Red Rose

Somewhere a door slammed, and Baldorill was abruptly awoken from his slumber. It took him a
few seconds to remember where he was, as often was the case before being fully awake. Slowly
rising to a sitting position, he looked around and recognized the warm and cosy surroundings of
the Guildhall of the Red Rose. He casually shook his head to fully wake up, then got up and dressed
himself, before steering his steps towards the front door of the structure.

As he made it there, he understood that this must have been the door that woke him – it still
wasn’t completely shut, rather it opened and closed according to the wind that blew by outside.
For a moment he lost himself in dizzy thoughts about the wind playing the guildhall like an enormously
oversized instrument, and then decided that he clearly needed some fresh air to clear his head properly.
Quickly crossing the last few strides to the door, he then opened up towards the peaceful town of
Fibula that he had come to love so much.

Looking across the central square he could see the Timur up and about, tending to some sign outside
his well known shop. Baldorill smiled to himself, ever astounded by the energy and passion this man
showed in his choice of business. When it came to distance weapons, he knew no better expert, possibly
with the exception of Elane in the close-by city of Thais.

Letting his gaze wander on, he found no more of particular interest from his current position and therefor
started a slow stroll out into the square. He had not gotten far before a young adventurer emerged
from the well, sweaty and short of breath. “Ahoi there!”, he yelled, which resulted in the youngster slipping
by surprise and falling yet back into the well. A few seconds passed, but then the youngsters head re-appeared
into view. “H-hi there” he answered tentatively, glaring suspiciously at the ice elf and not sure of how to
handle the unexpected situation. “Been down in the Mercenarys’ dungeon, have you?” Baldorill stated more
than asked, and then went on: “Tell me, are you by any chance travelling to Thais from here?” An idea of how
to make this day something special had just sprung into his mind.

Still looking suspicious, the young man finally seemed to have deemed the stranger worthy of an answer,
and graciously offered him a single word: “Yes.” Baldorill found himself focusing all his energies on not rolling
his eyes at this answer, and instead he went on: “Brilliant! Then you could bring a message from me to tell
Frodo and preferably also pin up on scrolls in town.” Not waiting for any responses any more, he instead
went on with his proposal. “I’d like you to tell anyone who call Baldorill their friend, or who’d like to get to
know him better, or who’d simply enjoy a nice get-together this gray day to steer their steps southwards.
Tell them that we’ll meet south of Fibula, where Simon resides. Thank you, and have a safe trip!”

Nodding to the well-dweller as a goodbye, the ice elf then turned and continued through the southern gates
of the village, following the path out until he came across the beggar named Simon. There was so much more
to this man, he knew, than people generally thought of him. People tended to judge everyone they met simply
by the first impression, by their sheer appearance. Through his many years wandering both wilderness and
civilizations, Baldorill had learned that not only were these presumptions often wrong – they also caused one
to miss out on uncountable opportunities of unexpected and enrichening encounters.

Simon, he knew, was one of the enrichening encounters that many missed out on all too often. As he approached
the ruggedly clad man, they nodded to each other in a silent greeting, and Simon offered his friend a place by his
campfire. The ice elf thanked him, and they sat down to share some food and drinks that Baldorill had brought with
him in a backpack. Many evenings and nights they had spent there, peacefully chatting and watching the sea change
with the hours only meters away from them. It was a secluded and blessed spot, they both thought, not often disturbed
by the adventurers that almost all of them chose to travel down the village well some distance north of them instead.

Clad in heavy robes and with a goblet of wine in his hand, Baldorill leaned back and let the salty sea air blow his long,
snow white hair from his face, revealing the tips of his pointy ears through the tangle. He closed his eyes and listened
to the sounds of the ocean, wondering whether anyone would heed his invitation and join them by the campfire this day.
He crossed his legs and took a deep beath. It was no rush – he had all the time in the world…

OoC: Feel free to join in the story - anyone is welcome! No matter if you are not used to this kind of "forum join-ins" or
whatever. I'm sure you'll find it's both a nice way to interact, as well as a good opportunity to get to know your own
character better. Yours,

... that afternoon I was sitting alone on Frodo's bar... Frodo was in a good mood this afternoon, and he kept talking to me while he performed his duties in the bar, cleaning the tables in the other side of the bar, sorting the chairs, and of course, while he kept filling my cup of red wine.
Suddenly an exhalted person entered the tavern in a big rush... Both of us turned our eyes on this person, thinking that this must be just another kid in troubles seeking for a place to hide, like most of the people that enters the bar nowadays. The kid had a sweated face, eyes wide open like he was constantly scared, and his breath was a bit accelerated. Frodo pronounced his typical welcome greetings, but the kid replied very fast, without letting Frodo finish:

"Baldorill awaits south of Fibula... Help him!..." and before we could even reply to him, we saw the kid run away very fast, closing the door very hard making a big noise.

We both were on a state of surprise and fear, and thinking that our friend could be in danger, we both ran out of the bar and started heading to Fibula as fast as we could.
We ran for a long time, and when we reached Fibula, we were almost out of breath. Quickly we went to the south-exit of the town, and reached the place where Simon was. We saw Baldorill laying on the ground with his eyes closed.
We quickly jumped on him and started moving him really fast.

"Balder!! Balduin!! - We yelled horrorized, thinking the worst about our great friend.

We were kind of scared and worried, but at one of my glances to Simon I saw him even more horrorized than Frodo or me, contemplating this scene, about to stand up from the grass and run away in horror.

Baldorill eventually opened his eyes, and confused, half-a-sleep he pronounced:

- What the... What is happening? And why everyone is sweaty and crazy today?!

Frodo and I were really confused now,

- Are you alright Balduin? - Frodo and I said like a choir, on a still worried tone.

Oh yes, I was having such a fine sleep, I was even dreaming with some beauty elf queens, that had infinite cherries of which they gave me to eat!

Uff... - Was the sound that came out of me with satisfaction of seeing that everything was allright.

I heard Frodo cursing to that kid that came on his bar in a low voice, and then he told us he was glad that everything was alright and that he was returning to his tavern in Thais.

- Take a seat! Was Baldorill's invitation towards me.

I still was a bit surprised and as I sat down next to my friend, Simon pronounced:

Oh man, that was just a heavy trip... You scared the hell out of me! I was already thinking that this elf had added some herbs from Ab'Dendriel on this Fibulan wine!

We three laughed, and somehow, I heard how the wind carried away the sound of our expressions, and how in the distance, they were getting mixed and mixed, until becoming a single sound.



OoC: Great story & idea Balder, I was laughing a lot in the part you see the guy getting out of the well... Haha, great description of the scene!

A hobbit would say he was a huge man, a human would call him shorty, but no matter the race no one could say he was thin. Jumping over his head was much easier task then passing him aside. Green small eyes, white beard covering his triple size chin and disproportionally short legs to his corps.Every day he was dressed the same - dark brown coat, old shoes which one day used to be shiny leather, thin hood and thick black belt with noticeable gold buckle.
He was spending days in the main road crossing of Thais watching all the people running in rush. He never talked with them, never answered any question when asked. One day he even heard from Frodo's bar gossipers that the 'fatty' is deaf and lost his tongue during one of the orc raids.
This Monday, or was it Tuesday, started like all other days. The street noise, the sweat smell of the Thaian people and hanged over Frodo's customers trying to find way home just before the sunrise. No one disturb him so he had the feeling he loved - invisibility! Oh yes! He would trade all his plans and sketches of the incredible war machines, even the one he passed to Thalpion one day so his master could finally put life into the Colossus, he would trade all including his soul to get the invisible cape made once for Dharalion. He would even survive the elvish smell of this incredible piece of clothing.

When the sun was still showing east, a little boy bumped his belly. It looked like Grinch Clan goblin hitting the golem - incredible speed stopped by slow, stone-like body. The kid got dizzy, nearly passed out, but continued his race to Frodo's door. He spent inside no more then 3 seconds, maybe because Frodo kicked him out, maybe because the water pipe smoke combined with beer smell made him leave instantly. Boy made a turn, few steps more and felt down in front of the fat man. The old dwarf looked around and when he was sure that there is no person watching him, mumbled a word or two and put the blood like liquid into young mouth. Few seconds later he was sitting as before, with only one difference - the boy was hiding behind his back.
Some people run out of Frodos, even the owner himself with the speed of a hawk headed to west. Noone ever saw Frodo in such hurry, it was much faster then he can count his gold coins or pass 'the loyal customers secrets'. Then the red head boy told to the stranger about Simon, about Baldorill, about the wolves he met on a way from Fibula, about all what happened to him that morning. His mouth seemed to never close in contrary to Graostar's, the old freaky dwarf, who during all the story didn't even blink, not mentioning a smile or a word. He only grabbed his big golden belt buckle which in shape was similar to typical carpenter tool. It was same tool his master Talphion desired so much...
Neither the boy nor the wired dwarf had any idea how big change in their life just happened on that ordinary, sunny morning...

Nirdor had been fishing a lot in his life. Especially ice-fishing. He liked to fish and he was little good at it. He had cought some goodies from the south-western sea between Thais and Fibula. Two-three codfishes, some smaller sea-salmons and a strange fish he hand't seen before, it was fat and huge, the skin was hard, so he called it a "stonefish".
It would be a proper meal for him, all this and the mushrooms he had found on his way from walking through the spider wood, south of Thais.

He was in a jolly mood, and thought he could pay the Red Rose guild-house a visit, since he was so near. And maybe there where some drinks and sweeties there also.

He passed one of the citizens and greeted.

"G'day, big guy. I see you got youself a dinner today" he said.

"Yes, I have man. Come with me and see who falls to the ground first after eating, haha" Nirdor applied.

But the man had errands to do, so Nirdor walked straight to the the entrance to the big and strong building, the Red Rose Guild. The banners of Red Rose was waving in the air. And the sun shining on the walls. A beautyful day for a delicous dinner he thought.