The Green Dragon inn

[Lirimaer]

Henna Lightfoot

Henna arrived home rather quickly, and soon found out that dream-bouncing round her hobbit hole was not quite as fun as dream-bouncing down the lane in the open air. She had to force herself to calm down and walk slowly, or there would be a terrible lot of bruises in the morning. She locked the door, because even dream-Henna was quite conscientious, and after just a little bread-and-butter pudding and a cup of tea, she lay down in her bed and closed her eyes.

It was still light outside, which was a little persistent of her dream, but she knew crazy dream shenanigans when she saw them. Within moments, she was asleep, curled up like a child, under the covers.

Since it was actually only early afternoon, this was a testament to the advancing age of the elderly hobbit, who occasionally liked to have forty winks in the afternoons, particularly after a large meal. In any case, she was asleep, and it has been said that sleep is healing.

[Eamila Bolger]

(OOC: @Silmarë and @Dwim and @Lirimaer sorry you guys, we've been traveling for a few days and I wasn't able to have much internet time. Back now!)

Ea looked at Tara and Dwim quite suspiciously. 'So you have been drinking this beer yourself? Lately? And it is... doing you well?'
She looked at the last blue feathers on the ground and shivered. She would seem quite impolite if she said 'no' to this offer. But what if she, after the narrow escape with the cake, would end up poisoned by something even worse?
Henna was something else of course. There was no possible way she could get any worse.
'I could of course try to walk over to Henna's place and see if she would accept another drink from me. As for myself: I've had enough for this day, if you don't mind.'
Suddenly she was in a hurry. 'I'll see how Henna is doing!', she cried out as she walked away from the pub and all it's strange visitors. She couldn't wait to tell Istya and Menolly about all this. They sure had missed a lot!

It took her only a few minutes to walk down the lane to the hobbit hole near the willow. With every step, the adventures of that afternoon felt stranger and harder to believe. Had they really happened, or was this all just a bad dream? Would her friends believe the story, or would they just laugh at her?

'Mrs. Bolger! Come look!' A young, happy voice woke her up from her heavy thoughts. It was Peony Hornblower, a little girl that lived nearby. She smiled at the young child.
'What is it, dear lass?'
Proudly the brown haired girl lifted her hands towards Eamila. 'I fwound all these bweautiful bwue feathers!'
Ea swallowed hard. So this wasn't a dream. 'They are lovely, Peony!' she said with a weak smile. 'Take good care of them, for I don't think you will find feathers like that again soon!'
The girl skipped away happily and Ea walked on with legs that as if they were glued to the road. What would she find? Would Henna be there or could she have... flown away?
Upon arriving at Henna's place, she knocked softly on the door.
'Mrs. Lightfoot, are you there?' A last blue feather on the doorstep gave her hope. It looked like Henna had made it home.
A bit more firmly she now knocked. 'Mrs. Lightfoot? Henna dear? It's me, Eamila Bolger. We met at the Inn?'
Then she heard it. A not very ladylike snoring sound came from one of the the windows. Ea felt her heart lift and she laughed out loud. Well. If Henna was that fast asleep... she wouldn't be able to wake her up. But perhaps she would be alright. She would check on the older lady later again.
Relieved she walked back to the Inn.
'Henna is fast asleep in her own hobbit home', she said to Dwim and Tara. 'Let's hope she will be fine when she wakes up. Boy. I sure could use a pint now...'

[Marceline]

Tarawen

"I've not had any of this ale," Tara replied when Eamila questioned the brew. "But I wouldn't say no to a pint right about now." She sat down at last, suddenly weary as the adrenaline from the evening's shocking events wore off now that both Toast and Henna had flown away. She stared at her palms, lost in thought. Had it been worth it to avenge the loss of her Warbler, knowing that it had all turned out like this? She shook her head in answer to this question.

Tara looked up gratefully when Eamila offered to walk down to Henna's home and check in on her. "Thank you, that would be such a relief to know if she made it home safely."

She stood and poured herself a mug of ale, as Dwim seemed too dumbfounded to move. She took a tentative first sip and savored the rich flavor. "McBob McFee!" she said. "Please, help my friends and me." Tarawen did register quite yet that this brew had immediately made her speak in rhyme.

Upon Eamila's return with the good news that Henna had made it home and into bed, Tara beamed. "It's so very swell that Mrs. Lightfoot's doing well! Please, pour yourself a mug or two. Let's all partake of this fine brew!"

OOC: So sorry for my delay in turn, @Eamila Bolger ! I know Dwim is away on a bit of a break and Toast is busy with school, so please don't feel in any rush to reply here.

[Eamila Bolger]

With a big, long sigh Eamila sat down.
'I might as well', she said to Tara. 'Don't you think the staff of the Inn would be too angry if we start pouring our own drink in the yard?'
She shrugged. 'I am too exhausted to go in there anyway and I am not sure whether that stink bomb smell has gone yet.' She leaned forward and took the McBob McFee ale in one hand and her mug in the other. Then she started pouring.
The colour was pretty, she thought. Light and yet with a yellow in it that was deeper than she had expected. The foam layer was just as it should be: not to large, not too small. Carefully she put the ale down and lifted her mug to her mouth.
The first sip was a small one. She was surprised by the rich bouquet. Another sip followed, this time bigger. And another...
'This ale tastes well, I must say! Why did I not hear of it before today?' She shut her mouth quickly, as she felt a sudden urge to sing. Giggling she took another sip. 'Does this make you feel different, Tarawen? I feel like singing, I wonder if I can...

[Dwim]

Dwim had been so deep in thought about all of the commotion that he'd forgotten what was going on around him. When Eamila returned from checking on Henna, he snapped out of it and grinned with relief. "That is so great to hear that the old bird is asleep in her bed," he replied, smiling at Tarawen too. "It's about time we got to relax. I'm still a bit worried about Toast too, but there's nothing else that can be done for now. We can go looking for him tomorrow if he doesn't return"

Then he realised how inattentive he'd been. He'd offered his beer out to the others, but then when they'd decided to take him up on the offer, he'd neglected to pour it for them. Well, at least the two of them both knew how to pull a tap for themselves, so there was no harm done.

He took a seat with a deep sigh, then took a large sip of McBob McFee. "How exhausting this afternoon has been. The craziest things I've ever seen." Oops, he'd slipped into rhyme too. He'd built up a bit of a tolerance to that effect over the last couple of months, but he was exhausted enough now that his brain could not fight it this time.

"Perhaps we shouldn't be drinking for free. But this barrel I'll sell for a smaller fee." He looked at Ea and Tara with a smile. "The Green Dragon has agreed to take on my ale, and now they'll always have it for sale!"

"As long as I can keep up with the demand of course..."

[Marceline]

Tarawen

The ranger hummed tunelessly as her companions began to speak, nay, warble! Their rhymes filled her ears with a pleasant music and her eyes with tears of relief. Henna was alright! Toast had taken flight! (Off to who-knows-where, but at the moment, she had not a care.) Oh dear. Now her internal monologue was rhyming. Hmmm.

Tarawen sipped some more McBob McFee from her mug and smiled at Eamila, glad that her new acquaintance had taken the liberty of sampling the brew. She laughed aloud as Dwim began rhyming, too. She thought perhaps they would make a good show for the rest of the patrons in the Dragon.

"Well my friends, shall we head back in? There may be an audience in need of a grin. Perhaps the stink bomb's smelly stench has cleared, even as the hour of closing draws near."

[Eamila Bolger]

Eamila was more than ready to head back in. She lifted her empty cup to both Tarawen and Dwim.
'Sounds like an excellent idea! There will be enough for you and me!'
This really tasted like more. Sitting outside was wonderful, but inside would be even better.

She had a bit of a problem though. The ale she had earlier and this new one, they both seemed to have two effects on her. On one side she felt pleasantly pleased with just about everything in the world right now. On the other hand she had the unpleasant feeling of a rapidly filling bladder. She knew that something embarrassing might happen if she didn't go to the little Hobbits room pretty soon. Ea frowned. If only she wasn't sitting so comfortably here...

When Dwim mentioned the Inn would be selling his ale, she laughed. 'Sounds like the Dragon will have a real hit, once they start selling this from their pit,' she nodded to him. Why on Arda did she feel so lazy? She needed to get up... she didn't want any accidents happen in front of her new friends.
Carefully she loosened her apron a bit, trying to get some pressure off her stomach, but the unpleasant feeling was now becoming a bit painful.

With a sigh Ea placed her hands on the table before her. 'Now if you'd excuse me, both you two, I've got something important to do.' She tried to stand up and walk away with dignity. But after a few steps she had to stop quite abruptly. Sitting had been okay, but now she was walking, the need hit her three times harder than she had expected.
'O dear, I think I have a problem here.' Her face turned beet red. There was no way to do this dignified. She crossed her legs firmly. 'I'll be right back, please accept my excuse, but if I don't run now, this struggle I'll lose...'
As quick as possible with crossed legs, she hurried away to the backside of the Inn, where she knew the outhouse to be.

[Baphởmet]

Ceru, the Spider

She peaked out of a tiny, tiny hole in the wall. It was a busy night tonight. It was loud and rambunctious in here in a way that it had not been in quite some time. Ceru didn’t know if that was good thing or not. The comings and going of “Hobbits” as they called themselves usually didn’t matter to her as they were not her normal food. The only thing she ever had to worry about was getting squished by their massive, hairy feet. She had managed thus far to avoid them in pursuit of her own prey, but it was the constant fear when she peaked her eight eyes out of her little dwelling. She was hungry. She had finished off the last cricket several days ago. She raised her fuzzy pedipalps high in the air, tasting and sensing her surroundings. There was something tasty here, something juicy and succulent. And near. A fly was struggling on the floor, its wings had been damaged in a wild fray from earlier in the evening. Ceru could feel the struggling insect through the floor, the vibrations acting like a beacon. She could feel the venom in her fangs as she inched forward, the anticipation of an easy kill sent a rush through her small, brown body. Did she dare leave her nest though, leave the safety of her web for the dangers of the wooden floor? She was hungry. She would have to risk it. Onward she scuttled, moving as fast as her eight articulated legs would carry her across the vast,yawning gulf.

[Dwim]

Dwim was pleasantly amused by the rhyming effect that the brew was having on his friends. Hearing them in conversation like this reminded him of that fabled day when Bob the Cow himself had blessed the ale. He'd let himself fall into the habit of rhyming again too (after a few drinks, it became easy to do).

Tarawen suggested heading inside. Eamila agreed, although quickly dashed off in the opposite direction. He thought he knew why (if her uncomfortable stance had been anything to go by), but he did not want to assume anything, so he gave her a nod without making eye contact and went to head inside. He turned to Tara before going through the door. "I'm just going to try and find Miss Pearl. What a stressful evening for that young girl." In the midst of all the ruckus he had not thought about the pub staff, but now that they were heading back in, he found himself feeling very much like he needed to apologise for what had happened.

As he stepped inside, he had the sudden worrying thought that the magic cake may not have been taken care of yet. But he was hugely relieved when he saw that it was no longer there in the middle of the pub. He hoped that meant it had been hidden away in the kitchens, and not that it had been finished off by the hobbits. But looking around he noticed no further signs of birdlike behaviour, so it looked like things had mostly returned to normal.

He approached the bar, thinking Pearl may be in the kitchens. "Pearl, is that you back there?" he called out as politely as he could. "I have something that I'd like to declare!" This time he didn't even notice that he was still in rhyme.

[Lailyn]

Zweet the Wren

Tap. Tap, tap, tap. TAP, TAP, TAP.

The wren drummed her beak on the window. She was only a wee bird but she could make a lot of noise when she wanted to. One of those naked, featherless upright walkers inside must have keen enough ears to hear her!

The lights and smells of the feeding ground drew her to this place where so many of the un-feathered often gathered in flocks and went on eating frenzies. It was a nice place to grab a few tasty morsels with little effort. They may not know how to grow feathers or fly, but these folk (what did they call themselves again? hoppips? hoppeeps? hoppits? yes, that was it, hoppits.) knew a thing or two about food.

Tap, tap, tap, she continued until someone let her in...

[Marceline]

Tarawen

Tarawen drained her mug and placed it onto the table before her, smiling as Eamila rhymed about Dwim's new brew. She wondered vaguely where the name McBob McFee had come from. "I hope one day you'll tell the tale of naming your new homebrewed ale," she said casually as they stood and made for the door of the Dragon. With her hand on the door, Tara looked around at her companions and noticed that Eamila suddenly looked quite uncomfortable. The hobbit lass suddenly rushed off toward the outhouse, at which Tarawen could only grin. She knew that feeling all too well, though she supposed her bladder must be a bit larger than the average hobbit's.

Entering the pub once more with Dwim, her brewer pal rushed off to check on Pearl, the lass who'd been helping them prepare for the antics of Toasty. Tarawen slumped back into the booth at which they'd sat earlier. She breathed deeply and recalled that it had been rather hazardous to breathe in here earlier - the stink bomb must have dissipated! Finally. Now, where had Toasty gotten to? Tara sat back to observe the goings-on in the bar. Many of the hobbits were still holding close conversations with each other, though she thought she heard a vague knocking sound coming from somewhere toward the back . . .

Pearl Brockhouse

Pearl peeked around the kitchen doorway. The blue cake was safely ensconced inside a cabinet, where she hoped no one would touch it. It simply wouldn't do for anyone else to go floating off into the night. What was Lily going to say! Her first night on the job, and all this had happened. She thought sadly of the spilled food from earlier and wished that had remained the biggest of her problems! Fortunately, the stink bomb smell seemed to have leaked out of the pub once she'd thrown the windows wide, so at least she had that going for her.

It seemed that the group including Dwim and the ranger had split up, with the bearded-then-not-bearded one and Mrs. Lightfoot having disappeared into the night. Dwim had reappeared, calling her name from the bar. It sounded like he was reciting a verse! How strange. She was just about to emerge and find out what that was all about when she heard a tap. Tap. Tap. TAP. TAP. at the kitchen window. Oh! A wren (Zweet) was perched on the sill, pecking insistently at the glass. She supposed that the bird might be looking for crumbs to eat but wondered what would happen if the little wren ate some of the cake that turned people into flying, feathered creatures. Hmm. Pearl was not one for mischief, but her tweenish curiosity got the better of her. Maybe the bird would become hobbitlike? This seemed to follow on logically from what she'd witnessed earlier. She went to the cabinet and sliced a small piece of the blue cake, being careful not to let the frosting get all over her hands. She left the cake on a plate atop the counter, then cracked open the window. What the bird might do was anyone's guess, but she hurried out to say hello again to Dwim.

"Hello, Mr. Took!" she said, emerging from the kitchen in a rush. "How can I help? How are you and your, um, friends doing?" A scuttling movement caught her eye and, before Dwim could reply, Pearl hopped up onto a nearby chair and shrieked, "SPIDER!!!!"

[Baphởmet]

Ceru, the Spider

All of the sudden, things looked very, very bad for little Ceru. She had only wanted to catch and eat the fly but that was not to be her luck today. No, she had made it halfway, her spindly, sharply jointed legs could only carry her so fast, when she heard that fateful TAPTAPTAPTAP on the window. Her eyes all turned at once, her body moving to face the direction of this new potential threat to see the worst possible thing imaginable: a wren! Oh no! Oh great mother spider protect her! Fear suddenly hit little spider like a wave. What could she do? If that terrifying bird it’s way in here…

Things suddenly went from bad to worse. The worst. The absolute worst! One of the Hobbits went to the window and opened it! Ceru's pedipalps fluttered in terror as she felt the sudden shift in air pressure. There was now naught but a few feet of empty space between Ceru and her death. Quickly, the little spider turned and darted forward. She was too far from her little hole, she’d never make it in time. Instead, the little katipō spider decided it was best to make for the table. She could hid in the space between legs and the table. She was small and nimble perhaps she could…

That avenue was suddenly cut off when a scream erupted. Ceru stopped dead in her tracks to see one of the Hobbits, the very same that had opened the window, jump up into a chair and continue screaming. Ceru knew she was doomed now. Between the arena and the Hobbits, what could she do to escape? With no other presentable options, she raised her front pairs of legs in an aggressive stance and charged forward, moving rapidly closer to the Hobbit and away from the wren, perhaps if she got close enough she could play dead and they would lose interest or simp,y lose her.

[Eamila Bolger]

It had only been a couple of minutes, right?
Eamila wasn't sure what this wonderful ale was doing to her, but in her memory it was only a short time ago that she left for the outhouse. She expected the Inn to be as good as normal. No more blue cake or feathers all around. No more stink bomb. Just... a couple of Hobbits and big folk having a drink together.

She couldn't have been more wrong.

The moment she entered the Inn through the back door, a shrieking sound filled her ears.
SPIDER!!!

Pearl was standing on a chair with an expression of complete panic in her eyes. Dwim was looking at her quite surprised, as if he had just been in a conversation with her and wasn't exactly sure what was happening. Tara was back in the booth where she had been sitting before. At least that part of the scene was normal.

'Miss Pearl?' Ea tried to raise her voice above the shrieking sound. 'Where is that spider now? Shall I catch it for you?'
She wondered how big the creature might be, seeing as it had such an effect on Pearl. 'A pity we Hobbits don't have shoes, or I could smash it for you. I might lend one from Tara here? Or if you have a duster, I could perhaps catch it and bring it outside?'
She walked over to the counter to see if she could find anything useful. At that moment her eye fell on a small plate. A plate with a lovely, delicious
slice of cake on it. It looked to good to just lay there... No, wait. Was that... the blue cake again? It couldn't be, right? No-one would be that cruel?

[Dwim]

Dwim sipped the last of his beer until Pearl emerged from the kitchen. "Oh no," he mouthed as she came out holding a slice of that blue cake. Surely she wasn't about to try some for herself? He thought he'd seen the last of that cake. And so he was hugely relieved when she put the plate down on the counter and turned away from it. But why had some of the cake reappeared now? He'd been so glad to find out that it had been hidden away. Oh well, he was sure the lass had her reasons.

Tap tap TAP. Dwim heard the noise in the background, but put no thought yet to what was causing it. The pub was usually full of interesting noises. "Hi there, Pearl..." he replied when she greeted him. He was then about to apologise for his part in all of the mayhem (he had after all been the one who'd arranged the fateful meeting here today). But his chance was gone in a flash when all of a sudden she was up on a chair and shrieking "SPIDER!!!!"

Dwim snapped his neck around. "Where!" he cried out with concern. He looked down at his shoulders and brushed the back of his hair wildly. Not on him, surely! But then he saw where Pearl was looking, and sure enough there it was (Ceru) scuttling out and about in the open. Eamila had returned just in time and was quickly offering to deal with the problem. But things were all happening very quickly tonight, and in a moment she was distracted, for she had come across the slice of cake.

Perhaps it was down to him to deal with the situatuion then. He'd missed his chance to apologise to Pearl, but maybe he could make things up to her in a different way. By rescuing the pub from the spider threat. It was only a little spider anyway, he tried to convince himself. Sure, he could quickly shoo the spider outside. Or better yet, smash it and squish it quickly. No, he couldn't squish it. He'd done that before in front of ladies and gotten in an awful lot of trouble. It seemed like most girls didn't like spider guts being squished all over the floor, and it was usually in watching that moment of violence that they would feel a small amount of sympathy for the creature.

He realised the best course of action, as much as the thought frightened him, was to try and catch the spider (Ceru). His tankard was now empty, so he decided to utilise it. Just as he began to move towards the arachnid, it charged towards Pearl. "Yikes!" Dwim called out as he leapt to action and charged towards the charging spider. He managed to get in between it and Pearl, then jumped towards it and tried to land his empty mug over the top of it, so as to contain the creepy thing inside. But in his panic his aim was slightly off, and instead he only managed to smack his mug into the ground causing it to bounce up and away, leaving his own hand vulnerable and exposed, right in front of the spider's upraised front legs.

[Lailyn]

Zweet the Wren
“Tewee-tewee-peep-chirr-peep-cheep-zweeeeet!” The wren exclaimed in excitement when the hoppit (Pearl) let her into the feeding ground. Zweet fluttered about Pearl’s head to express her appreciation. Hoppits were such strange creatures, wrapping themselves in the fur of other animals because they couldn’t grow their own feathers but Zweet was glad this one had let her in.

And left out unattended food. What was it? The wren didn’t know what the cake was but it smelled edible and sweet. Sweeter than her usual fare of crickets, caterpillars and seeds. So she stuck her little beak into it and began to nibble away first at the sticky substance on top and then into the fluffy inners. Yes, much tastier than even the finest caterpillar.

But the more the bird ate, the hungrier she felt...how odd! (Hobbit-ifying effects of the cake?) Maybe there’d be more filling treats where all the hoppits flocked together. She fluttered along and landed on a table. There was still blue frosting smeared on her beak. Spotting a pond of murky golden-brown liquid, she suddenly felt compelled to drink whatever it was. When none of the hoppits were looking, she dunked her beak into the foamy liquid (and added some ale-foam to her blue-frosted beak).

The slightest movement beneath the table caught her eye (Ceru). PREY! Out there right in the open! The scrumptious-looking spider would be the perfect meal for her nestlings! Her hunting instincts took over and she fluttered down to the ground in pursuit. The spider would not get away from her.

But something (possibly the ale) addled her senses and instead of diving straight for the spider with a fatal strike of her beak, she dove head-first into a holder of foamy liquid (Dwim's mug) instead. Zweet fell over, feeling quite dazed.

[Eamila Bolger]

Before Eamila could grab the cake and throw it away for good - or eat it, she wasn't sure yet which to choose, a big black bird flew close over her head and landed on the plate. Ea shrieked and covered her hair with her hands, stepping back as quickly as she could.
'Bad bird! Why are you in here?'
The wren didn't seem to be in an obedient mood and started eating the blue cake. In a few bites the last bit was gone and the bird went on to have a drink.

On a normal day she would have asked the inn-keeper what kind of business this was, where the birds were eating and drinking from the table. But this hadn't been a normal day so far and the inn-keeper was still standing on a chair.
O dear. The spider. She had forgotten about it because of that cake. Just when she looked back at the place where Pearl seemed to think it was, Dwim came in to be the gallant knight helping out the lady in distress. Ea grinned and decided to watch. And that was worth it. Dwim made a dive that was prettier than the one she had seen Daisy Longbottom do when she tried to catch the bridal bouquet of her sister Lilac, two weeks ago. Ea raised her hands to cheer for the victorious hero. But then Dwims tankard bounced away and he fell nose down on the floor with his hand and face closer to the spider than he probably liked.

Only seconds later Zweet joined him, shoving it's head right into the tankard.

Ea looked at the spider, Dwim and the wren and made a decision. As quick as she could she took an empty jar from the bar and rushed back. Hopefully she wasn't to late yet. Spiders weren't so bad usually, but she had heard of ones that bit. Kneeling down next to Pearls chair she carefully placed the jar above the spider. No sudden movements now. She held her breath as she slowly lowered the jar. When she was almost there, she swallowed and closed her eyes.
With a soft 'plop' the jar landed on the floor. She opened her eyes again and breathed out.
'Got it!', she said with a smile. 'You may step of that chair now, and if you have a piece of paper I can bring this beauty outside.
She wanted to stand up and help Pearl down the chair, but then she looked again. What was that? Why didn't she see the spider in the jar?

[Marceline]

Pearl Brockhouse

A lot of things happened in very quick succession after Pearl hopped up onto the chair. First, the scuttling spider (Ceru) paused and raised its front legs as if inviting a battle. Pearl hopped from foot to foot with nerves as it did so. Please, please, please don't climb up onto my chair! she thought desperately. If there was one thing she could not abide, it was creepy crawly creatures!

Eamila then had the brilliant idea to squash it, but before the lass could ask the tall ranger to borrow a shoe, Dwim dove toward the spider, empty tankard in his outstretched hand, in an attempt to capture it. At the same time, the bird Pearl had seen tapping at the window reappeared, blue frosting smeared over its beak, and dove with twitters of delight to try and catch the spider for itself. Everyone wanted to catch that spider! Even Eamila had returned with a jar with which to trap the eight-legged fiend.

"Oh, oh, oh!" Pearl squeaked anxiously as Dwim landed on the floor and the spider somehow evaded all attempts to capture it. "Please be careful, everyone! We can't have nearly all our guests injured here tonight!" She looked around nervously to see if Lily was still on hand. Perhaps her old friend and new employer would know from experience how to deal with these spiders.

Tarawen

Tarawen had been feeling sleepy - no doubt an unintended side effect of McBob McFee - and her eyelids had just drooped shut when she heard a cry. "SPIDER!!!!" Tara's eyes shot open, and she swung her head back and forth to find the source of the shout. Young Pearl was standing on a chair, looking antsy and alarmed. Tarawen stood and strode over to the group of hobbits (and the bird? When had a bird appeared in the pub?), in the middle of which lay Dwim, who appeared to have cast himself valiantly between Pearl and the spider.

"What in the world?" she asked Eamila. "It's just a spider!"

[Baphởmet]

Ceru, the Katipō

Things were looking dire for Ceru. She was charging the screaming Hobbit but only because the noise so confused her. The articulated hairs on her tiny legs quivered uncontrollably. She was disoriented with all the sound. The little katipō had no idea where to go. She’d gotten lost in her panic and no longer knew where her little web was. Then something else happened. Another Hobbit (Dwim) loomed massive and terrifying in front of her, most likely trying to defend the one that was screaming. Ceru had observed this behavior several times throughout her lifetime. She never understood what it meant or what it was supposed to accomplish but now that she was face to face with it, she understood. It was a protective gesture. While she had no idea why a female needed protecting, especially from a male, the tiny spider knew that she needed to get out of there, even if she ran off in the opposite direction of her home. She cursed her forgetfulness. She hadn’t spun a strand that linked her back to her web, thinking the trip to the fly would be quick.

In the midst of her thoughts she missed the ceramic mug careening down toward her. She was trapped! She couldn’t move. She was frozen to the spot as the great shadow of death loomed over her. She closed all her eyes in anticipation of the end. But then… it didn’t come. The shadow continued on over her. The mug must have slipped from the Hobbit’s hand. It crashed to the floor behind her. She could feel the vibrations through the floor.

In the confusion, Ceru leapt up on the Hobbit’s hand, hoping to be able to crawl around on his outer garments (Hobbits were very particular about not being touched on their skin by spiders or bugs) and hide in plain sight while the commotion died down. She could escape later, of course. She would have to abandon her old home though. She was so disoriented now that she would never be able to find it again.

The Hobbit’s hand shifted or twitched, and instinct took over. Despite her innate reluctance to bite in self-defense or something that was not food, she did. She bit down on the Hobbit’s soft, fleshy hand. She could feel the venom course through the chelicerae and into the poor Hobbit’s hand. She released her fangs quickly and scuttled as fast as eight legs would carry her.

A third Hobbit then appeared (Ea). Where was the bird, Ceru suddenly realized. The wren that had started this whole fiasco had disap –

It was right beside her! Ceru leapt back, front legs raised in an aggressive posture once more, her fangs exposed. But the bird didn’t seem to be moving. Was it asleep? In the commotion she must have missed something happened to the bird, but it was unmoving now. Ceru would count her blessings later. She had to get out of here before a…

A jar whirled over and nearly slammed down on top of the kapitō. The fastest of reflexes saved her from being trapped on the wrong side of the glass. She scurried up to the top, only be stare directly into the face of this new Hobbit.

[Eamila Bolger]

It was suddenly quite silent in the Inn. Eamila sat on her knees and stared at the spider, who was only centimeters away from her nose. 'Easy now... easy...' she whispered. 'Don't be afraid... I won't hurt you.'
It sounded almost as if she was singing. 'You will be alright. I will bring you to a safe place. Just sit very, very still now.'
In the background she heard Tarawen's question. ''Not just a spider!', she said with a low voice. 'It's a kapitō and they are nasty creatures. I mean: they are quite harmless but they can bite, if they feel like they are in danger. And this poor little one here must be quite scared right now...'
Very, very carefully Ea stood up. She took the jar that was still upside down.
'I won't hurt you and I won't kill you. I will just walk out with you and let you go, alright?'
Her mouth felt dry but she didn't dare licking her lips or swallowing. What if the spider thought she was going to eat it? Her upper lip was getting wet from the sweat as she continued walking to the door of the Inn. Five more steps. Three, one... there she was. Still very carefully she bended down and placed the jar on the ground. The spider was still there. Good. Ea pushed the jar to the side of the path a bit, near some bushes and hoped Ceru would climb of. She didn't wait for it, but went back inside.
'There now', she said with a sigh of relief. 'I'll come back for that jar later. Come on Pearl, you can get of that chair now! Please bring me something to drink, I could use it after all this. What about you, Dwim? Dwim?! Are you alright?'
Suddenly she felt more anxious than she had been with that spider so near. Dwim looked horrible. What had happened?
'It didn't bite you, did it? Dwim??????'

[Dwim]

"Ouch!" yelped Dwim as the spider (Ceru) found its way onto his hand and bit him. "Accursed thing!"

He shook his hand in panic to fling the spider away. Now he'd done it. He was sure he'd never been bit by a spider before, let alone one as nasty looking as this. She was small, but he did not know if she was poisonous or not. Tarawen strode in and firmly reminded everyone that it was just a spider. She was right. There was no need for panic. He tried to put the thought of poison aside. Sure, the bite stung like hell, but the pain would go away soon, surely.

Eamila was carrying out some heroics of her own, albeit a bit more skilfully. Apparently she had the spider caught on the jar, and he was glad when she brought it outside. When she returned, she was very concerned about him being bit. "Yes, the blasted creature got me," he informed her as he looked down at his hand. The tiny little wound where he'd been pricked was already red.

"It's okay, Pearl," he said reassuringly after Ea told her to get off the chair and fetch a drink. "Yes, I need one too," he agreed. "Have we got any spirits here? I need something strong to calm my nerves and forget this bite."

A good drink would settle him down. The pain from the bite will go soon, he reassured himself. No harm done. Save for that poor dazed bird (Zweet) on the ground there.

No harm done. If only that were true...

[Lailyn]

Zweet the Wren
Everything was warm and dark. It was a little like being in her momma-bird's nest back when she was a wee hatchling. Oh, those were the days hunkered down in the nest, getting tasty food delivered to you and being tucked under a blanket of warm, fuzzy feathers with her brothers and sisters.

The wren was lost in this place of warm happiness until she opened her eyes. Blinked, startled. Her vision blurred and everything swam around her in circles when she tried to stand up on feeble legs. She took one step and stumbled. Took another and tried to flap her wings for balance.

When she could finally see again, she saw she was not tucked up in a nest but was inside... a tree? With some strange creatures. Oh. The hoppits. The spider! Her memory resurfaced at last. Zweet dashed forward in search of the spider but was unable to walk in a straight line and kept circling in the same direction and was wholly unable to chase the spider who seemed to have escaped somehow.

“Te-hic-wee-peep-chrrrr-hic-zweet?” she sang in faltering tones. The little wren was really not feeling well. She fell forward on the floor and buried her beak in her feathers in shuddering fear. Blue cake, ale and a head injury seemed to be too much for the little bird.

[Baphởmet]

Ceru, the Katipō

For a very long moment, Ceru did not know what to do. She was carried away by the Hobbit and deposited on the grass outside. The ground was soft and spongy, even with her small size, the little katipō spider could feel the softness beneath her feet. Against her better judgement (which told her to run, run, run as fast as she could) she stayed right where the Hobbit had left her, watching the events unfold as well as she could. Her pedipalps flickered back and forth, helping her make sense of what was going on around her. She felt very bad about having bit that other Hobbit. In truth, she had not wanted to do it, had reacted on pure instinct and did what she thought she had to do in that moment. She had not injected much venom into the bite, though it was unlikely he would see it that way. She normally only used that venom to subdue and devour her food. Her ability to scurry away quickly and hide was her best defense mechanism.

She hesitated with the bird stirred. She felt the movement in the tiny, almost microscopic articulated hairs that ran along her legs. It was time to move. If the wren was awake, it would be on the hunt again. Ceru prayed to the dark mother of spiders that the bird would find a grasshopper or a nice fat bumble bee to devour instead.

She turned and skittered into the underbrush. She saw massive tree looming nearby whose roots would be a perfect place for her to hide and spin her webs, a new home.

[Eamila Bolger]

Pearl still seemed to be a bit shaky from the shock, so Eamila thought she'd see if she could pour them all something strong.
'Why don't you sit down next to Dwim and Tarawen for a while?', she said to Pearl. 'I'll see if I can find a bottle of rum somewhere and then I'll make those who like it a cup of hot chamomile tea with rum.'
Ea hurried towards the kitchen and put the kettle on. 'I'll be right back!', she shouted. 'And perhaps I'll see if there's some apple pie as well, my treat!'

The kitchen was tidy as she had expected. The fire in the stove was hot enough to have the kettle singing within minutes. From a cabinet she took four nice mugs that had the name of the Inn painted on them. Were the owners afraid that visitors would take them home secretly. Wait a minute... hadn't she seen a mug just like that at her neighbor's place one day?. Ea shrugged.
Ah, there was the bottle of rum, right next to something that looked like gin and a warm red port. She decided that it was always good to know what you gave your customers, so she she took a little sip from all three bottles. The rum warmed her throat all the way trough and went straight to her stomach.
'Perfect for the tea.'
Soon she walked back with a tray full of apple pie, cream, rum, mugs and a fancy looking tea pot with green dragons painted on it's side. 'Isn't this thing fantastic?', she chuckled. 'Where on earth did you get it, Pearl?' She pointed at the steam that came out of the dragon's nose, which was also the spout. 'Just let me know who wants the tea and who wants the rum or a combination of both.'

After putting everything on the table, she stepped backwards. But as she did that, she felt something soft against her legs, just under her skirt.
'Whaaaa! What's that!' The yelling was loud enough to get everyone's attention. Ea blushed.
The wren! She only just missed it!
'Kssshhh... get lost you, stupid bird!', she yelled at it, angry for having over-reacted. But something was not right. Ea had a better look at the bird.
That wren looked just like her uncle Will after he had spent the night at this very same Inn, with his best friend Bob. It's a miracle they still find their way home at night, her mother always said. One day they will end up in the Grey Havens and wake up in some boat on the great sea, those two.

'I guess this poor animal had a bit too much of your ale, Dwim', Ea laughed. 'Sorry 'bout the yelling, little one. I had no idea you were in a state like this. Come on, I'll help you out.' Carefully she picked it up and brought it to the window.
'Here, breath some fresh air! And when you want to, you can have a bit of my pie. But you look like you better rest a bit first...'

With a sigh she finally sat down. After putting a large amount of whipped cream on her apple pie, she started eating.
'This is good! Where did you get it, Pearl? From the Market?'
She had expected Dwim to start eating right away too. But Dwim was silent. And there was something about his face. Ea wasn't sure of it, but... was he looking paler than before?
'Dwim, are you sure you will be alright? You don't look so well...'

[Dwim]

"I'm... I'm ok," Dwim replied to Ea's concern. He nodded his head attempting to look confident about it. In actuality, his hand was burning, he was beginning to get the sweats, and he felt a bit lightheaded. "At least, I will be after a drink of this." He grabbed the bottle of rum and poured some into his own mug. Perhaps a little more than one would expect. "Thank you for gathering all this," he said with a small smile, admiring the assorted treats that she'd brought to the table, including tea and apple pie.

He took a good sized sip of the rum, then poured some of the tea over the rest of the rum in his mug. "Aahh," he sighed. "This'll set things right..."

He sipped the tea and watched Ea helping that pour creature (Zweet) who looked in a worse state than he did. "I think you're right, perhaps a bit too much of my ale. I can't be sure, but I think I heard the bird singing in rhyme before."

As he continued to watch the bird getting tended to, Dwim sunk back into his seat then looked at his dear friend Tarawen. "I don't feel so good..." he said to her slowly and quietly. Either the rum was going to his head very quickly, or he was about to faint from that spider toxin.

[Lailyn]

Zweet the Wren
Zweet peeked out from behind her feathered wings and saw the feeding ground whirl around her as she was lifted up into the paws of a hoppit (Ea). Then she was deposited back where she began this adventure. It was dark and cold and lonely out there and it was drafty by the window. She sat there cuddled up until the draft chilled her to her hollow bones.

The little wren took a step toward the edge of the windowsill and teetered there for a precarious moment. “Peep-peep-chireeep?” she called as she held out her wings and took the great leap...and....flapped her wings, once...twice...teetered on the third flap…!

And then climbed into the air!

Ahhh, Zweet could fly again after some much-needed rest but her flight path was rather more zig-zagged than usual. (Most likely it was an effect of the ale but avian intake of fermented beverages has not been well-studied.) She flitted among the hoppits flocked together in search of a warm, cozy spot. And possibly a few morsels of food...she still felt very hungry, almost ravenous. (But those were big, mean birds that spread nasty rumours!)

This hoppit’s head was too round on top and another was wearing a strange upside-down straw nest on top of its head (what odd creatures!). No, no, no, that hoppit head was very naked indeed and had almost no padding at all on top except a thin wisp of fur! Why didn’t these hoppits just grow feathers on their heads?! They’d make much cozier perches for little birds like her that way.

The bird bounced around landing on a series of curly-haired heads in search of the most perfect perch...

(OOC: feel free to provide a head perch or be a sad, rejected hobbit head)

[Baphởmet]

Fezziwig Willowfoot

What a time to be alive! Fezzy bounced his way to down the street, grandchildren giggling and laughing as they followed as far the front gate. They were all singing, and all singing different songs. It was an awful mishmash of badly out of tune voices that had yet to grow into their own and Fezzy loved every single screech and every single off key note. “Go night little ones! Good night! I’ll be back around for elevensies!” The hobbit children, all five of them, cheered uproariously. He grinned ear to ear. “Bye Grampa!” “See you tomorrow!” “You can sit next to me if you want!”

He blew them all a final kiss goodnight and waved to his daughter and her husband who stood in the doorway, pipes in hand for an evening smoke. “Goodnight Ophelia, goodnight Marteen!”

He was off again, bounding down the path. Whatever it was that possessed young children to have such a rapacious amount of energy had infected him after spending the entire evening with his grandchildren. He was visiting from Honeypuddle and had planned on only staying a few days, but after such a fun night with his family, how could he not stay longer? Something to bring up at elevensies, and if he threw in a good barrel of Green Dragon Ale he was sure he’d be welcomed as long as the children could stand him. They’d played tag all afternoon, even missed afternoon tea because they were so busy playing. Playing was serious work when you were a child and it had to take precedence over other things like eating or naptime. There was simply no way around it. So little Jasmine had told him at least and who was Fezzy to argue?

He sighed with great contentedness. He had put off this trip for far too long. He was afraid that it was going to bring up too many sad memories of his late wife Bedelia. There were a few sad memories here and there that pull at the heartstrings, but those were few. There were far more wonderful memories waiting around the corner and new memories to create besides! He laughed and his stomach gurgled. It was almost time for a meal again, and some thick brown ale to wash it down, something sweet with ginger and other baking spice notes, something molassey and a good mouthfeel! If the Green Dragon was still as legendary as it was when he was a tween then he was very certain he’d find that exact beer!

The place looked alive and abuzz with activity when he arrived. Something must have just happened. Oh drat! He’d missed it. He entered and sat down at an empty table and immediately noticed… was that a… yes! Yes it was! He laughed and watched the little wren hop from one hobbit to the next, seemingly unsatisfied with each cranial perch. He rubbed his balding head, knowing he’d not be too much better than any of them but he patted the table, trying to call the bird’s attention nonetheless. It was an evening for making new friends.

And speaking of new friends, Fezzy was famished! “Sausage and taters sound lovely,” he mused dreamily, “along with that wonderful winter warmer.”

[Marceline]

Pearl Brockhouse

Still standing atop a chair, Pearl took in the scene:

Tarawen brushed off legitimate concerns about a (probably) venomous spider (trust a Ranger to worry so little about scary critters...). Eamila took said spider outside, easing the tension in the room considerably, then went into the kitchens to prepare a pick-me-up for the startled hobbits. Dwim shook off a bite from the spider. The little bird (Zweet) she’d let in earlier swooned on the ground but was rescued by lovely Eamila and brought to the windowsill.

What a night! Pearl would have to write this all down to remember it. It would make a fine tale for hobbit children one day. They would never believe all the things that had happened in the ordinary Green Dragon!

She hopped down from the chair at Ea’s bidding and joined the little group at a table for refreshment. “I’m sorry about that,” she said to Eamila, “I think I was just too stunned to move for a while! We’ve never had a night like this at the Dragon, I can tell you that much.” She took a bite of pie and chewed thoughtfully as Eamila asked about first the teapot and then the whipped cream and pie. “You know, this is all Lily’s good work!” she said, referring to her friend who’d hired her that very evening. “I’m sure she could teach us a thing or two about running a pub.” Strangely, Lily had been nowhere to be found for quite a while this evening. A curious night just became curiouser!

Before Pearl could mentally wander down the lane after Lily and speculate about where she’d gone, Dwim swooned as suddenly as the little bird had earlier. “Oh no!” Pearl shouted, wringing her hands. If things continued like this and Lily returned, she wasn't sure she’d have a job in the morning... Right! She had a job to do!

She let Tarawen and the others see to Dwim, for a new customer (Fezzy) had just bounded jovially into their midst. Pearl slid off her chair and went to see to him. “Good evening, sir!” she said with a smile. “Did I hear correctly that you were looking for some sausage and taters? If so, I’d be glad to bring some out for you!”

Tarawen

For a people who so disliked disruptions and disturbances, these hobbits were baking quite a lot of them into one evening. Tarawen watched, bemused, the same scene which Pearl had observed and been a part of. She was still sleepy and was about to make her apologies and head on out for the evening when Dwim turned to her and said, “I don’t feel so good…”

“Dwim!” Tara cried, watching as he slumped back in his chair. “Oh, for fred’s sake,” she muttered. At least the side effects of McBoB McFee (specifically, of speaking in rhyme) seemed to have worn off. She had not envisioned her friend suffering this kind of injury when she proposed confronting the Toasty One at the pub tonight. “Please, please don’t faint!” she said, waving her hands energetically in front of his face to maintain his attention. “We’ve got to keep you conscious and get you some medical attention right away.” She looked around and asked the room at large, “Where are your healers? He’ll need to see one of them as soon as he can.”

In her worry over Dwim, Tara did not notice the bird now fluttering above them and making its way for her head…

[Lailyn]

Zweet the Wren
Zweet landed upon Tarawen’s head. Here was a very lush nest of dark fur just waiting to be cozied up in! And it was much taller than most of the other perches around the feeding ground. That made it all the better for it was more like a nice tree than all the hoppit heads which were only as tall as bushes and shrubs.

“Tewee-tewee-peep-peep-peep!” she sang out in pure joy.

The wren nestled herself into the fur. Ohh it was so very soft she might want to clip a few strands to twirl into her nest! This unfeathered one should teach the others how to properly preen and look after their fur. These hoppits had so much to learn unlike a very wise little wren who was an expert preen-er.

This perch on Tarawen’s head garnered her a wide view of the entire feeding ground. Feeding ground, feeding, feeding, FOOD! Zweet needed food not a perch!

A hoppit with very little fur on top of his head (not a prime perch at all) was waving his naked little appendages at her that looked rather a lot like worms. Mmmm worms. Worms were a delectable treat full of gooey goodness.

Zweet took off and landed on the table in front of Fezzy. She flicked up her tail-feathers and waggled it back and forth in a little dance. “Tewee-chirp-chirp-zweeeet!” If she could distract him with her dancing and singing, she might be able to nab one of those fat worms...

[Marceline]

Tarawen

Before anyone replied to her queries, there was a rustling and a sudden light pressure atop Tarawen’s head. And then there came the bird noises.

“What in the world?” Tara exclaimed. She had almost forgotten that there was a bird (Zweet) in their midst - and not just any bird. This was a cake-addled, spider-chasing, head-bonking little bird. The poor thing! No wonder it had settled in on a human head with no inhibitions or hesitation. Tarawen laughed. In all her travels, she’d only once been still enough for a bird to dare landing on her: she had been asleep, and a pigeon had had the audacity to wander up and begin pecking at her mouth and nose. This was, all things considered, more pleasant for Tara. Still, she worried for the bird.

Its song of “Tewee-tewee-peep-peep-peep!” sounded rather contented, though, so the ranger shrugged and leaned back in her seat. The silly little bird could stay as long as it liked. If Tarawen wound up with a head full of bird shire, well, she’d seen and experienced worse. And it would be a fitting way to cap off this particular evening, too. Before it could relieve itself in her hair, though, the bird fluttered off to bother a gentlehobbit (Fezziwig) who’d just entered the pub. “Ah, well,” Tarawen sighed. “At least she still has enough of her wits about her to fly!”

[Pip Took]

"Ah, there she is," Pip thought to himself as he approached The Green Dragon Inn. It was certainly a sight for sore eyes, or more accurately sore feet. As of late Pip had been wandering far from The Shire. He had finally come of age by Hobbit standards and the Tookish restlessness had taken hold of his spirit as he entered into a new phase of life. Tookbank had been a happy home but there were hills to climb, trees to talk to, brooks to sit by and cool one's furry feet. His journey had taken him all the way past Sarn Ford and within view of the southern ridge of the Blue Mountains. It had been a marvelous few months alone out in the quiet wild. But though a Took may often need to chase an elusive horizon, Pip was still a hobbit and the craving for comfort crept back powerful and strong. So he returned north to The Shire on the western front near Michel Delving. Before turning south again to his home town it struck Pip as a good idea to visit Hobbiton and Bywater for a bit to see if there was any news, any gossip, any comings and goings that may be of interest. And there was no better place than the famous Green Dragon Inn.

Before opening the faded green door Pip haphazardly brushed away some of the dirt he had accumulated in his travels. Inside it was quieter than he expected. "Aye but much of the world seems quiet these days. Hobbits no longer leaving their holes, less trust of the Big Folk too. Tis a pity. The world ought to widen not shrink." But on further glance it was clear there were traces of excitement. In fact the floor seemed to be covered in wren feathers!

Pip found himself a spot at a large banquet table. The pots and pans in his heavy pack clanked and clunked as they hit the ground. With the weight off his shoulders, Pip's appetite came into sharp relief. He rubbed his stomach as he contemplated what he should eat. "Something with potatoes and mushrooms. That's for sure. And a big mug of ale..."