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Minas Tirith Forums » The Green Dragon » Ye Olde Swimming Hole (Page 12)
Author Topic: Ye Olde Swimming Hole
Roll of Honor Círdan
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Citizen # 812
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"Dammit!", Cirdan cried; "I can't build my hell-hole with all these inns and jolly innkeepers! Mandin! Bring forth Destruction and Havoc, the Twin Eggplants of the Apocolypse! Or something." Keeping busy in the meantime, Cirdan invited Butterbur to a quick game of Gin Rummy.
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Butterbur
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Butterbur, not at all familiar with the rules governing the most prestegious game of Gin Rummy, decided not to play, and sugested a game of old fashion checkers instead.
Cirdan, as remarkably clever as always, proceed to play new fashion checkers, getting Butterbur into quite a huff.
"The Dark Lord smite you!" cried Butterbur at the supposed cheater, and he ran behind the bar, fetched his largest mug, filled it with ale, and, shortly after, Cirdan stumbled out of the inn about as soaked as you can be after having a huge mug of beer poured onto you.

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ArchAngel
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ArchAngel seeing his chance, loosed a silver chain and flew into the air, hovering right in front of the window, and smiled at Alia slyly.
"Where to now, madam?" ArchAngel growled, uttering the first words a ballon wraith ever said, besides to Mandin.

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Roll of Honor Círdan
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Cirdan, used to having various drinks poured on him (usually by women, however), decided to react calmly, suggesting the always civil game of Clue. High-stakes Clue, of course...
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Butterbur
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"Why don't you just get a clue?" said Butterbur sourly. He was not feeling particularly witty today. He stocked off.
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Lord Faramir
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At that moment a great como-tion arose from the forest near the pool. Bursting in apon the group of squabbling gods Lord Faramir cried "Ware of the forest" as thousands orcs lead by no one less than Melkor came streaming into the copse. One smoldering glance for Melly consumed the Inn Of The Fat Idiot. The whole party screamed in horror. But not so the fearless Lord Faramir and his trusty scout Damrod. After fulling Melkors hide full of bolts from their automatic crossbows they continued to chase him and his lackeys into the forest.
There was a thick silence

------------------
Price of Ithilien
Lord of Emyn Arnen
Steward to King Elessar of Gondor and Arnor


Therefore I will cut you in pieces with my prophets
I killed you with the word of my mouth
My judgements flashed like lightining upon you
-Hosea


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Roll of Honor Mandin
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Mandin, the balloon lord, came and sawed off Lord Faramir's signature. "Not polite in RP's you know!" he said gruffly. Then he picked up the fat inkeeper and hurled him into the by now water helled water hole.
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Little Alia
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Alia had leapt from the inn before it burned down, and now lay sprawled on the ground. Sitting up on her elbow, she surveyed the scene.

"Oh jeez," she commented, rolling her eyes at all the chaotic people.


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ArchAngel
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None of the chaotic rioters came near ArchAngel, as none wanted anything to do with the Balloon Wraith. However, ArchAngel now had his chance. He quickly dove forwards and scooped up Alia, and carried her high into the sky, only having time to loop a single chain about her waist.
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Little Alia
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"ugh, not again!" Alia groaned, dangling from the chain about her waist and looking down at the swimming hole.

Becoming nauseated, she commented, "I think I'm gonna be sick."


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Butterbur
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"Pardon me," said Mandin. "But being sick is against the rules. Rule AQ-132493/NP#999/43 to be precise. Here, look it up." And with that the Dark Lord drew from the hat that was tucked beneath his cloak, the most enormous book imagineable.
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Roll of Honor Círdan
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Observing the pitiable state of grammatical righteousness he had brought on with his creation of Hell, Cirdan invited everyone to a game of Scrabble. High-stakes Scrabble, of course.

This message has been edited by Cirdan on 09-16-2001 at


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Little Alia
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"Thanks, I'll keep that in mind," Alia managed to respond to Mandin, just before hurling all over his book.

"Oh my, I'm dreadfully sorry," She commented.


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Lord Faramir
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Just then Faramir returned with Anborn, Mablung and Damrod. All the female goddess tried to restrain them selves Mandin helped them as he slowly turned green wiv envy. The light of the Valar was apon Faramir's face for he had spoken with them and the great Erú
after he and his trusty men had banished Morgoth and his minions from galaxies to the pit of hell. Damrod casually pointed out to Mandin the large hole in his mangy hat and told him that in the future not to toy with such beings of the likes of Morgoth. Mandin turn from green to red like the lights of intersection as he struggle to stop the beautiful ones from mobbing Faramir and his cohorts.

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ArchAngel
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ArchAngel whispered to Alia, "Instead of me carrying you away and begining awful torture, what say you and I go down there and teach that self-centered ego monger a lesson or two?"
As ArchAngel said this, he handed Alia an enchanted dagger and a Doomsday cloak.

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Lord Faramir
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In strode Targon and Beregond and apon approaching Lord Faramir they bowed. After a hushed discussion Faramir rallied his host and marched. As they left Mablung gifted Mandin with a blue pointed hat that stirred vague memories in those looking on. "Watch yon AAman he is under the curse of Shelob" whispered Mablung.
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Little Alia
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In response to ArchAngel's suggestion, Alia grinned and said, "I'm game!"

With this, she whipped the cloak about her shoulders and tossed the dagger in the air a few times, getting a feel for it. Looking down, she paused.

"Um, you think we should land sometime soon?" She asked, tugging at his Doomsday cloak and pointing downwards.


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Willow
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Oh dear, Alia, your writing habits never change...
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Roll of Honor Mandin
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"unfortunately they do not," said Mandin sadly, holding his notepad and pencil in the same hand and scraching his head with his other hand: the knew hat itched terribly. "Not that it really matters," he added with a grin." And, no longer dealing with fashions of writing, he tossed aside his notebook and pencil, threw as far as he could his new hat, and stitched up his old. When he had finished he sat, not knowing quite what to do next, but knowing that it would be amazing.
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ArchAngel
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ArchAngel and Alia swooped down from the skies (appreciating that they were already amazing) and as they passed over Mandin, ArchAngel dropped down a rapier and a parrying dagger. "Make yourself useful," the former balloon wraith said as he deposited Alia cleanly before the group of riotous fools. He then threw a collection of cooking pots and waste baskets at the crowd (these came from within his cloak) and told Alia, "I will return shortly, have fun,"
ArchAngel dove into the air and soared to an astounding height. Then he plummeted, nosediving straight towards Lord Faramir, shouting his challenge, "Nay fiend, I am not under the spell of Shelob, but under the spell of Yavanna, in case you hvae not been reading recent posts. Have at thee!!" With this ArchAngel reversed his dive, slamming Lord Faramir hard in the chest with both feet. Lord Faramir crashed into the ground as ArchAngel landed lightly, and stood with his fine scimitar in one hand pointed straight at Faramir's throat and a silver chain looping intraicate patterns in the air held be his other hand but seemingly alive.
"What'll it be, knave?" growled the warrior.

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Lord Faramir
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Suddenly the whole host of Faramir burst forth into laughing for in his blind rage AAman had mistakenly pinned the squire of Lord Faramir down much to AAman's humiliation. 'I will not have this!' cried the squire and up he leaped causing AA to tumble into his cloak. And doom near swallowed him but in his great straining he manage to escape. 'Confound that treacherous cloak!' screamed AAman as he turn as red as his master. Up trotted Butterbur with a horn of wine 'here you go good sir' he said to AAman and as he drunk the good innkeeper started to lecture AAman on the evils of attacking a being of greater power than he ever if he be only a squire.
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ArchAngel
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ArchAngel slapped Butterbur away and growled at the force of Faramir, "You think that you may be more powerful than I, but you forget that Balloon Wraiths rarely fight alone." With this, hundreds of balloon wraiths burst into view, riding their winged steeds and led by Mandin. As they approached, two riderless winged steeds descended, and ArchAngel boarded one, which Alia climbed upon the other. They were then off, into the air, and dropping the favorite weapon of the ballon wraith upon the heads of Faramir -- Oliphants.
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Little Alia
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"Yippee!!" Alia cried, hurling an Oliphant down into the melee. She was utterly enjoying herself, and urged her steed onwards.

Riding higher into the sky, she sliced the clouds, then dove straight down, stopping only inches from her doom. she giggled, and said, "Sorry!!" and continued her chucking of Oliphants.


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Lord Faramir
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The blue wide rim pointed hat floated slowly down and was caught by Faramir's msyterious squire.

'To the hill!' cried Faramir as he spurred his horse forward. All Faramir's men-at-arms retreated up the hill with skillful ease that only comes from simulation on unknown terriotry and hard battles. Just as the last man came into place the rain of oliphants crashed into the smoldering ruins of the 'Good Hobbit Inn'.

The anomalous squire waved a white flag and the gods, goddess' and wraiths stop their rhapsodicness and approached like a swarm of locust. the squire said to Faramir 'It's a shot in the dark but at least you must try for that saucy being wollows in his power'. 'Yes' replied Lord Faramir and he turn and hailed them.

'I am but a mortal but you are the gods feared by the all the men of the north. In magic there is, save but a few, that rival you lest of all I. There for I propose a game be had for I weary of this brutal and violent display for as one said A man who lacks judgment derides his neighbour, but a man of understanding holds his tongue. In magic you beat me but what of disscussion?
This is what I set before you. Let us talk back and forth you and I AAman. The the one that wins will be the one first to make fair Tinelwen to smile apon either (you or I) when she comes.

The prize shall be like so

If you win I shall leave this thread and call you by the name ArchAngel if you wish.

but if I win YOU shall leave this tread if I wish and also you will refrain from dropping oliphant above me every were I go.

What do you say?

(I like your spirit)

This message has been edited by Lord Faramir on 09-21-2001 at


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ArchAngel
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My good sir, I am more than happy to engage you in a battle of words. I am most comfortable in that arena, and the oliphant hurling is bad on one's back. Before you accept your own challenge, you may want to ask Mandin what you are getting into, though I would rather such a bout - I haven't had a good one since the National Debate and Forensics tournament two months ago. Regardless, I look forward to your response.

ArchAngel

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Never give in, never give in, never, never, never, never - in nothing, great or small, large or petty - never give in except to convictions of honour and good sense.

- Winston S. Churchill


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Create a New Topic  Reply to this Topic Minas Tirith Forums » The Green Dragon » Ye Olde Swimming Hole (Page 12)
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