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Topics - Henglaf

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Off-topic / The Hobbit films
« on: May 31, 2011, 09:01:16 AM »
For interested parties:

But who is going to be cast as Bard the Bowman, I say?

"Then Bard drew his bow-string to his ear. The dragon was circling back, flying low, and as he came the moon rose above the eastern shore and silvered his great wings. ‘Arrow!’ said the bowman. ‘Black Arrow! I have saved you to the last. You have never failed me and always I have recovered you. I had you from my father and he from of old. If ever you came from the forges of the true king under the Mountain, go now and speed well!'"

They had better be grim is all I can say.

H of Dale

General Lore / The Tolkien Professor
« on: February 27, 2011, 08:34:15 AM »
There's some good listening (and thinking) for those inclined found at, where Corey Olsen from Washington College lectures on various Middle-earth topics.

Also available as podcasts on iTunes.

-H & Company

Off-topic / Load Time Reduction Tip
« on: January 13, 2011, 12:13:32 PM »
For those who have not seen or tried this yet, here's a little trick to maybe get some better performance out of your system (depending on its specs) while playing LOTRO:

If you have a very current system, however, the performance gains may be negligible.



It so occasioned that the last light bells were tolling in Dale, silver bells, bronze bells, and at times the most delicate of bells - like chimes. Dale, now rebuilt under the rules of Bard and his heirs (the present being King Brand,) was a domain of stone and towers as of old, with arching bridges over the Celduin, cunning waterways and flumes devised at the hands of the dwarves from the Mountain, good friends with the Bardings in those days. The ruins has been restored, the old rebuilt better.

The rush and splutter of water was heard from the Waterside Market, the Running River in it's channel, flecked rose red in the last lights of day. Folks, as they are wont to do, began to move indoors, though that did not always mean they went to their homes. In those latter days of Dale Renewed there was quite an increasing number of inns as trade and travel again took hold in the Rhovannion; the bells of Dale rang again and Dain's folk were again hammering in Erebor the Lonely! And so it was there usually quite a commotion at night, albeit not in the same places as in the light hours.

At the Waterside Market was the Running River Red (called so for a Red-Hooded Duck) and it was a comely building, plastered off-white with a gabled roof over its two stories and trimmed handsomely in ruddy red. Off the covered porch was strung the sign donning its name, and it might have been unremarkable if it weren't for the red-hooded duck swimming in a tankard of beer. It was quite a happy duck; you could see so in its face. A lot of Bardings also made their preference the Red.

The significance of the Running River Red to us, however, is that on this night, the fourth night of the month we would call April in the year TE 3018, there was a certain burglaring type within the establishment, though he would have sneered at you for using such a base word as 'burgle' in reference to his profession. These kinds of folk go by many different names from without, names given to them but not asked for, as sometimes they are rather uncouth or just plain untrue, such as 'burglar,' 'thief,''cut-purse,''pick-pockets' - you get the idea. Though some had perhaps at one time, this particular thief had never even 'cut purses' or 'picked pockets' and he considered such behavior beneath him, as quite roguish and unprofessional for a true Expert.

That evening, as the lamp lights were being lit and the fires stoked, Basso the fence assumed his usual place alongside the hearth and as the fire flicked brighter the shadows beside deepened. Only by the paleness of his skin and the glint of his eyes would you have known he was there at all. At length, a young woman entered the Red as well, slender of face and golden-haired, braided and bound at the nape of her neck. A scarlet cloak was clasped at her throat with a pearl and silver broach. She looked at Basso squarely, emotionless, and, without a word or gesture, crossed the inn's common room, and took flight up wide stair at the rear of the chamber.

Basso's client.

A half hour later, as the patrons were becoming quite boisterous and mucking up the room with song and dance, another expected face showed itself, albeit this one was much less pleasant to look upon thought Basso with a wry grin. Unfortunately, this was also the one he needed most to speak with.

"Henglaf," Basso called, waving him over.

Basso's 'Procurer of Goods.'

Henglaf had the look of most true Bardings, grim-faced and tall, but there was a strain of something else in him as well, a thing nobler yet more grave, a thing that Basso could never quite place. He could see it most clearly in the Man's eyes, gray like the gray of a wet stone pulled from a stream. Heredity was not really a concern of his fortunately; Henglaf was a good thief and was such for many reasons, not the least being his lean build, generous allowance of patience, and perhaps just simply the gift of cunning. Anyone could steal, but not everyone could blend into the shadows and steal into and back out of a fat lord's mansion without anyone being the wiser.

"Sit down, Hen, sit down. You look terrible," Basso asserted, not really one for pleasantries or pleasantness. "What have you been into?"

"Don't be a cuss," replied Henglaf, rolling his fingers on the table top. "I'd wager your blood would have turned cold if you had been on my last job. I'm supposed to look terrible," he added. "What do you have for me?"

A din of laughter caught their attention nearby then, but once it had settled down again Basso edged forward with his elbows on the table. Just over a whisper, he said, "I have a client, upstairs-"

"A client here?" interrupted Henglaf, a brow raised. This was a change he was not used to. Basso gave him the jobs and the details and paid him for the charge; it was that simple. There was no interfacing with clientele, and that was for everyone's own good.

Basso waved him to settle down. "Yes, yes, she's here, upstairs. Let me finish and be a good little fence's pawn. Now then, as I was saying: she would like to speak with you herself concerning an interest in a certain bauble she fancies. All I know, all I was told, is that she will only tell you the details herself and the pay is handsome."

"And what might that be?" wondered Henglaf, noticing only after the fact whoever this person was was not confident in telling a fence about a thieving job, somewhat of an irony perhaps. He might have asked more about this more-than-minor detail if the words 'pay' and 'handsome' had not been there to distract him.

Basso was now wearing a smug grin in the eerie light, scarcely containable despite that he was quite the stolid fellow and hardly ever got excited about anything. "Remember the Donal job? Well, this would pay out at least four times that, plus more for... unforeseen snags."

Now, wealth and shining things did not kindle a fire in his soul the same way it did with Basso, but Henglaf knew that he could easily retire on such a sum as was being discussed, even after Basso's cut (and he suspected the miser would ask for a larger percentage than normal in spite of all this.) What concerned our good Barding at the moment, however, was what kind of job elicited such a price tag? And what snags? It already sounded top-heavy with danger, risk, certain capture or death, all of it.

"What room?"

"Seven. Knock thrice."

((Thank you all for the warm welcome last night. Talk to you soon. -H))

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