Post by eowyna on Jan 8, 2010 11:44:53 GMT -5
((OOC: My story muse seems to have gone on vacation recently, so I thought I'd post something I wrote a while back. So cast your mind back about six months to Summer Festival....))
Part I
Summer Festival! How exciting! Negotations between the elves and dwarves of Ered Luin had achieved at least a temporary alliance, so there was a little bit of free time for fun. Eowyna had heard that festivities had already begun here in Thorin's Hall and that some really nice items were to be had. She made her way down from Dwalin's throne toward the lower reaches of the Dwarven city, finally locating the dwarf, Lafi, who wore the official Festival Badge. Looking carefully over his offerings, one item in particular caught her eye--a lovely blue gown with gold lace trim and an elegant golden girdle set with polished garnets.
"That!" exclaimed Eowyna in delight. "I'll take that!" She plunked a heavy purse of coins down upon Lafi's table.
Rubbing his fingers together, Lafi reached for the money, then reluctantly drew his hands back. "I be right sorry, ma'am. The Festival Association dinna accept coin. Ye must pay for yer purchases with Official Festival Tokens."
Eowyna blinked. "You do not accept the coin of the realm??? Surely we can reach some agreement..." She added a few silver coins to the purse she'd placed before Lafi.
Lafi sighed loudly, and with the greatest reluctance pushed the purse back toward Eowyna. "I be really sorry--you dinna know HOW sorry! It's the Festival Association Governance and Rules Committee--they be very strict." He lowered his voice and leaned toward her to speak. "It's them hobbit folk! Right sticklers they be for rules and regulations. Ever since the Shirelings formed the Governance Committee, there've been rules and paperwork and meetin's....Ye'd think they right ENJOYED that sorta thing! Makes my job hard, to be sure." He eyed the coin purse with longing. "But I dinna want to loose me official badge...ye understand. So...rules is rules. Ye MUST have tokens."
"Well, alright, then....where do I purchase these Official Festival Tokens...?" Eowyna was a little put-out over this complication. She was of the opinion that very little should come between herself and fashion.
"ummm...There's no exact place to purchase them...ye must EARN them! Yes, by takin' part in the Official Festival events...such as me own fishin' contest here! If ye pull in the right sort of fish, I be authorized by the Festival Association Governance and Rules Committee to exchange those fish for Official Tokens. Fishin' be a grand sport! Here...let me show ye. Just stick this wiggly, squishy, wet little worm on this here sharp hook thing at the end of the line--never ye mind the goo that sorta squirts out. Then just drop yer line in the stream here an' sit yerself down to wait--fer about and hour or six or seven--a few ales help to pass the time, missy! The when the ole fish nabs yer hook, ye pull it out nice an' slow like..Then ye reach inside the fish mouth and pull yer hook right outta it's innerds... Stick tha' fish in this here basket thing tied onto yer skirt. They'll smell some before tha' day's out, but...." Something about the look on Eowyna's face stopped him in his description of the glories of fishing.
"Well, then, mayhap yer not the fishin' type. Let's see then..ye can also get tokens by placing a small wager on the Dwarf drinkin' race! We be right good at it, if I do say so! Jist take yerself on outside and find Arnor. He's in charge of the Dwarven Division of the Official Festival Races of Glorious Guzzling and Gorging. Why, I bet ye win enough tokens to buy yer lovely gown in no time flat, lass! Good luck to ye!"
Gambling on a Dwarf drinking contest? Well, certainly better, in Eowyna's opinion, than fishing. She made her way outside to the staircase to Thorin's Gate, and sure enough, all manner of people were gathered around Arnor the Official Race Master. They were playing music, dancing, and seemed to be generally having an excellent time at the festival. She pushed her way through the crowd trying to reach Arnor to place her bet. Someone slapped her with a cold fish and a lock of hair came loose and flopped down in front of her face. She pushed the hair out of her eyes, and gave the fellow with the fish a hard stare. Obviously he'd seen Lafi. A cannonade of fireworks went off just behind her, scorching the hem of her dress. Snatching her skirts from danger, she scolded the hobbit with the match light in his had, "You should be more careful! Those things are pretty, but can be quite dangerous, used in this crowd! Do take care!" The young hobbit, having obviously filched a quantity of ale from the contest barrels, just put his thumbs in his ears and wiggled his fingers at her--how rude!
Reaching between two smelly humans, she shoved her betting token toward Arnor. "Which dwarf ye bettin' on, Lass?" he yelled.
She examined the four dwarves lined up at the start. Hmmm...none looked too likely. Evidently, Otto thought he'd already begun the race and was three sheets to the wind. Kolmar looked...well...confused--probably too many monster meals. People were cheering on Signar, definitely the crowd favorite. Lar...the blond, a handsome sort of fellow for a dwarf and quite sturdy looking...yes, Lar. "Lar!" Eowyna screamed at the race official. "Place my bet on Lar!"
"Ready!" shouted Arnor. "Set!" Someone released a stink bomb and the the crowd scattered. "Fire-breath" yelled someone just behind the contestant Signar, and he bolted from the starting block toward the first ale barrel, trousers scorched and smoking. "Oh, foul-start!" cried Eowyna, dismayed. "GO !!!" screamed Arnor. The herd surged forward in utter pandemonium, each yelling encouragements at their chosen contestant. Signar was halfway through his first ale, and poured the remainder down his back to quench his smoldering pants. "Hey, no fair." said Eowyna, but no one paid any attention, as Otto was closing fast. Just about that time, a large hairy Hobbit foot appeared from no where, and Otto stumbled, loosing all ground on the field. "People are cheating!" grumbled Eowyna, and got another slap with the cold fish for her trouble.
Signar was now leaving the fourth station, Lar and Kolmar approaching, Otto now far behind and out of contention. Eowyna was pleased; Lar seemed to be doing fairly well, gradually making up ground on the leader, even crying "There is life in me yet!" as he downed his fourth ale in record time.
Kolmar, too, was moving along nicely, when a female dwarf (Eowyna stared--she'd never seen one before) ran along side and handed him a snack, "Down this, lad, and you're fair to winnin' already!" Kolmar grinned and gobbled greedily. Then he stopped dead, turned faintly green, and delivered his snack onto the snow. He sat down, holding his belly. "Nooooo....vile vittles..." he groaned. The female dwarf guffawed and screamed, "Go, Signar, lad, go!!!", racing on after her chosen champion, beard-ribbons flying.
Eowyna carefully skirted Kolmar and his mess, and followed on after Lar. Approaching the last ale station, Lar was moving along strongly. Signar was pausing, complaining about his beard being frozen, and Eowyna was just sure Lar had a chance going into the home stretch. He finished his last ale, wiped the foam from his mustache with the back of his arm and said, "Ho, ho, I don't know if I can go on....", and promptly fell on his face in the snow. Eowyna pushed him, she kicked him, but the only response was a grunt and an earth-trembling snore. Signar, apparently satisfied that his beard was in no further danger, finished the race first, to the delight of the crowd. "TWELVE TOKENS TO THE SUPPORTERS OF THE WINNER, SIGNAR!! CONGRATULATIONS TO YE ALL AND COLLECT YER WINNIN'S IN THE TAVERN."
Eowyna frowned; Eowyna complained; Eowyna left. Eowyna went home to Maddux
Part I
Summer Festival! How exciting! Negotations between the elves and dwarves of Ered Luin had achieved at least a temporary alliance, so there was a little bit of free time for fun. Eowyna had heard that festivities had already begun here in Thorin's Hall and that some really nice items were to be had. She made her way down from Dwalin's throne toward the lower reaches of the Dwarven city, finally locating the dwarf, Lafi, who wore the official Festival Badge. Looking carefully over his offerings, one item in particular caught her eye--a lovely blue gown with gold lace trim and an elegant golden girdle set with polished garnets.
"That!" exclaimed Eowyna in delight. "I'll take that!" She plunked a heavy purse of coins down upon Lafi's table.
Rubbing his fingers together, Lafi reached for the money, then reluctantly drew his hands back. "I be right sorry, ma'am. The Festival Association dinna accept coin. Ye must pay for yer purchases with Official Festival Tokens."
Eowyna blinked. "You do not accept the coin of the realm??? Surely we can reach some agreement..." She added a few silver coins to the purse she'd placed before Lafi.
Lafi sighed loudly, and with the greatest reluctance pushed the purse back toward Eowyna. "I be really sorry--you dinna know HOW sorry! It's the Festival Association Governance and Rules Committee--they be very strict." He lowered his voice and leaned toward her to speak. "It's them hobbit folk! Right sticklers they be for rules and regulations. Ever since the Shirelings formed the Governance Committee, there've been rules and paperwork and meetin's....Ye'd think they right ENJOYED that sorta thing! Makes my job hard, to be sure." He eyed the coin purse with longing. "But I dinna want to loose me official badge...ye understand. So...rules is rules. Ye MUST have tokens."
"Well, alright, then....where do I purchase these Official Festival Tokens...?" Eowyna was a little put-out over this complication. She was of the opinion that very little should come between herself and fashion.
"ummm...There's no exact place to purchase them...ye must EARN them! Yes, by takin' part in the Official Festival events...such as me own fishin' contest here! If ye pull in the right sort of fish, I be authorized by the Festival Association Governance and Rules Committee to exchange those fish for Official Tokens. Fishin' be a grand sport! Here...let me show ye. Just stick this wiggly, squishy, wet little worm on this here sharp hook thing at the end of the line--never ye mind the goo that sorta squirts out. Then just drop yer line in the stream here an' sit yerself down to wait--fer about and hour or six or seven--a few ales help to pass the time, missy! The when the ole fish nabs yer hook, ye pull it out nice an' slow like..Then ye reach inside the fish mouth and pull yer hook right outta it's innerds... Stick tha' fish in this here basket thing tied onto yer skirt. They'll smell some before tha' day's out, but...." Something about the look on Eowyna's face stopped him in his description of the glories of fishing.
"Well, then, mayhap yer not the fishin' type. Let's see then..ye can also get tokens by placing a small wager on the Dwarf drinkin' race! We be right good at it, if I do say so! Jist take yerself on outside and find Arnor. He's in charge of the Dwarven Division of the Official Festival Races of Glorious Guzzling and Gorging. Why, I bet ye win enough tokens to buy yer lovely gown in no time flat, lass! Good luck to ye!"
Gambling on a Dwarf drinking contest? Well, certainly better, in Eowyna's opinion, than fishing. She made her way outside to the staircase to Thorin's Gate, and sure enough, all manner of people were gathered around Arnor the Official Race Master. They were playing music, dancing, and seemed to be generally having an excellent time at the festival. She pushed her way through the crowd trying to reach Arnor to place her bet. Someone slapped her with a cold fish and a lock of hair came loose and flopped down in front of her face. She pushed the hair out of her eyes, and gave the fellow with the fish a hard stare. Obviously he'd seen Lafi. A cannonade of fireworks went off just behind her, scorching the hem of her dress. Snatching her skirts from danger, she scolded the hobbit with the match light in his had, "You should be more careful! Those things are pretty, but can be quite dangerous, used in this crowd! Do take care!" The young hobbit, having obviously filched a quantity of ale from the contest barrels, just put his thumbs in his ears and wiggled his fingers at her--how rude!
Reaching between two smelly humans, she shoved her betting token toward Arnor. "Which dwarf ye bettin' on, Lass?" he yelled.
She examined the four dwarves lined up at the start. Hmmm...none looked too likely. Evidently, Otto thought he'd already begun the race and was three sheets to the wind. Kolmar looked...well...confused--probably too many monster meals. People were cheering on Signar, definitely the crowd favorite. Lar...the blond, a handsome sort of fellow for a dwarf and quite sturdy looking...yes, Lar. "Lar!" Eowyna screamed at the race official. "Place my bet on Lar!"
"Ready!" shouted Arnor. "Set!" Someone released a stink bomb and the the crowd scattered. "Fire-breath" yelled someone just behind the contestant Signar, and he bolted from the starting block toward the first ale barrel, trousers scorched and smoking. "Oh, foul-start!" cried Eowyna, dismayed. "GO !!!" screamed Arnor. The herd surged forward in utter pandemonium, each yelling encouragements at their chosen contestant. Signar was halfway through his first ale, and poured the remainder down his back to quench his smoldering pants. "Hey, no fair." said Eowyna, but no one paid any attention, as Otto was closing fast. Just about that time, a large hairy Hobbit foot appeared from no where, and Otto stumbled, loosing all ground on the field. "People are cheating!" grumbled Eowyna, and got another slap with the cold fish for her trouble.
Signar was now leaving the fourth station, Lar and Kolmar approaching, Otto now far behind and out of contention. Eowyna was pleased; Lar seemed to be doing fairly well, gradually making up ground on the leader, even crying "There is life in me yet!" as he downed his fourth ale in record time.
Kolmar, too, was moving along nicely, when a female dwarf (Eowyna stared--she'd never seen one before) ran along side and handed him a snack, "Down this, lad, and you're fair to winnin' already!" Kolmar grinned and gobbled greedily. Then he stopped dead, turned faintly green, and delivered his snack onto the snow. He sat down, holding his belly. "Nooooo....vile vittles..." he groaned. The female dwarf guffawed and screamed, "Go, Signar, lad, go!!!", racing on after her chosen champion, beard-ribbons flying.
Eowyna carefully skirted Kolmar and his mess, and followed on after Lar. Approaching the last ale station, Lar was moving along strongly. Signar was pausing, complaining about his beard being frozen, and Eowyna was just sure Lar had a chance going into the home stretch. He finished his last ale, wiped the foam from his mustache with the back of his arm and said, "Ho, ho, I don't know if I can go on....", and promptly fell on his face in the snow. Eowyna pushed him, she kicked him, but the only response was a grunt and an earth-trembling snore. Signar, apparently satisfied that his beard was in no further danger, finished the race first, to the delight of the crowd. "TWELVE TOKENS TO THE SUPPORTERS OF THE WINNER, SIGNAR!! CONGRATULATIONS TO YE ALL AND COLLECT YER WINNIN'S IN THE TAVERN."
Eowyna frowned; Eowyna complained; Eowyna left. Eowyna went home to Maddux