Mashed Potatoes and Steak 2

Mashed Potatoes and Steak

Only at the Green Dragon

#2: Regarding Issue Fifty One

Mashed Potatoes:

Fifty-One; The Bree Issue:

First off a big thank you goes out to everyone that helped with the issue; Gristwen, Greyrider, Gwen, Czral (may your atoms rest in radioactive peace), Hrastan, Primrose and Marroc.

Special thanks goes to the first responders to the international section: Gwaith-i-Mírdain, Galadhrim, Rana Othar, Tarik Haleth, and the surprise entry from Gor Bûrzgoth (thank you Crytzch, you made my day!)

Now then, what you’re here for:

The Ballad of Bill Ferny

The references about Meril I wrote in myself, Hrastan went camping on the week that the Tater was supposed to come out and the version of the song he had mailed me wasn’t finished. Thus Meril took liberties. Muhahaha.

This Month in History

Apparently Theoden had a heart attack on Pelennor before the Witch King could kill him when he read about his funeral in the Tater. Fortunately, Groundhog day mechanism kicked in, and events are back on schedule for him to expire like normal again until next July should we run the article again then.  Forth Eorlingas!

A Hobbit Birthday Party in Bree

This is actually based on my real aunt’s 65th birthday party at a garden and greenhouse set up in Omaha.  The details are all there, from the food to the birthday presents. It was so very hobbitish, and so very much needed to be a part of the Tater.

I find that roleplaying a hobbit is pretty much just roleplaying as a modern day human without the technology. I really liked how this piece turned out, and it just really works with how Meril writes. Rambling, gets off subject easy, but always returning to her point. I actually got told by a friend who preread this piece that Meril’s voice sounded to him like a female Sam Gamgee as played by Sean Astin, and actually that’s nearly appropriate since she is second cousins with him (her maternal grandfather is brothers with the Gaffer). Expect Meril’s pieces to be similar to this in the future.

A note on the Recent Fireworks in the Shire

As you might have guessed, if you read the gossiper… Meril has left Ranhoth. The reasons for this that matter are as they are in her posted life story. This should not affect Common Tater publication. Meril will be maintaining a post box in Bree and Wendel has promised to make sure her mail gets to her weekly.

Steak:

FOLLOW UP:
Hobbit tree’d by orcs, rescue efforts coordinated by mysterious dwarf.

In last month’s Steak we published about Haydoc Jumbuck’s incident with some orcs. Master Jumbuck saw our note and responded with the real story:

I read in the old tome in Bree that some orcs were causing a problem in the Druwaith Iaur that only a young adventurer could assist with.   I have always been naturally curious with a woefully underdeveloped sense of self-preservation so I mounted my trusty stallion, Fugitive, and galloped off to the rescue.  Southwest of Adornas I found the source of the problem…some orcs had infested a Dunlending camp of some sort.  I battled my way past the lone sentry who attacked me on sight despite my winning smile.  Further into the camp, I came upon three orcs fighting a gigantic bear.  I always had a tender spot in my heart for poor helpless animals so I joined the battle on the behemoth’s side, and together we vanquished the three miserable vermin.  My excitement growing, I past the great beast who stepped aside, grateful for my interference on his part.   I found myself in a small clearing at the base of a tree, and from there things went awry.  Two hulking orcs came marching down the trail, bloodlust in their eyes, trapping me.  To my surprise, a pair of ropy arms reached down from the tree, grabbed me by my sensitive ears, and hauled me up to safety (these were not climbing orcs).  It turned out to be a rather disheveled and mildly malodorous Dunlending hermit who begged me to save him from the orcs.  Of course I felt obliged to try, and scrambled back down the tree, where my head was very nearly handed to me after a brief and pitiful scuffle.  So, I climbed the tree again and tried to entreat the hermit to lend me a hand, to no avail.  At that point my doom looked sealed, so I broadcast my sad plight across Arda with very little hope.  And yet, my plea was heard, and within moments a daring dwarf named [name redacted in hopes that we can get an interview]. charged to my rescue, only to find that he couldn’t fit through the opening that led to the besieged tree.   So he attempted to summon more help, but try as he might he could find noone who was able to enter my trap with me.   He kindly kept me company by shouting to me for about an hour as I steeled myself for death.  Then, I am ashamed to admit, in my desperation I became angry with the hermit for not assisting me in his own rescue, so I slapped him. Repeatedly.  With my cutlass.   Weak with blood loss, he fell from the tree and broke his neck, so it seemed.  When what to my wonder and guilty delight should occur but the orcs crowed with triumph and shouted adulations at me, tossed me a skin full of their very potent beer, and ran away leaving me in peace to make my escape!

That’s it for this week’s Mashed Potatoes and Steak. Thanks for reading!

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~ by Meril Softfoot on August 20, 2012.

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