, we could also sing together without fear of being overheard in either activity. And we can practice the song piece I have chosen for Éowyn; I have a feeling you will like it. One of the lines is literally 'Out of the shadows, the morning is breaking and all is new'..."

They reached into their pocket and pulled out two pieces of carefully folded parchment on which was written two set of lyrics, carefully scribed by another friend who had been kind enough to offer them a steady hand for this important task. Shadowfox considered the two pages for a moment, then slid one of them over to Walpurga so she could read the first few lines, instinctively feeling like perhaps these would speak to the young woman the most:-

(After intro, solo section)
Have you ever felt like nobody was there?
Have you ever felt forgotten in the middle of nowhere?
Have you ever felt like you could disappear?
Like you could fall, and no one would hear?
...

As Walpurga read the lyrics, Shadowfox unconsciously reached down to offer another piece of egg to the little badger-kit. They were so caught up in the emotional discussion and had completely forgotten that they were supposed to be keeping the little creature's presence a secret, oblivious that they were gaining suspicious glances from the watchful Amadhrill who was looking increasingly like she might join them once again in an effort to satisfy her curiosity.

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Well.. the stew.. matter had at least one advantage.. By the time she returned to the front of the tent, she was wiping her hands, and somehow had forgotten most of her nerves. Maybe not all, but there was something soothing about the simple fact that she had solved something, done something she had done a hundred times: cleaned up. The towel in her hands gave her something to do and while her pace maybe slowed down as she approached her friends again*

I am glad to see you..

*it was a quiet approach. Well, she'd seen Ama, but setting up the 'pub' meant they had not had a chance to speak except to arrange barrels, secure canvas and somehow get enough ale here to actually serve. She had not actually been able to.. talk. And then there was Bereth. They had written. At least enough to know she was not cast out. At least enough that her friends were still friends..

Looking around she saw others at the inn, saw Shadowfax and Walpurga, seemingly in deep conversation and then giggling.. it seemed as if things were.. being put to right after the fire.*
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Amadhrill watched @Walpurga and her friend for a little, though she tried not to seem unfriendly or unwelcoming. Her thoughts were interrupted as @Eldrith finally made her way back towards them. The quiet approach, hands busy... so familiar even after all the years they had not worked together but been busy with their own. Again her head was filled with the same anger, confusion, and disapointment as she had felt earlier, that had driven her to find a training sword in the middle of the night after having talked to the ranger.

She took a deep breath, letting the feelings pass through her. «Have a seat, freond min! Cnith and Getale can do without you, us, for a moment...» She took a sip of her drink, pondered for a moment if she should bring up all the questions she had, where had the pubmistress learned to fight like that? Had she been trained by the rangers? Why did she fight so similar to their style, yet the ranger said she did not fight like a ranger but also that she had been with the Gondorian rangers? Her face remained calmed, friendly but measured. She leaned back on the wobly chair, stretched her legs out, and took another sip.

Amas green eyes looked carefully at her friend, for so she still thought, and when she spoke her voice was soft and gentle with a note of consern «How have you been... after the festival?»
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*She did take a seat at the invitation, grateful for it. She wasn't tired, but to sit with a friend, to still be allowed to, be invited to. it mattered. Laying the towel aside she sat down. With the lack of tables, and the lack of furnishings, she felt.. uneasy on what to do with her hands though. Her eyes tried to read Ama's face. She seemed... careful, and so was Eldrith. So long they had known each other and yet... at the moment she was not sure she could guess your thoughts.

The words spoken however were welcoming, you seemed relaxed and the voice.. was one of concern more than condemnation. She let out a breath that she had not even known she was holding before answering*

I... not so well. Well.. better than I expected and hoped. But at the same time.. I needed some time. And I wasn't certain Bereth would still welcome me in her house.. I wasn't sure you.. well.. *she shrugged, uneasy.* I am glad to have this chance.. *she gestured around, to the tent, to the people sitting, to the place of welcome they had created after the fires* We could.. that is if you still want.. we could start up the Aeldsel... again. The building will need repairing but...
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NPC: Goldwhæt Dughlaich (AKA Pappa Smurf)

The pub might be a temporary thing, but the ale was as good as any the crusty mariner had supped in many a long day. He sat quietly, and he hoped inconspicuously, in a dark corner under the canvas roof.

His trip from the Infirmary to Silæs’s garret abode in Auld town had been tricky. He’d had to wait for a procession of wains to distract the guards at the North Gate before sneaking into the city. A blue-hued fellow, wrapped in sheets and bandages, could hardly go unnoticed, and despite furtive slipping ‘twixt shadowed doorways and shaded vennels, he’d alarmed several denizens of Edoras.

A gaggle of terrified children, who no doubt thought Allhallowtide had come several weeks early, had stirred a hue and cry at the sight of him, blocking his progress to the cottage of Aodh Hammerhelm.

Mayhap, that was for the best. The last occasion that he’d sought clothing from his friend, without permission, had resulted in a catastrophic fire at the Æthelmund Tavern. And Edoras had surely had its fill of fires for a year at least to come.

He had found clothing at Silæs’s, though his friend was not at home, and a few coins to help him on his way. Not enough to fund a trip down to Pelargir, but enough to buy him a brew or two. And the time to think things through. His fishing sojourn in Gondor was scuppered... There was no way he could present himself at Golde ge Eorcanstan to garner cash in his current state.

One other option presented itself, and it was a sound one. Grünewæld’s! Aye-so, perfect! A fine spot to rest and recuperate – somewhere out of the way until the shocking pigment faded from his skin.
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Shadowfox, human, they/them with Walpurga (@King Bull Sparra) and glancing over at Goldwhæt Dughlaich curiously but not-unfriendly (@Aodh Hammerhelm)

They had conspired over the song for a time, and the world had moved on around them it had seemed. Shadowfox was in the process of glancing around at the pub staff hoping to get a refill of their tea when they spotted a figure across the room with an odd colouration to their skin. Circus folk? Their mind immediately questioned. They had personally known many people skilled with make-up and the art of the body during their own years in the circus, but they were a little surprised to see someone thus coloured in such a place as this. They turned back to Walpurga, still listening and nodding along to her words but their mind half-pondering who this stranger might be. Another performer, perhaps? Should they offer to buy them a drink, albeit Shadowfox's own coin was running short? Maybe they should stop nosying and just leave the person to their own business; they may not want the curious company of a stranger. All the same, they could not help shooting the odd nervous glance over at the in the dark corner, ready to offer a friendly, welcoming smile should their eyes meet.

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«I want to...give it a try at least, see if we can lure patrons in as we did in the old days. I want for Edoras to return to it's former prosperity and merriment.» Ama sighed softly, part of her wanted to return to life as it had been fifteen years previously, yet she did not wish for it. She wished to return to the time when she (at least thought that she) knew Eldrith. Before the soft-spoken pubmistress had offered her service, albeit not her sword, to the cavalry. Before she had wielded weapons so earily alike the Gondorian Rangers, yet, in a way not similiar. Ama could not forget the words of the Ranger in the party tent.

She squared her shoulders and looked firmly into Eldriths eyes, her mind made up. She was never one to be angry or dissapointed for a long time. Yes, her friend had shown a different side, one Ama had never even imagined was there, one that was scary to behold, but also gave her a sort of confused pride for how far in the campian the pubmistress had been able to hold her ground. For a moment she did not speak, but weighed the words carefully, so unlike the impulsive young pubmistress of her past. She was older now, experienced in many ways. The recent fire had also added it's weight. Lives had been lost, houses and homes and futures had burnt to the ground.

When she spoke her voice was low and firm, neither friendly nor unfriendly, but rather matter-of-factly. «I will start the Ældsel up again, if you still wish to share the load and you inform me of any other secret or well-hidden... talent... you have that might give me reason to doubt your trust in me. I need to know that I have your trust, though I do not expect you to tell me everything of either past, present, or future. I hope you will trust me and talk to me if you need, a burden shared is a burden halfed as it is said... but I cannot do this if I do not have your trust, for I cannot trust you if you do not trust me.»

Her green eyes that had been so firmly fixed on Eldrith relaxed and her body seemed to relax to. She felt a tension in the shoulders, forced herself to breath deeply and relax the shoulders. There, it was said, in words she believed to be clear enough for the other pubmistress to understand her intentions and her feelings. It still hurt to think that Eldrith had not trusted her enough to mention her own past and affiliation to the Gondorian Rangers, the longstanding ally of Rohan. Though Ama could also think of a good many reasons she had not mentioned it; time, opportunity, then much time had passed and should probably have been mentioned, a trauma to close, ill choices no longer relevant...

Another patron entered under the canvas, in the darkness there seemed to be a blue hue on his skin, though she could not be sure. And Walpurga and her friend still seemed into their own conversation.
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NPC: Goldwhæt Doughlaich (AKA Pappa Smurf)

Hungry flames, a night out in the rain, and a thundering hangover, had not dulled the old sea-dog’s senses entirely. While he mused and fussed over his next move, he became aware of someone watching him.

He raised his mug, sipped carefully at its meagre contents, and eyed the neighbouring tables. He caught the nervous glance of a person (Shadowfox), and peered over at them through bloodshot eyes. There was a woman (Walpurga) sitting with the strange fellow/lass?

Rusty was certain that neither of the pair were known to him - he’d certainly never had the pleasure of the comely woman’s company! But he wondered now if the possibility of a free brew might have presented itself. That, and the chance to dust off his long neglected chat-up lines.

He waited patiently for the edgy individual to look his way again. And, when they did, he beamed a welcoming grin in their direction.


--
@Allacan ob Burzum & @Tremarctos ornatus
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*There were a thousand emotions she could read on her friend's face, passing through her eyes. It was almost as if Eldrith was holding her breath to see where it would land. Her lashes falling over her own eyes, shuttering her gaze as she waited, and finally the word came and with it.. almost a release. She let a breath escape that she had barely realized she was STILL holding. And then she replied, her voice pitched soft even as her eyes carefully went over those gathered within the pub, making sure her words were only for Bereth and Amadhrill. She did not like to talk about it even to them. But they were her friends. She was close to them. They had earned the right to at least know more even if she did not speak of all.*

I do not think.. I have more secrets. That is.. I do, but they're all related to.. *The once pubmistress made a vague gesture with her hand, as if to indicate 'all' or 'what had happened'.* I can say that what you've seen while we worked together is not.. a deceit. It may not be the full truth but it is who I am. Who I chose to be. What came before is gone. Is past. I have had temptation enough in the past to pick up weapons as you've seen. And I have not. What happens now.. I do not know. A folly came over me in participating. I wanted to help. To lend a hand to the cavalry and I figured overcoming one fear would.. well.. .. you saw what happened. It was a foolish endeavor that brought home more of the past, more of what was learned than I ever wanted to see resurface. More even than I've employed this last year at Aern Freablod in defense of the goats and the home... I am who I am. WHo I have always been, and Bema willing I will not be using a weapon again. Although..

*She paused, then shook her head and shrugged. This was where she belonged. Restoring the position of quarter master in the Cavalry did not change that. She would fix the storage space. Make certain the gear was in good condition. And with any luck, and the help of her friends.. she would open the inn once more that would welcome people from Rohan and travelers alike. Even Gondorians.*
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Shadowfox, human, they/them with Walpurga (@A BEAR A BEAR) joining Goldwhæt Dughlaich (@Aodh Hammerhelm)

The strangely tinted individual caught their eye, and for a moment they reflexively dropped their gaze in embarrassment, but then forced their eye-line back up to meet his gaze, their own face opening up into a wide grin in mirror of his own welcoming smile. Walpurga seemed intently focussed on memorising her lyrics for the proposed performance, so Shadowfox took their mug of tea and stood up, crossing through the space to where Goldwhæt was seated. As they did so, they took a deep breath and braced themselves to be extra courageous; you had to meet people to make friends after all. "Well met stranger, I don't suppose you fancy sharing some tea with me? And are you a trained performer? I'm sorry if you aren't, I just saw the face colouring and figured maybe it was stage-paint, but its okay if it is not, of course. It still looks very good." The words tumbled out quickly because of their nerves and as they concluded, they slammed their mouth shut in embarrassment even as their own face turned an impressive rosy hue in juxtaposition to the seated fellow.

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Her green eyes returned to @Eldrith, watching her reaction carefully, noticing the uneven breath. She leaned forward so not to miss the soft words, meant for her and @Bereth only. She forced her face to remain calm and neutral at the words she heard, not wanting her feelings to be read before she had sorted them out herself as well as she would be able to at least. The words were cryptic in a way, yet they made sense to Ama.

She took her time, not to keep Eldrith waiting, but to gather her thoughts and feelings. She felt as if she was making judgement, and it made her uncomfortable, it was not her intention to judge her friend. All she wanted was for the friendship, the trust between them, to be returned to balance. Her eyes betrayed her, to those close enough to read them and who knew her well. She noticed the word, although, the hesitation about use of weapons. Her mouth opened, as if she wanted to speak, closed and then she tried again. «I...»

She smiled apologetic towards Eldrith and spoke, her words slow now, hesitating and searching for the right words. «The past is as is it is... and it is good to know, should the need come...» Then she shrugged, a shadow of a smile pasing over her face. «I never want to see you with weapons again, may the need never come for you to have to reconsider your choice!»

Then she held out her hand, a gesture of friendship but also to force the words she wanted out. Her voice was soft and low, yet firm. «Then I have your trust?»
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Hælend of Meduseld

Esquire of The Mark
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*the sound that came was soft, and it was full of relief. Not just about the fact that you accepted a past, clearly different from what you had expected to belong to her. That you were willing to see past what had happened in that ring. But also.. that one phrase.* «I never want to see you with weapons again, may the need never come for you to have to reconsider your choice!» No pressure to take up a blade, no insistence she'd defend Rohan, or at the very least this pub. No, you accepted the aberration. And you accepted her. As she was. As she chose to be.

Oh yes. Yes, you have my trust. All of my trust.. *Her own hand reached out, fingers folding over yours and surrounding them. And now, now that breath came out and was let go of. As if she had held it all that time. For one who'd faced steel in the arena with no emotions, who'd worked throughout the fire and the aftermath in seeming calm deliberation, this moment almost seemed to undo her. THere were tears in her eyes that she didn't bother to hide, though she tilted her face slightly back, eyes to the ceiling of the makeshift tent to stop them from falling.

Aye, Amadrhill of the Aeldsell. You have all my trust, and I can think of nothing I would rather do, than build it again.. and work at it, and make it a place for those who come home from their adventures to be tended to. Let me stay home... and make sure there is food and beds to await them. *And as if relief allowed her to make a jest as well* And I am going to fix the roof of the armory if I have to climb on it myself...
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Kill-Stealing Skirt Wench
When others ride out to win renown, let me chosen to tend the house.

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NPC: Goldwhæt Dughlaich (AKA Pappa Smurf)

The crusty mariner regarded his new tafelmaatjie (Shafowfox) through slit eyes. The brightness under the canvas was playing havoc with his hung-over head, but his gaze was sharp all the same. The lad (lass?) was obviously of nervous disposition, a trait exacerbated, mayhap, by his appearance. Who would not be put on the back foot by a blue stained stranger?

“Tea? Performer?” he said at length, favouring his blushing visitor with what he hoped was a winning smile. “To the first… Nay, thankee – I never touch the stuff, it plays havoc with me digestion, do you kennit. Ale now, hmmm, that seems to get everything working just fine.”

The old sea dog fell silent, hoping the stranger would offer him a mug of something stronger (and tastier) than char. “I’m Rusty,” he continued. “Rustbucket Dooley. And aye, I suppose I am a performer of sorts: I can turn my hand to most stringed instruments, and I have (or so I've been told) a fine, rich voice.

As for the strange hue I'm currently sporting, that’s a tale long in the telling. Pull up a chair – once you've got us each a fresh drink! – and I’ll tell you all you want to know.

What’s your name, by the way?”


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@Allacan ob Burzum
- he hath not forgotten Image the face of his fathers -

Thain of The Mark
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Shadowfox, human, they/them with Rustbucket Dooley (@Aodh Hammerhelm)

Their eyes widened at the course dialect, but a moment later they were smiling appreciatively. It was a homely, rustic sound that warmed them to the stranger (hopefully soon-to-be friend). They nodded respectfully all the same at the rejection of the tea, feeling enlightened by the idea that someone's digestion could react poorly to fruit tea and wondering if perhaps they should have offered something alternative. They were, however, somewhat concerned that what little coin they had earned in the recent summer festival might not stretch so far as the any alcohol less common than "Ale I could afford" they said, mostly to themselves, before returning his winning smile with a shy counterpart.

They turned towards the bar and tried for a moment nervously to catch the attention of one of the bar-staff, even getting so far as waving awkwardly towards Eldrith and Amadhrill before thankfully Cnith came to their rescue and nodded at their request of a half-pint of ale for their companion, foregoing a drink for themselves when they still had half a mug of hot tea to sip.

"Rustbucket Dooley?! Well that is a name for the sagas if ever I heard one!" they declared enthusiastically without thinking. Their eyes took on a vaguely distant look as they felt a few musical notes form in their head, a waltzing refrain, slow and steady like the sea... They pulled their focus back forcefully, but the notes continued on in the back of their mind as they drank in the sight of this man; his sharp, bright eyes, a face that might be youthful and innocent had the wild elements not aged it, and that voice! It was like the sea-wind itself, with a stormy resonance that would reverberate through the planking of a ship.

They almost missed the seat of the chair they dragged to the table, so enraptured by him were they, and eagerly cupped their mug in their hand and leant forward perhaps a little more than necessary.
"I'm Fox" they said, without even thinking, for the moment ignorant to the fact they had even given only part of their stage name. "Please, do tell your tale, for I already feel like it will be one I will be honoured to hear."

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NPC: Goldwhæt Dughlaich (AKA Pappa Smurf)

The blue-hued mariner took the half of ale from his new acquaintance, and offered her - or was it him? - a gap-toothed grin. Sagas? the sea-dog thought to himself, not without a smidgen of pride, before his brow furrowed slightly. But what tales had his companion heard told of him? Good ones he hoped, though of course there were many bawdy records of his exploits that were best expunged from the lays of the Riddermark.

"Thankee-sai, Sai Fox," he said over the lip of the mug. "You are most kind, and I am in your debt. My purse was lost, along with my clothing, a few days back. I’d been fulfilling my annual duties as course-master at the annual Tub Race when misfortune overtook me. Take a word from the wise, Sai Fox: Do not under any circumstances mix rivers, Wildmen from Dunland and their strong liquor together. These things be a dangerous combination and account for my rather strange colouration.

The Wild fellows – tame ones, kennit! – decided to induct me into their clan. A strange business it was, one I might have fled had I not been drink taken. I was drunk though! Not drunk enough to allow them to mark me with permanent tattoos, but tipsy enough to be daubed in boar fat and woad sigils. Water and sun have merged the two, which accounts for me being this weird shade of blue, and no amount of scrubbing has shifted the Dunlending daubings!"


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@Allacan ob Burzum
- he hath not forgotten Image the face of his fathers -

Esquire of The Mark
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She felt the hand, so familiar, strong and soft at the same time, as she remembered it. She let the relief flood through her as the words came from @Eldrith. Ama smiled as Eldrith looked up to prevent the tears from falling, and she felt her own eyes fill up with her own tears. Amadhrill of the Ældsell

Ama laughed suddenly brightly and relieved as she joyfully listened to the pubmistress words, soft as always, friendly and caring, at the same time taking no nonsense. «Eldrith and Amadhrill of the Ældsell» She repeated and returned a strong grip. Then her face turned serious, though her eyes twinkled merrily as she looked up and uncermoniously wiped away the tears that had escaped her eyes.

«Now we do have a lot of work to do with the pub, I have not seen if it survived the fire, have you? Then of course the armoury will require quite a lot of work....» She caught the awkward wave from the androgynous person Shadowfax who had been sitting with Walpurga. Ama was about to head over to the bar and give a hand when Cnith returned with an ale to the patron. Her eyes followed the patron to their new companion, a blue hued fellow. She let go of Eldrith's hand with the same smile, no longer any hesitation in her eyes. There were much planning that needed to be done, but the pub was also slow, Bereth and Walpurga seemed lost in their own thoughts. She was split, to take the moment and plan what could be planned about the rebuilding of their old pub, or join the rather odd patrons.

«What say you, shall we join our patrons and here what they say? Or sit for a little and plan what can be planned about our future pub?»
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Hælend of Meduseld

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I think we should do.. both..

*The reply to Amadhrill's question came easy and with a chuckle, but you could not help that there was a tremble within that chuckle. She had not been certain, not until now, that she would have that new beginning. And the relief came with a weakness of it's own. She could use a drink herself. A strong one, and as she saw Cnith return to the improvised bar, she gestured to him, then indicated herself and Ama. It would be a good way to seal the new plans.*

I am afraid the new pub did not fair too well.. Though I believe everyone managed to get out. We will have to choose between building from the ground up.. or see what can be done to repair the old building..


*Gesturing to the people who had found their way under the shelter and were sitting and drinking or talking she gave a shrug*
Might as well ask what they think. Some of them may remember the old place or have a better idea of what is there currently. I've.. avoided going in for a long time. Memories. And I've not come to Meduseld until a few months ago. Aern Freablod needed me. But now that Bereth is back...

She looked over towards the blue hued patron and the figure sitting with them. And then there was the wave. Well, that sealed the deal, right? She angled her body to include Amadhrill and waved back to Shadowfox.*
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Kill-Stealing Skirt Wench
When others ride out to win renown, let me chosen to tend the house.

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